About Skywalker
by Kiernan Kelly
22 pages / 10200 words
ISBN: 978-1-60370-962-0
Available file types -
html, lit, pdf, prc, epub, Sony Reader pdf
Robert Prescott Reyes-Waterson is a man with four names, an office-with-a-view, and a superior attitude, particularly when it comes to blue collar workers. That changes when he meets Joseph Brant, a full-blooded Mohawk ironworker who isn’t what he seems, and won’t take “no” for an answer.
Sample
He was there, sitting at the same table we'd sat at
the night before. He looked up when I walked in, smiled, and waved me
over to his table as if we were old friends and he'd been expecting me.
"Hey, Bob," he said. His grin was wide, and seemed earnest to me, as if
he were actually happy to see me. The thought reawakened parts of me
that I'd just gotten to behave a few hours before.
"It's Robert. Bob is something you do for apples," I replied, with a
tentative smile of my own. "Nice to see you again, Joseph. I didn't
think you'd be here."
"Of course you did, or at least you were hoping. You drinking vodka
again, or do you want a beer this time?"
What an ego! I thought. Even though I knew he was right, I wasn't about
to admit it. I cleared my throat, wondering if he could see the blush I
felt crawling up my cheeks. "I most certainly did not come in here
looking for you--"
"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands as if in surrender.
"Whatever you say. What will it be? Beer or vodka?"
I decided to be magnanimous and overlook his arrogance. At least, that's
what I told myself. Deep down inside, I knew I was fortunate he was even
speaking to me, considering what an asshole I'd been the night before. I
was determined not to repeat my mistakes, and forced a smile to my lips.
"Beer, please. Dos Equis, if they have it."
Joseph rolled his eyes. "They won't. It's Bud or Miller on tap, Guinness
or Sam Adams in bottles. If you're lucky, they might have a few bottles
of Corona, but I wouldn't count on it."
"Bud, then." I tried to remember the last time I'd ordered anything as
mundane as a Budweiser. Not recently, probably not since I graduated
college. The men I associated with didn't drink Bud. They drank imported
beer, when they drank it at all. Blue sapphire martinis with two olives
were their usual drink of choice. Shaken, not stirred, thank you very
much, James Bond. I pushed the thought aside, determined to drink
whatever piss water they put in front of me, and to do so without
complaint. "Listen, Joseph… I want to apologize for last night."
He looked genuinely puzzled. "For what?"
"For behaving like a real jerk. I said a lot of very rude things, none
of which you deserved. I'm sorry."
He waved a tanned, callused hand at me. "Forget it. You came back. That
alone tells me you didn't mean what you said. Oh, and for the record, I
do find you attractive, whether or not you care about my opinion, and I
came here tonight hoping you'd show up."
"You do? You did?" I was sure the guys over by the billiards table could
hear the thud as my jaw hit the floor. I was amazed that he'd given me a
second thought after the way I'd behaved, never mind think enough of me
to want to see me again.
He shrugged one of his broad shoulders. "Yeah. You're cute and sexy in a
corporate, stick-stuck-up-your-ass sort of way."
Unbelievable. I was torn between being incredibly insulted and extremely
aroused.
"Well, thanks… I think."
"It was definitely a compliment," he said with a grin.
"Really? Because it almost sounded like an insult."
"Nah. You're imagining things." He was playing with my head and enjoying
it immensely. I could tell by the glint of humor in his dark eyes.
Amazingly, I wasn't irritated… well, not very, anyway. I smiled. "Yeah,
well, that stick has been wedged in there for a lot of years. It may
take some time before I can get it out. I'm trying, though."
"Maybe it just takes positive thinking. Well, that and lube. You'd be
surprised at how easily things move when they're lubed."
Whoa. Was that a sexual innuendo, or was I so severely out of practice
that I no longer knew flirting when I heard it? I must have looked
shell-shocked, because he chuckled again and signaled the waitress to
order our beer.