Three

Sofia

S liding up onto the bar stool, I check my watch. I don’t know why, I’m not expecting anyone. Not anymore. Ellen’s just sent me a text to say she can’t make it now. Oscar, her husband, a prominent businessman, needs her to host an impromptu drinks evening for a client of his. An important client that could bring a lot of money Oscar’s way, so I’ve been side-lined. But I’m here now so I might as well have a drink. I don’t feel much like going home just yet.

I order a white wine and text Ana. She’s at home with Lars, celebrating. Their meeting was a success, they’ve managed to broker a better deal with the supplier, she’s a clever girl, my daughter. My phone pings back a reply and I smile at the photograph she’s sent me, of her and Lars messing about like the kids they were not that long ago. I’d love for her to see Lars as more than just a brother figure, he’s a good man. Ana and the twins, they grew up together, they’ve been friends since they were five years old which is why Ana doesn’t really see him as anything other than that “brother” she never had, despite my subtle attempts to try and make her think otherwise. She always seems to fall for men who break her heart; the tattooed, tough-talking bad boy. She loves them. They love her. They hurt her. I’d like to see her marry Lars and live happily-ever-after in a cute little house in the street next to mine, but I can’t push her in a direction she’s never willfully going to follow, no matter how much I want that. It's my dream, not hers.

“That was one heavy sigh there. You got something on your mind?”

My head shoots up at the sound of a deep, almost gravel-toned voice coming from right beside me. There’d been nobody there a second ago, I guess I was too caught up fantasizing about my daughter’s perfect future to realize somebody’s standing there now.

“I’m sorry?” I’m not going to answer personal questions from a complete stranger.

“That sigh. I know that kind of sigh. You’re frustrated.”

“I don’t think it’s any of your business what I am.”

He smiles, this stranger who feels it’s okay to have this conversation with me. “It isn’t, you’re right. I apologize.” He holds up his hands and takes a couple of steps back. “I’ll leave you to it. You’re quite obviously waiting for someone.”

He likes making assumptions, this tall, quite imposing man with the deep voice and piercing eyes. But there’s something about him that’s darkly fascinating. He seems very at ease, very self-assured, and that isn’t a bad thing. Dressed simply in black pants and jacket, gray shirt, his dark hair pushed back off his face, a good few days’ worth of stubble – it’s almost a beard – covering his strong jaw line, he’s handsome, in a rough-edged way. But I’m not in the habit of picking up strangers in bars, and the last thing on my mind right now is a relationship, of any kind. When Ana’s father walked out on us he hurt me. Badly. He abandoned his daughter; his wife. Our family. He took my trust with him and I’m in no hurry to put that in any man again.

“I was waiting for someone.”

He looks at me, smiles slightly, and I find myself smiling back. “Are you telling me some guy has stood you up?”

I wait a second before I respond, I’m still weighing up whether or not I feel comfortable, talking to this man.

“My friend and I, we were supposed to be having dinner but she had to call it off at the last minute. And as I was already here I thought I might as well have one quick drink before I head home.”

He keeps his distance. He’s obviously very good at reading situations, he can tell I’m wary. But interested. God help me, I’m interested. I’m not a robot! I might have sworn off relationships but I haven’t stopped wanting human contact, a conversation with someone other than Ana, her friends, my work colleagues; my bank manager or business advisor telling me three times a day how close my business is to failing. How my life could fall apart at any given moment. It might be nice to escape that for a couple of hours, after all, that’s what tonight was supposed to have been about. And it’s not like we’re on our own, this place is full of people, I think I’m pretty safe.

“Would you mind if I joined you?”

I leave a beat or two before I answer. I’m just making sure, in my own mind, that I really am okay with this. That I really do want to have a drink with a man I’ve only just met, because this is new territory for me. I’ve never done anything like this before.

“I’d like that.” I smile. Yeah. I’m okay with this. “So, are you going to tell me your name?”

He returns my smile and takes a step toward me. “Call me Skip.”

Skip

I never married. I never wanted to. The club was the only family I needed, the only one I wanted. Women on tap, brothers to hang out with, we had work to do. A permanent old lady was only ever going to be too much of a distraction. Still would be. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want company. That I don’t want to talk to someone besides my brothers; the club girls who frequent our compound. Sometimes I want more. Something different. I get off on different. I like taking risks.

“Okay. I’ve told you my name, you gonna tell me yours?”

This woman here, I made a beeline for her the second I saw her, sitting alone at the bar, checking her watch. I knew she’d been stood up before she told me as much. Beautiful in an ethereal way with her long blonde hair and lightly tanned skin, I wasn’t letting her get away.

“Sofia. My name’s Sofia.”

“Sofia…” I repeat her name slowly. Look right into her eyes. I’m one charming son-of-a-bitch when I want to be. And these are the times when I call that charm into play, when I’m not being the president of a biker club. When I leave the familiarity of my own town behind and visit places I’m not known; not recognized for the shit-stirring the Vikings can cause. Sometimes. We’re not total assholes. Not all of the time.

I watch as she rolls her eyes before fixing me with a wary look. “You’re not going to churn out that ‘beautiful name for a beautiful lady’ line, are you?”

“You are beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She smiles. And it’s a killer smile. “You just don’t seem like the kind of man who reels off cheesy chat-up lines, that’s all.”

“What kind of man do I seem like?”

She takes a sip of her drink, and I focus on her pale pink lips as they barely touch the rim of the glass, it’s insanely hot! And then her eyes are back on mine and it’s all I can do to control my aching cock.

“Mysterious.” She rests her elbow on the counter, her chin in her hand, and she laughs. And the sound she makes, it’s fucking beautiful!

“Mysterious, huh?”

She doesn’t say anything, she just smiles at me, again, and I feel something kick up inside me, a feeling deep in my gut that’s new. Different. She’s different.

“I’m not that mysterious, I promise you. I’m a pretty ordinary kinda guy.”

I don’t come to these places, meet these women, to tell them the truth. I come here to escape the club for a few hours. To have a taste of what my father gave the life up for, I guess I really do have his genes. I want to be with women who challenge me, not those who want to sleep with me purely because I’m president of a notorious biker gang.

“What do you do, Skip?”

“I run a few businesses – an auto repair shop, a diner, and we’ve just opened up a tattoo and piercing studio.”

She frowns slightly. “Some pretty diverse businesses there.”

She’s right. They are. And most of them are fronts for the money laundering we got going on within the club, but that’s not something she needs to know. We run legit businesses too, but she doesn’t need to know that, either.

“I enjoy taking risks.” I hold her gaze and she doesn’t flinch, doesn’t waver. “So, how do you spend your days, Sofia?”

She briefly drops her gaze, starts fiddling with the hem of her sunflower-yellow dress. And when she looks back up she’s got a smile on her face, but one that hasn’t reached her eyes. She’s forcing that smile. “I’m an accountant.” She shrugs. “It’s all pretty boring, really.”

“We all need accountants, sweetheart.”

“Maybe… Look, I should be going. It’s getting late and I have a meeting I need to prepare for in the morning.” She slides down from the bar stool, flattens her dress down over a body I’m pretty sure is damn hot, and I don’t want her to go, I don’t, because this isn’t how this usually works. Women don’t walk away from me, they always want more. These nights always end with sex and a swift goodbye before I leave this secret life behind and go back to my real one. I call the shots. Me, not them. “It was nice meeting you, Skip.”

She hesitates, almost as though she doesn’t really want to leave, and I’m not going to make her. She doesn’t have to go. But now I’m not so sure that, even if she stayed, this night would end in sex. I don’t want a swift goodbye, not this time, Jesus…! No. No, this isn’t what happens…

“I want to see you again.” The words are out of my mouth before I even realize I’ve said them, but I mean it. I do want to see her again. Which is strange and quite alien to me, but I’m running with it anyway. Like I said, I like taking risks. It’s what makes me feel alive.

“Oh… okay, I… I’m not sure…”

She bows her head, starts playing with the delicate silver bracelet hanging elegantly from her wrist. I can’t let this one go. I can’t. I’m so fucking attracted to her it’s knocking the breath right out of me. I’ve never felt this shit before, and I don’t know if I like it, if I’m okay with it, but I take risks every day of my fucking life. This is just another one.

“I’m talking dinner here, that’s all.”

She slowly raises her gaze, and this time the smile is right there in her eyes. “Okay. What harm can it do?”

No harm.

No harm at all…