20. Chapter 20 - Ash

Iwas washing off a table and staring out at yet another rainy night. Don said, "Ash, if no one else comes in ten minutes, I'm sending you home."

I sighed. "I need the money."

"I know, me too. I'll share my tips tomorrow."

"I hate getting dressed, coming to work, and getting sent home."

"How'm I supposed to know in advance? I'm not a fortune teller." He said, "And how come you're so grumpy? How was your overnight with the Scot last night? He eat your pie?" He laughed.

"My sexual harassment case is going to be huge."

"It was just a joke."

"I know, and funny too, he did eat my real baked peach flaky round sweet dessert?—"

"I bet he liked your dessert."

"Very funny, then he went home."

"No stay over? He seemed like the kind of guy you'd want to nail down. Get it, ‘nail down'?"

"Yeah, and that harassment case just keeps getting more expensive."

He shrugged and laughed. "I've known you for ten years, if you haven't started the suit yet, you ain't going to."

"Yeah, I'm a lot of talk no action, last night was a perfect example of it."

"So what happened?"

"He's like a fighter, come to find out, like MMA and… he said dueling."

Don's face screwed up, "Like with guns? How is that even a thing?"

"Swords, and you've just blown past the idea that he's got a streak of violence in him. He said ‘like an MMA fighter.' What is that even, like fight club? I knew guys who were ‘fight club' kind of guys, not usually the kind of guys I ought to bring home."

"He didn't seem the type."

"Yeah, but I asked if he had killed someone and he basically admitted it, more than one."

"Basically admitted it... what do you mean?"

"He just admitted it."

"Has he been in jail?"

I shook my head.

"That's weird — he admitted manslaughter in your tiny little kitchen?"

"Yeah… it was weird — MMA is with an audience, right? It's not to the death — but then sword fighting?"

"Fencing is a thing you know…"

"Why didn't he say fencing? Why didn't he say ‘I fight MMA'? He said like MMA. He said he duels with swords. When I asked if he had killed someone, he gulped and wouldn't answer?—"

"How did you even get to that? I can't think of any conversation I've ever had where I asked, ‘Hey, you ever killed someone?'"

"There was something about the way he was talking about it, indirect, like he was lying."

"You hate liars."

"Yeah, just be straight up with me, tell the truth, and it was like he couldn't be straight, like he had done things he couldn't tell me about, so I asked."

"I think you're blowing it way out of proportion — he's an MMA fighter. Maybe it's different in Scotland, different rules, you know? And he fences sometimes. He does things differently because he's from Scotland. He calls you Mistress Ash. It's weird, but not criminal. You were in the army, you must know plenty of dudes like that."

"Yeah, a lot of them were edgy. I just wasn't prepared for him being edgy in my kitchen…"

Don said, "He's probably in the Scottish military, probably killed someone — it happens. You know it happens. He just isn't allowed to talk about it."

"Has it happened to you, you ever killed anyone?"

He said, "That's not really something I can talk about." Then he added, "See?"

"Yeah, good point." I huffed. "So what you're saying is he might have very good reasons why he had trouble answering me, and I let my imagination get the best of me. You're saying I might have let a hottie who seemed to genuinely like me get away?"

"He also kissed your knuckles, I saw it at least once."

"Drat. I messed up."

He began wiping the bar again, from one end to the other, as was his habit when he was bored, polishing it to a shine. "How'd you end it?"

"He kinda ran from my place, because the conversation had turned so antagonistic, it was so awkward. We didn't make any plans to see each other or..." I huffed again.

He said, "You could call him?"

"Yeah..." I sighed. "But I don't want to come off as desperate, you know?"

He teased, "You should be better than this — a hottie kisses your knuckles, and you don't pin him down, much less invite him to stay the night? I thought you would have better instincts."

I said, "Ha!"

Then the door of the Palace opened.

The two tables of guests and Don and I all turned and looked as, out of the dark rain and wind, Lochie blew in.

"Oh," I said.

He waved at me from across the room with a sheepish grin, and wiped at the rain dripping down his long overcoat. He unbuttoned the front, swept it off, and hung it on the coat rack by the door.

He was so freaking hot. He was wearing a dark coat with silver buttons. There were medals on his left chest. He wore a starched white shirt and a dark plaid kilt, white socks up his calves, a pair of Doc Martens. There was a sword at his hip and a fur bag on his front.

Our bouncer hefted himself up from a stool and approached him. "Sorry, can't bring that in."

Lochie ran his hand through his hair. "What, the sword? Tis part of m'uniform. I canna take it off or I am not in m'dress."

"You can't have it in here, but Don can keep it behind the bar. And no trouble, none. If you get drunk I'm not letting you have your sword back." The bouncer sat back down on the stool.

Lochie unbuckled his belt and took off his sword as he walked toward me. I stood speechless because he was so handsome — Don behind me said, "Careful, close your mouth, you're drooling."

"Am not," but I wiped my mouth to be sure.

Lochie passed the belt and sword to Don. "Good evening, Don, will ye hold m'sword for me?"

Don said, "Sure, Lochie, welcome."

He said, "Tis verra quiet here this evening." Then he took my hand, bowed and kissed my knuckles. "Good evening, Mistress Ash, are ye well?"

I nodded.

He met my eyes and held them.

I said, "I wanted to talk to you."

"I wanted tae speak tae ye as well. I apologize for the way I left ye last night."

"It's okay, it was a misunderstanding, I think — this is your uniform, you're a soldier?"

"I am a captain."

"Oh... so when you said that you duel and you fight and you... You meant that you were in the military?"

"I fight for my brother, when I am asked. And now I hae been asked, I must go away on urgent business — ye winna see me as I will be gone for a time. I wanted tae let ye ken."

I nodded. "Oh, that makes more sense, but that's too bad, we were just..."

Don said, "We don't need you anymore, Ash. Clock out, go home."

I said, "Would you like to go get something to eat?"

He said, "I would like that verra much, Mistress Ash," and his low rumbling voice just about made me swoon to the ground.