| Subject: Chapter 3 |
Author:
Juli
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Date Posted: Thursday, May 18, 03:00:05pm
In reply to:
Juli
's message, "Anti-Virus" on Wednesday, May 17, 05:25:56pm
Chapter 3
Nikita pulled into a front parking space and kicked down the kickstand on her motorcycle. She pulled the black and pink helmet off her head and shook out her hair. She tucked the key in her pocket and stepped off.
She glanced over at the hideous neon sign in front of Papa Pig’s, the bar where she and Carla hung out. She noticed that the place wasn’t too full that night. “Good,” she thought, “we’ll be able to get a table.”
Her helmet under her arm, Nikita pulled open the door to Papa Pig’s and walked inside. As her eyes adjusted to the darker interior, Nikita noticed Carla waving frantically for her. She strolled across the empty dance floor to the booth that Carla had claimed.
“Good seat,” she commented, sliding into the booth across from Carla. “Is Jake here?” she asked looking around for Carla’s boyfriend.
“Not yet,” Carla remarked off-handedly. “He’s coming by later, I think. How was work?”
“Fine, I guess. Wolfe has us working together for the next three weeks,” Nikita answered with a groan. “That means I have to go in.”
Carla made a sympathetic face. “Poor baby, you can’t hole up in your room all day.”
Nikita picked up on her roommate’s sarcasm and flipped her off good naturedly.
They were both laughing when a waitress approached the table.
“Hi Nikita,” the short, dark-haired girl remarked. “Want something?”
“Hi Gail,” Nikita replied. “Uhhhhmmmm.” She glanced into Carla’s glass. “What are you having?”
“Banana Daquiri,” Carla remarked taking a sip.
“Ugh, I can’t stand those foo-foo drinks you like,” Nikita said, pulling a face. She turned back to Gail. “Just gimme an Amaretto Sour.”
“Ok, be right back,” Gail said, heading for the bar.
“Is there anyone here yet?” Nikita asked turning back to Carla.
“Marco was here earlier, but he left before you came in,” Carla said. “It’s kinda dead right now, but I suppose the normal crew will be here later.”
Nikita nodded and glanced around the sparsely-peopled bar.
“Hey, I took a few of my pieces by the gallery today, they went nuts over them,” Carla remarked. “I think they are going to move up the date of the exhibition.”
“That’s great!” Nikita said.
Gail returned with Nikita’s drink and stood next to their table to visit a bit. They talked more about Carla’s showing and general gossip and chit chat. After a while, the bar had filled considerably and some people were even dancing.
“Hey, Nik. That guy over there by the bar keeps staring at you,” Carla whispered loudly.
“Really?” Nikita asked.
Carla nodded. Pretending to stretch, Nikita glanced back over her shoulder toward the bar.
There was a man there, staring directly at her. Nikita smiled politely and then slowly glanced around the bar as if she hadn’t been peeking.
“He IS looking at me!” she told Carla.
“He’s kinda cute,” Carla replied.
Nikita tilted her head and visualized the guy in her mind. He was fairly tall, which was good since she was so tall. He had sandy brown hair, and round wire glasses. He was dressed nicely, if a bit “preppy.”
“I guess,” Nikita allowed. “Not really my type though.”
“Nikita,” Gail was back with another Amaretto Sour for Nikita. “That guy over there bought this drink for you!”
Carla giggled. Nikita turned around intentionally and looked back at her admirer. She smiled and held up her drink as if to say thanks. The man nodded and gave her a smile.
“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him!” Carla commanded.
“Yeah, Nikita,” Gail chimed in. “He’s cute!”
“Okay, okay,” Nikita said, giving in to peer pressure.
She got up from the table, picked up her drink and threaded her way to the man standing at the bar.
“Thanks for the drink,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he replied. “My name is Gray Wellman.”
“Nikita,” she told him.
“Nikita? That’s an interesting name,” Gray said, making small talk.
Nikita nodded, wishing that the situation wasn’t so awkward.
“What do you do for a living, Gray?” Nikita asked.
“I’m an architect,” he replied.
“An architect? What are you doing at Papa Pig’s then?” she said with a laugh.
Gray blushed a little. “I was supposed to meet a blind date here,” he told her. “But I don’t think she’s coming. I was hoping it was you, but no luck.”
“Too bad,” Nikita said, wondering how to politely cut him loose.
“What is it that you do?” he asked her, taking a sip of his own drink.
“I’m a chemist,” she told him, glancing over to where Carla and Gail were watching with rapt interest.
“A chemist! How interesting. You don’t hear that every day!” Gray exclaimed.
Nikita nodded self-consciously.
“Well, thank you again for the drink, Gray. It was nice to meet you,” Nikita said, sliding away from the bar.
“It was nice to meet you too, Nikita,” he said, a bit dispiritedly.
Nikita walked back to her table to face the disappointed faces of her friends.
“What happened?!” Carla asked as Nikita slid into the booth.
“Nothing,” Nikita said. He just wasn’t my type.”
“Well then, Miss Jones, who exactly is your type?” Carla said with dripping sarcasm.
Nikita gave her a look that said “We are NOT having this discussion again.”
“Well, I’d better get moving, or I’m going to get fired,” Gail said. “You want another round?”
Carla drained her glass and asked for another drink. Nikita was still nursing the drink Gray had purchased. “Not for me,” she said. “I have to drive home.”
After Gail had walked away, Carla leaned in. “You know, you are going to have to let it go some time,” she told Nikita. “Just because you had two jerks in a row, doesn’t mean that all guys are jerks.”
“I know, Carla. Believe me, I know. But I’m in no hurry. I might as well be picky,” Nikita said with a sigh.
***
Walter watched for another few minutes from his place in the corner and then drained his beer and stood up. Once outside, he hit a speed dial number on his phone and listened to it ring.
“Negative. She didn’t bite,” he said to the person on the other end as he walked toward his car. “I’m telling you Michael, I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”
He listened for a moment and then spoke. “No, its not just that. I think this girl is going to be hard to crack, yes… but it’s more than that. I’m just getting bad vibes.”
He listened to Michael’s reply and then laughed and hung up the phone.
“Too much drugs in the 60’s, my ass,” he muttered as he unlocked the black SUV and climbed in.
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