SlowBurn

I had just come from a job interview that didn’t leave me feeling very confident whilst walking back out the office doors. Nobody is hiring in this market unless I want a minimum wage job which just couldn’t cut it for me. Not if I wanted to pay tuition and rent.

I'd promised my parents that I'd find a job that would pay my way and they agreed that if I could find a job I could move with my boyfriend half way across America. I was meant to do that and then apply for schools, in that order.

My boyfriend was in an off campus apartment but he swore it was against regulations to let me move in with him so technically my living situation was a little unorthodox.

He knew a girl that dated his buddy who had a ‘share house’ type of situation where a bunch of people rented rooms out of apartments. I was living with three other people right now in a three bedroom apartment. Lucky two of them were dating and shared a room.

I was offered the smallest room in the house which left much to be desired but I'd agreed because I really had nowhere else to go.

I thought my boyfriend would take the step of moving in with me but he swore it was just because he'd already paid his living situation with tuition and couldn’t get the money back.

I understood and so I live across town with three strangers.

Walking down the city sidewalk I was dodging elbows and jogging across pedestrian walkways, because cars don’t seem to stop in Boston. Neither do bicyclists and I learned that the hard way.

One dang near killed me the other day on the other unsuccessful interview I went to.

While sidestepping a wide bodied individual on the sidewalk I noticed a homeless man with hunched shoulders trying to speak to each person that passed him. They walked by the man without even a glance his way. Like he didn’t even exist.

When I got a few steps closer I could finally hear his pleas.

“Please, spare a few dollars for a meal.” I furrowed my brows and approached the man.

My interview outfit today was a pair of cream colored high rise trendy slacks with a white top tucked into it, and a pair of electric blue heels...that I borrowed from my roommate.

I never carry a purse so I hold very minimal items. A bit of cash in my pocket and my phone with a clear case that holds my MBTA transit pass, license, and my flat spare key to the house. I don’t even have a debit card.

I rummaged around in my pocket and pulled out a five and a few dollars.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have much. I need half to refill my pass for the bus...but please, have the rest” I held some crumpled bills in my hand offering it to the man.

He looked surprised that I'd noticed him before he noticed me.

I looked at his worse for wear clothing and a layer of grime on his flesh and guilt filled me when I noticed he was looking around where we were in downtown Boston to see where he could spend the few dollars I gave.

“You know what” I called for his attention. People on the sidewalk were annoyed that we were standing in the middle of it but too bad. That’s what they get for ignoring a man’s pleas.

“I’ll walk home. Please, take this. Find something to eat” I handed him the rest of what I had. The man looked incredibly grateful. It was something so sincere that passed through his eyes in that split second.

He was about to speak before we were suddenly interrupted by a man in the alley beside us.

“Give the girl her dollars back. This is my brother’s restaurant, we’ll find you something to eat” the other man offered, flicking his finished cigarette on the ground. I swallowed at the sight of him.

Dark hair, dark lashes lining shaded blue eyes, and he wore a fitted suit perfectly tailored to his incredible body. The muscles can’t be seen but the build is obvious.

His lips look soft and pink but the voice that left his mouth was gruff and authoritative.

“Thank ya, sir” the homeless man put his two hands together in thanks before handing me back the cash.

The suited man gave a curt nod. No emotion on his face. Relaxed body language as he remained leaning his broad shoulder into the building’s side alley we were in front of. A building I now know to be a restaurant.

Looked peculiar for a restaurant though. It was a commonplace brick building just after the skyscrapers of downtown, and the drapes were drawn shut during peak lunch hours.The name is heavily Italian but unfamiliar to me.

“You too” the suited man caught my attention.

You’d think he’s completely indifferent if not for the eyes. They blazed when they settled on you and they told me he wasn’t offering. He was ordering me to come along.

“Oh, that’s okay. Thank you for helping this gentleman though” I motioned to walk away. He pushed off the wall and took one step in front of my path.

“You stay with him or he doesn’t come in” his voice was something heavy and made my insides clench.

“Oh” I looked at the hungry man and back at the man in the suit. I guess he wanted me to be held accountable in case the homeless man did something? I couldn’t deny the man a meal so I just quietly nodded.

As soon as I stepped inside the door with it’s closed sign hanging in the frosted glass window I knew this place was upscale.

The outside was deceiving, it looked like a brick building with squared windows that were closed in thick burgundy colored drapes. I suppose they do look like fancy drapes. The lights were dimmed like this place was in fact closed.

When you initially walk in there is a hostess podium. After that there is booth seating along the left hand wall behind it leading up until a set of doors that was obviously the kitchen.

Towards the right were the more scattered tables but the back right hand corner was a bar. The walls made the place feel slightly more homey with the homage to the mother country Italy. Plates with hand painted craftsmanship and tiles.

The booth seats were upholstered black leather and since there were no table clothes I could see the deep mahogany type of wood that it was made of. The scattered tables towards the right had tablecloths so those I don’t know.

The bar was made up of that same deep colored wood and the pendant lighting overhead hung down in a gold hue just like the strategic way they have the back shelves lit to showcase their pricier liquor items.

The suited man pulled a dark stool that blended with the bar tops counter space.

“Sit” he ordered me, and I assumed the homeless man, but he'd only pulled out my chair.

After that the suited man walked through those doors to the back of the establishment and I was left with the homeless man whose name I should really ask because it’s rude to just keep referring to him that way.

“I’m Kat, what’s your name?” I extended my hand to shake his. He hesitated and looked down at his own hands.

“They’re dirty” he didn’t extend to shake mine.

“So...mine probably are too” I giggled.

By his stringy gray hair beneath the rolled cap he had on I'd say he's in his 50′s or 60′s. He’d taken the cap off out of respect when we sat down. The man chuckled.

“Peter” he introduced himself and this time he took my hand and shook it. I won’t lie and say I didn’t notice a bit of an odor but I didn’t mind it.

When the suited man appeared he had two bowls of pasta with a regular bolognese sauce. He placed them in front of each of us.

Honestly, I'm pinching pennies so I eat far less good food then I should just because of cost. This hearty bowl looked delicious and I thanked the man before digging in.

“Oh wow...this doesn’t taste like jarred sauce” I smiled to compliment the flavor. His face was stone still. Okay then.

“Because it isn’t” was all he said before walking behind the bar we were sitting at and grabbing himself a short glass. I decided to turn my attention to Peter. Before I could ask him a question he beat me to it.

“You look pretty young but you look mighty fancy. Do you work around here?” He asked me. I glanced down at myself.

“Oh thank you. I’m actually looking for a job. I just came from an interview” I explained my appearance.

“OH. Those can be hard to come by” he smiled sadly.

“Peter, can I ask what brought on your situation? I understand if you’d rather not discuss personal-” He didn’t let me finish. “I’ll tell ya” he paused to shove a mouth full of pasta so I waited.

I couldn’t help but notice the smooth movements of the suited man. He moved with finesse.

His hand had paused as he skimmed the different bottles and when he found the one he liked he grabbed it and twisted the cap before pouring about a two finger pours worth of whiskey.

Upon a better look at him I could see his full dark hair was long enough to be tousled up top, but styled more tapered at the sides so he could keep it tame and styled.

Something told me ‘tame’ wasn’t an adjective to use in regards to this man. Not that he had done anything for me to warrant that thought.

He’s barely spoken and he moved with no urgency, but still I felt ‘tame’ just wasn’t it. He looks the way an expensive whiskey must taste. Smoky finish, smooth to swallow.

The tailored suit of a respected businessman but the finesse of...something a shade darker than that.

His beautiful Italian skin is obvious to me now.

“When I was 51, this was a few years back...I got hurt on the job. I didn’t really have insurance. I was kind of working for a guy who was working for a guy. Anyway, it was my knee and it was busted, bad. I went to shitty healthcare physicians who work for the state and they just threw some pills at me to get me to go away. Thing is...I really was in a lot of pain, so they filled and refilled my prescription. You following hunny?”

“Oh no, they just pumped you full of drugs and didn’t give you a second glance, did they?” I was catching on.

“I got addicted” he sighed. He looked back down at his plate and finished his meal. He must’ve been really hungry because he devoured his dish when I wasn’t even halfway done with mine.

I noticed the suited man was still behind the bar, facing away from us, looking at some book, maybe for his brother’s restaurant. He ignored us.

“And how are you coping now?” I leaned my elbow on the high counter of the mahogany bar, genuinely curious. Concerned even.

“They’ve got that suboxone clinic down by Sullivan Square. I’m trying to lean off the pills. Do you know what suboxone is?” He tipped his greasy head at me. I nodded, “It can treat narcotic dependence.”

I felt rude focusing on my food when he was telling me such personal things so I kept eye contact and paused with my fork in my hand.

“I’ve got daughters. Older than you I'm sure but I gotta get my life right. They won’t speak to me while I'm homeless and drug addicted. They’ve made that clear. I don’t blame Sammi, she’s got the baby” he shook his head.

“Peter, I know I am just a stranger eating pasta with you but I truly believe that you have a good heart and the capability to rehabilitate yourself. If not for your own sake than for your grandbabies sake. I adored my grandfather” I smiled fondly at the memory.

He released a breath through his thin lips that flapped.

“A stranger? I think I met an angel” he gave me a genuine smile.

“Well, if I am your guardian angel then you better listen to me. Get clean, get your family back, and usually if you’re getting clean through the state they offer some programs to help you find employment or disability if you're still unwell with your knee and everything.”

He nodded like he already knew.

“You’re a good girl, Kat. Don’t let this world eat you alive” he told me, or warned me. “Sir...thank ya for the meal” he tried getting the suited man’s attention.

He turned slightly to glance at Peter and again he gave that curt nod. Completely disinterested.

“Thank you, you have no idea what a friendly smile and a nice conversation can do for a person. God bless you” he told me, and stood up. I realized he was meaning to leave. I felt odd just lingering to stuff my face of food so I stood too.

“Bye Peter” I called after him but I was trying to tuck the stool in.

“Eat” the suited man ordered me. I furrowed my brows at him though my pulse picks up every time his handsome face looks my way.

“You’re awfully bossy” I told him, but I was already pulling the stool back out to finish my food. I really wanted to eat.

“And you’re very chatty,” he replied. My cheeks tinted pink at his retort.

“People were ignoring him in the street. Like he wasn’t even a person. That’s why we were chatting...” I oddly defended myself. What the heck should I care what this man thinks? He was kind enough to offer a homeless man a meal so I'll give him a little credit but still.

“He would’ve used your little dollars to buy drugs or liquor. Guaranteed” he spoke in his gruff tone, yet he could make his tempo sound so disinterested. It made me self conscious like I was boring him to death.

I watched as he fixed the cufflinks on the end of his sleeve before his blue eyes went back up to mine. I darted my eyes down to my plate and took another bite.

“Well...you don’t know for sure” I tried defending Peter.

“You aren’t from the city” he stated more so than he asked a question. I shook my head.

“Then listen to Peter. Don’t let them eat you alive, because sweetheart,” he leaned both hands on the bar and stared down at me, “there are bad people everywhere. And your kind little heart is gonna be crushed under the feet of people who will take advantage of your kindness.”

He lectured me. Sure he looked slightly older but not enough to warrant this lecture.

“You were kind. Did we take advantage of you?” I asked him to mute his point.

“I’m not kind” he deadpanned. This man was tall, very tall, so even with me sitting on a high stool he still looked down on me. Especially with the way his two hands were still flat on the counter in front of me.

He has sexy man hands. You know the kind. Clean cut nails. Veined, leading up to and under the sleeve that hid the rest of his corded muscles from me.

“Then why’d you feed us?” I really wanted to win this challenge I felt he was setting up for me. He doesn’t look like someone who likes to be wrong.

He looked down at me and instead of answering he just licked his lips. Something about the gesture made heat creep up my neck and down my gut.

I couldn’t stand the silence. It felt like the air had thickened to the point of suffocating me. Christ, did it get hot in here?