Big Girls Get the Blues Read Online Free Page B

traffic too.
    I flicked on my radio and turned the volume up as loud as it would go.  Bob Seger blared, singing how much he loved that old time rock and roll, and I tried to lose myself in the hard rock.  But I was scared, and I hated being scared.  I hadn’t let that feeling overwhelm me in so long—and I hated it.
     
     
     
    Quinn
     
    I stood there on the street in front of the South Side VFW, watching Bev’s tail lights disappear as she turned onto East Carson.  The overwhelming feelings I’d been trying to resist had dragged me here, against my better judgment, and had pulled me to her, so close to pulling her to me and kissing her again.  That had been all I’d been thinking about for the last five days since I’d last been with her: kissing her, touching her, making love to her.
    I’d been a pussy whipped idiot to come there, to her freaking work—and I let her old man deck me.  How pathetic is that?
    I’d let those feelings rule me, and I was throwing myself at her like a love sick teenager.
    But then my fingers found that scar in the back of her beautiful nest of red curls.  I didn’t know what it meant, but when she’d whirled around on me, I recognized the look.  I’d recognized the tone of her voice when she’d warned me to get away from her.
    If she’d had a gun, she would have shot me.
    And what that all added up to in my head made my blood run cold.  Bev had been abused by someone…probably a man—probably a boyfriend.
    I gulped down the bile that wanted to churn up in my throat.  If I’d been on the force, and she’d been a vic, I would have turned her over to a female officer trained in domestic abuse…and then I would have given the bastard a “Tune Up” down in lockup.
    But this was real life, and whatever had happened to Bev had been a while ago.  But I’d brought it all back to vivid, horrifying life for her just by touching that scar.  I leaned down in a squat and held my head in my hands. 
    The last thing I’d wanted was to hurt her.  That’s why I’d been staying away from her all week, giving her the space she seemed to need.  After all, I wasn’t going to be there more than a month.  And as soon as Teddy came back she wouldn’t ever have to see me again.
    But sooner than I liked I wanted to see her again.  I needed to see her again.  And truthfully I’d thought that since half the staff had already gone to her and pleaded with her to come back…even scary as hell Tammy Fay…that she would have came back already.
    I mean, the club obviously couldn’t run right without her.  She seemed to be the glue that held it all together.  And I was just the shmuck that was filling in for both Teddy and her, and I couldn’t mix half the drinks the customers ordered.  I didn’t even know what muddle meant, or what a jigger was.  So the copy of the bartender’s bible I’d found behind the bar was a jumble of confus ing recipes.
    Who would have known that a gaggle of barely clad women could be so much trouble?   They seemed to loyally love each other deep down, but if one of them borrowed a stick of lipstick without permission, or if anyone tried to infringe on another’s slotted dance time—the fur flew.
    I’d had to physically breakup three cat-fights this week.  If I had to try to get between anymore buxom, mostly naked women again, I was going to need more therapy.
    How had Teddy done it?
    I knew the answer even before he’d told me over the phone from his vacation—which my sister had turned into a destination second honeymoon.  The kids were staying two weeks with my parents, and two weeks with Teddy’s in rural Ohio.  Poor kids…
    His answer had been that Bev handled it all.  She kept the cocktail waitresses in line, happy and hustling.  She was all the bouncer he’d ever needed, though he did employ one mammoth gorilla at the door as a visual deterrent.   If there was a customer getting out of line she’d either go over and smooth the