The Manager by Caroline Stellings

Author:Caroline Stellings
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Cape Breton University Press
Published: 2013-08-17T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The only part of me that got any sleep that night was my arm. Tina and I were squeezed together in one of the twin-sized beds, which meant I couldn’t turn over. And I was too hot. Neither one of us had the nerve to wear a nightgown, so we slept in our clothes. The heat was the worst kind – thick and sticky; the motel had no air conditioning, the fan made a whiny metallic grinding sound and the threats made by the two thugs echoed from the dark recesses of my mind.

Tina slept like a log.

For her, the combination of a profound feeling of accomplishment for winning her first fight as a professional manager, and extreme exhaustion, led her straight to dreamland without a single detour. I was glad she could sleep; I didn’t want her to start thinking about the Ilizarov procedure, although even it wouldn’t have been as bad as what the two mobsters had in mind for us if Jesse didn’t let their guy win.

Jesse had no problem sleeping either. Obviously not the shy type, when he came out of the shower (which was down the hall, across from the front desk, and past six other rooms) he wore nothing but a towel, which he promptly threw to one side of the room before retiring for the night. Tina and I were used to naked men, but Jesse didn’t know it; I think he was trying to rattle our cages a bit. Mine was rattled, but it would take a lot more than male anatomy to stir Tina’s imagination, so his attempt to show off didn’t have quite the impact he might have thought it would.

In fact, Tina continued to drill him about his combination punches even after he’d tossed the towel. From the look on his face, I’d have to say that it was the first time in his skirt-chasing life that a girl – my sister – had not been the least bit impressed by his masculinity.

I guess I must have drifted off at one point, because the sound of Tina and Jesse’s bickering startled me. It was about three in the morning. He was asking if she had any aspirin, and she was reminding him what it would do to his blood.

“You’ll just have to work through the pain. We’ve got to get that cut healed or Stone will aim for it as soon as he hears the bell.”

Jesse swore at her.

“That’s just the pain talking,” said Tina.

“You’re the only pain that’s talking.”

Then Jesse mumbled something else – I couldn’t make it out – then they were quiet for a minute or two. The room was dark, silent except for the fan and the faint sounds from a party going on a few doors down. I was closest to the window; the motel’s neon lights flashed red and blue patches of colour across my pillow.

At one point, Jesse spoke softly to Tina.

“Your old man, he’s a boxer, right?”

“Was.”

“What happened?”

“Wrecked his hand.”

“How?”

“I don’t know.

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