Reagan Meets Hayes
(Chapter of unnamed WIP. Read Order: 2)
Reagan wasn't going. Not a chance. And that was that. The invitation might as well have been bomb for all she cared. The ticking of the little clockwork mechanism had been ingenious, she had to give it that, but she was not stepping a toe onto that property or in that house. No.
She slung her dark hair up into a ponytail, her fingers working furiously and her eyes unfocused on the mirror. Her mind was whirring like the ticking mechanism in the invitation. The gears turning as she ferociously pre-planned her angry response to Rin.
"How dare you even suppose I would be okay in that environment? Don't you understand addiction at all?!"
She twisted the hair tie around her hair as she held it tightly fisted at the top of her head, yelping as it broke and snapped her fingers painfully. The pain jogged her into focus briefly and she hissed with it, meeting her own gaze in the mirror, unsurprised by the intensity brewing behind her eyes. She reached for another hair tie, her breath a huff through her nose as her argument transferred from her mind to reality.
"Mom will be there and she'll say her things and look at me with that look and you know I'd rather be eaten alive by birds than face that. You know that, Rinna!"
Reagan sighed loudly and pulled two halves of the ponytail to tighten it severely. "Self-punishment isn't healthy, Reagan," she heard the voice of her sponsor. Out loud, Reagan said, "Screw you."
Those words took the fury out of her though. She sighed again, softer this time, and her shoulders slumped. She examined herself in the mirror and knew her skin was too pale. Where once had been a field of freckles, she was pasty with sunken purple half-moons under her eyes. Her fingernails had been bitten down to the quick and then some. Her collarbone was painfully visible and she knew, beneath her work uniform, her ribs stood out in sharp relief below her skin. If she'd been auditioning for the role of drug addict, she would have been cast on the spot. It didn't help that she couldn't eat and rarely was sleep her friend. She wasn't dope sick though and that was the only blessing.
"Alright, alright!" she called over her shoulder to Twila who had begun a maternal burring to remind her she'd be late for work if she didn't get her butt in gear.
One last look and a weary sigh. Reagan left the apartment as quickly as she could, lighting up a cigarette for the walk to the restaurant. She wished she had music to listen to but she'd sold her iPod ages ago for the tiniest bump of white powder she'd ever seen. Just to take the edge off. Instead, she was stuck with the sound of her own thoughts which were continuing on that endless argument with Rin that she knew, ultimately, she would never actually have. She couldn't. It was her sister's wedding after all. She should be happy for Rin. And she was. Mostly. Still, it had caught her a little off guard not to see Owen's name on the invitation. When had they broken up? Who was this Ash? The invitation for the engagement dinner had said he was Ashland Sullivan. The name vaguely hit a memory but Reagan couldn't place it. She had been more confused by the fact that her sister had invited her in the first place.
Reagan was grateful for the relief from her own thoughts when she arrived at the Night Whale. The building was painted a deep, ocean blue on the outside and decorated with twinkling lights and a mural of starry whales and clouds of smaller, pale fish. The artist was the owner's wife who had also decorated the interior in such a way that the theme wasn't at all cheesy. Reagan liked the symmetry of that. He ran the business, she made it pretty. And both were good at what they did. The restaurant was a safe haven for its employees, a family atmosphere encouraged. Reagan was starting to warm up to it but she had been working there less than two weeks so far and hadn't made more than acquaintances. She wasn't sure she wanted more. The closer people got, the more questions they asked. She wasn't sure she was ready to explain the scars on her wrists or the haunted look in her eyes that her sponsor had been quick to point out. Reagan felt she could hide here in the Night Whale and it felt safer than her own home. Which was why she tolerated the rude customers and the idiot bussers who stole tips.
She slung her purse into her locker in the employee lounge and tied on the company apron complete with starry whale logo. Her name tag read "Megan" which was something like an inside joke between her and Olivia, the owner's wife. She had mis-heard Reagan, who was loathe to explain yet again that she was named for the American president Ronald Reagan and not the more normal female name, Megan. When Olivia realized her mistake she'd made a big fuss and embarrassed Reagan who reassured her that she'd much rather be Megan sometimes. Megan seemed normal. She hadn't missed the concern that flashed across Olivia's face in that moment but it was to the woman's credit that she had stopped making a fuss and hadn't coddled Reagan at all. If she had, Reagan wasn't sure she would have stayed past the first day. She did not want to be the center of any attention. She made minimal tips because of it but she was making enough to survive. And survival was all she had the mental capacity for at the moment.
As Reagan walked through the hall from the employee lounge to the kitchen and serving station, Junie, a cute little blonde with the deepest dimples Reagan had ever seen, breezed by. She delivered news Reagan had never once wanted to hear in her life. "There's a guy in your section. He asked for you personally. Ooh, go get 'em, chalupa!"
Reagan snorted a laugh through her nose at being called chalupa. That was not an inside joke. Junie was notoriously terrible with names and associated her co-workers with the first menu item that came to mind. What Junie had said sank in slower but when it did, dread filled Reagan like a chill straight into her bones. How had he found her? What was she going to do? Desperately she called to Junie who had circled back for a cup of ketchup she'd missed.
"Did he say his name?"
Junie gave Reagan a stern look, pausing to put a hand on her hip. "He's really cute. Are you nervous? Is that it? Because I can take the table if-"
There was too much of an air of anticipation on Junie's face for Reagan. She put a hand up and shook her head. "No, I'll take it." The last thing she needed was sweet, naive Junie falling under Brandon's spell.
Fear crept up the back of her neck though and the tiny hairs she hadn't captured in her ponytail prickled. This could potentially be very bad but she reminded herself that she was in a safe place. The owner, Tony, kept a close eye on the wait staff and if she was distressed, he'd take care of it. She imagined him enlisting Rodrigo the line cook and his brother Antonio who was running the bar tonight. The three of them would be imposing enough to ward off even her crazy ex. She wasn't too worried Brandon would get out of hand though. She had withstood enough physical violence from him to know she could handle more if she had to. No, it was what he might say... how he might look at her. The way he used his eyes to either make love to her or terrify her to the core. That was what she wasn't sure she could handle. And he knew it.
But how had he found her?
She was suddenly aware that Tony had called her name and now he was talking to her. She turned to him, shaking the thoughts from her mind as best she could. His expression said he was pretty aware that she was freaking out.
"What's up?" he asked, stepping closer to her in a way that made her somewhat uncomfortable but part of her knew he simply meant well and wanted to keep the conversation between them.
Reagan shook her head. "Nothing. I uh had a weird start this morning. Junie says I have someone in my section already?"
Tony glanced toward the large windowed wall toward the front of the restaurant which was Reagan's usual section on a Thursday afternoon shift. He nodded, eyes squinting as he scrutinized the patron who had his back to them both. "Yeah but if you're not good with it, I can put Marcos on it."
Reagan shook her head again and boxed her shoulders. "No, it's fine."
Tony paused a moment, eyeing Reagan's face quietly. It looked like it was against his better judgment to let her go but there was no reason not to so he stepped back. "Alright, but if you need anything just-"
Reagan put up a hand and smiled a little. "I know. Thanks, Tony."
She fidgeted with her name tag as she grabbed an order pad from the serving station and pulled a pencil from her pocket. She wasn't super great at remembering orders without writing them down yet and the pad was cumbersome but she could at least clock him in the head with it if he started something, right?
Approaching the table, Reagan was a little confused. His back was to her and it didn't look like Brandon's lean frame. This guy was bigger, well toned, like he had plenty of time to be at the gym. He had a good haircut and a very expensive looking watch, which he looked at casually before she rounded to face him. Not Brandon. At all. A new fear filled her then. A complete stranger, a man she'd never met, had asked for her by name? Oh. No. Maybe they had met. There was a lot she didn't remember from her days on the street but surely she had never been so out of it that she'd given him an actual name! The cold in her bones radiated outward and her voice was a scratchy whisper, as she willed the nightmarish half-memories to stay at bay.
"H-how can I h-help you, sir? Would you like a..a.. a dr-rink?"
The man's eyebrows shot up slightly and then he gave her the warmest smile. "Hi! Wow, you really DO look like your sister."
Reagan was dumbfounded, fear slowly slipping away into annoyance. Was she really somehow the target of one of her sister's fans? Reagan grumbled internally, "Dammit, Ruby, why did you have to write that damn book with all our real damn names?"
The man looked apologetic and offered her his hand. "Sorry, that was weird. I'm Ashland Sullivan, Ash. You can call me Ash. Gosh. Just like Rin," he said.
"Rin's fiance? What the everliving hell?" Reagan thought.