Chapter 6

            Bruce and Margo met in the parking lot of Jimbo’s Steakhouse. The place looked like a huge log cabin on the outside. The parking lot was full of cars, trucks, and SUVs.

            As Bruce bragged about the food at Jimbo’s, Margo was thinking that she would have to wash her car tomorrow because the parking lot was more dirt than gravel. She was thankful that she took Bruce’s advice and dressed down for the occasion. This place wouldn’t appreciate Blahniks, diamond earrings, and a designer dress. She wore blue jeans and tennis shoes. Her white blouse was open and tied in a knot at the bottom. Her light blue tank top hugged her double- D breasts.

            They walked through the door. She refrained from frowning at the loud country music that blasted from the ceiling speakers. Not only was there sawdust on the floor but nut shells as well.

            Well, I’ll be damned, she thought with wide eyes.

            Barmaids with tight, white T-shirts walked around with trays full of empty and full beer mugs.

            “Hey, everybody!” Bruce yelled.

            “What the hell?” she said with surprise.

            Half the room turned around and greeted him by name.

            “Hey, Joanie, how about a table?” Bruce yelled to a woman who was walking toward them.

            “Hey, Bruce, pick your own seat. You’re not new here,” she said back with a smirk.

            A few folks laughed.

            Bruce looked at Margo. “I got the respect of every agent at the bureau, but not here,” he joked. “Come on, let’s see if we can get a booth.” He placed his hand on her shoulder and walked her into the vast country-western space.

They sat down in a small oval-shaped booth. It was rather cozy. A waitress with a jiggling bosom approached them with water glasses on a tray. “Hey, Bruce,” she cooed sweetly. “Who’s your friend?” She set down the water glasses.

“This is Margo. Margo, this is Rhonda.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said.

“And you,” Margo said.

“Do you two know what you want to drink?”

“Gin on the rocks,” Bruce said.

“Michelob,” Margo answered.

“Okay.” Rhonda pulled two menus from under her arm and placed them on the table. “I’ll be back in a sec.”

“The fried gator meat here is really good,” Bruce commented.

Margo smirked and shook her head. She figured she may as well enjoy this. She hadn’t had alligator since she first moved to Florida. She opened her menu. “What else do you recommend?”

“The steak, obviously,” he said with cheer. “The eight ounce is great. You’ll like that, but leave room for dessert. They have the best brownies here.”

The waitress came back with their drinks and took their food order.

Bruce sipped his gin. “Are you originally from Florida?”

“No.”

He cleared his throat. “Just no. Are you going to tell me where you’re from then?”

She shrugged. What could be the harm? She wasn’t going to see him again after tonight with the exception of occasionally passing when he visited Alec and Lana. “I was born in Seattle, but we moved to San Francisco when I was three. When I was seven, my mom and I moved to LA. What about you? I mean, I know some stories about when you were in college thanks to that one night you and Alec were at my house with Bobbi.”

“What else do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with . . . are you from Florida originally?”

“No, I was born and raised in Houston, Texas. I’m the fourth child out of five. And . . .” He trailed off as he glanced at the ceiling. “And I love good food, parties, and my job.”

“Nice bio,” she said.

“Uh huh, you think it’s rehearsed.”

“No, not at all. What you see is what you get with you . . . tonight anyway,” she teased.

“I thought you forgave me for the country club thing.”

“I did. I’m sorry. I was just . . .”

“Giving me a hard time,” he said with a crooked grin. “I get it. You still have your guard up.”

She tilted her head as she looked upon his handsome features. “Do you blame me?” she asked.

He smirked. “Not at all,” he replied and winked at her.

They continued chatting. Through it all, Bruce wasn’t that bad of a guy. He was a womanizer, but it wasn’t entirely his fault. God just gave him too much charisma and good looks for his own good.

The waitress brought their food. Bruce had ordered a T-Bone, a baked potato, and green beans. Margo ordered a mixed platter with fried alligator meat, broiled shrimp, and kale. The food was tasty, but she knew she would have to double up on her work out tomorrow from the fried food and beer she was drinking.

As they ate, Bruce talked more about his family.

“It’s nice that you had a family to grow up with. I was an only child. My father abandoned us in San Francisco when I was six. He left a note saying that he wasn’t coming back, and he didn’t. When we moved to LA, my mother had gotten a job on a movie set. She said that she would become a rich and successful actress so we wouldn’t have to struggle anymore.” She paused for a minute. “But she learned pretty quickly that the entertainment industry was harsh and . . . sick. And she learned the hard way. She got a couple of bit parts in big movies, but when she wouldn’t sleep with the head of the studio, everything stopped. She couldn’t even get hired for ‘the girl who dies in the opening credits’ roll. Then she had gotten depressed and turned to drugs . . . heroin. So much so we got put out of the apartment because Mom couldn’t pay the rent. Then she lost custody of me for about a year because there was some sort of Good Samaritan who reported that there was a woman with a child and she couldn’t take care of it,” she said with bitterness.

“But she did get you back, right?”

“Oh yes, she cleaned up enough and secured herself a job as a waitress to convince social services to give me back. She was clean until I turned fifteen, but then the diner she worked in closed. She fell back into a depression and got back on the needle. A year later, she was so sick I had to take her to the free clinic. That’s when we discovered she had contracted HIV.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, she hung on for a while after she was diagnosed. She died when I was twenty-three. We were both grateful that she lived long enough to see me graduate from college. She said that I was the first to go to college in the family. Luckily, I got a scholarship, but I still had to work part-time to pay my personal bills.”

“I’m sorry, Margo,” he said sincerely and seriously.

She shrugged. “It’s okay. I mean, I guess I’ve relived the story in my head so many times that it doesn’t . . . bother me like it used to. Those early years taught me a lot. It taught me strength, independence, and that in the end, I can only depend on myself — to not only survive, but thrive.”

Bruce was quiet for a moment as he stared at her. “Did you ever try to find your dad?”

She snickered with half scoff, half amusement. “I hired a PI three years ago to track him down. It took him six months, but he finally found him – in Alaska. He had become a bush pilot, gotten remarried, and had two other children. The PI said that he liked going to this old hole-in-the-wall restaurant every morning alone. One morning, I was there waiting on him. He was a little grayer around the temples, but other than that, he hadn’t changed much. I said hello to him and asked if he recognized me. He didn’t. Then I said I guess not since he hadn’t seen me since I was six.” She chuckled. “I’ve never seen a man go so pale. I told him that I wasn’t going to disrupt his new wonderful life. That mom was worse off without him, but him leaving me behind had been the best thing for me because it taught me how to live on my own. I turned and left the restaurant. I looked in my rearview mirror as I drove off. He was standing in front of the restaurant, watching me drive away. I never saw him again.”

“If you didn’t want him back in your life, then why did you . . . look for him?”

“To satisfy my curiosity. This food is good. I haven’t been in a place like this since I was twenty-five.” She threw that in there to change the subject. She didn’t want to drag the night down.

“Was that when you started making lots of money?” he asked with a smirk.

“I did all right in the regular nine-to-five sector at the time, but I didn’t start making the big bucks until I went independent. You know, the big leagues,” she said with a smile. It wasn’t entirely true, but it didn’t really matter. It’s not like she wanted to make a commitment to Bruce.

He chuckled. “I naturally gravitate to places like this. I guess it reminds me of home.” They chatted, continued to eat, and ordered more alcohol. Forty minutes later, Bruce had her laughing at his silly jokes.

“You want another drink?” he asked.

“Oh no. I’m afraid I’ve had a little too much already.” She wasn’t drunk, but she felt loose.

“I’ll settle the tab. Maybe some fresh air will clear our heads.”

Ten minutes later, they walked outside. They strolled along the deck of the restaurant, which stretched out to the parking lot. But instead of going to their vehicles, they continued to walk the deck out to the property.

“This place is on a lot of land,” she commented.

“Yeah, they host big parties out here. In August, they have a big barbeque. Folks bring their tents, folding chairs, and coolers. Of course, you have to pay Jimbo’s for the barbeque you eat.”

They got to a bench.

“You want to sit for a minute?” he asked.

“Sure,” she answered.

They settled on the seat. Bruce placed his arm around her shoulders. “Nice night,” he stated.

“Yeah, I’m surprise it isn’t humid.” For some reason, she didn’t mind his arm on her shoulder. He made her feel protected and safe.

“So, how’s your head?” he asked in a low tone.

“Good,” she whispered. Is it me, or is he getting closer?

“So, what do you want to do now?” His tone had a lace of mischief in it as his arms curled around her waist.

Margo looked up at him. “Not sure, but I think you have something in mind.”

“I do,” he replied as his face got closer to hers.

Their lips touched. Bruce was big as a bear, but his touch was as gentle as a pussycat. Her hand roamed up his muscular arm. It had been three months since she had any physical contact with a man. It felt good, and his skin was so warm.

As much as Margo hated it, she thought it best to pull back. She looked into his desire-filled eyes. Bruce was appealing, and she was physically attracted to him, no question. But he was trouble. “We should go,” she said more sultrily than she meant to.

His dark eyebrow arched. “Yeah, but you really don’t want to, do you?”

She didn’t. She looked him over. The truth was, she wanted to take him for a ride. Perhaps just once wouldn’t hurt. Bobbi would be pissed, but it’s not like she’d know anything about it. Matter of fact, sleeping with Bruce now would get him to leave her alone. His libido and ego would be satisfied, and her mind wouldn’t be distracted with urges and be clear for the weeks to come.

“Actually, I do . . . and go to your place,” she replied.

He gave her a sexy smile, showing his teeth. “We don’t have to go back to my place. Here is just fine.”

“Here?” she asked with shock. “Like out here?”

He chuckled. It was almost devilish. “Sure. You’re not scared, are you? You give off a vibe that you’re willing to take some risks.”

“Someone will see us. There’s a light a few feet away from us.”

“Most people don’t venture out this way until close to midnight,” Bruce said. “We can go over there next to the palm tree.” He pointed behind her.

Margo licked her lips. She had never done it outside before. What’s the worst that could happen? Someone seeing us?

“Well?” he inquired.

She smiled. “I’m game.” Before she could make a move, Bruce scooped her up in his arms and tossed her over his shoulder, making her giggle. He carried her over to the palm tree. It was a little darker in the spot, but the moon shined enough light for them to see.