(This series is a collaboration with my good friend Sanchez. His ideas, I ran with it. We will see how it evolves. He has a sound concept, and characters, I'm primarily piecing it all together and seeing how it plays out. We hope you enjoy our efforts.)
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MIDNIGHT Episode 004: GOSSAMER
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"Clam chowder for table two is up Midnight!"
Naomi Walker, soon to be Culpepper, a fellow waitress reminded the girl who appeared lost in her job the last two hours. Unresponsive Naomi slapped the girl's ass hoping that might lure her back to reality. What it did though was make Midnight moan a soft unexpected thank you by arching her back as if hoping for another. Naomi narrowed her eyes at her co-worker, "What's gotten into you lately? First you let those Tuna Boat Bastard's paw you up yesterday, now you act like you want me to paddle your bottom."
"Just...being silly." Midnight Amador attempted to talk her way out of any real answer.
"No, you weren't! Soon as business slows down you and I are having a no nonsense talk Critter." The 35-year-old waitress knew better. She had kids of her own at home, she knew lovesick when she saw it. Or at least a worthy fancy.
"I have a..." She almost said date but slowed down, "...meeting tonight."
"Surely not AA! You don't drink. What kind of meeting?"
"Someone." Her soft-spoken voice led to an unblinking stare. Her gaze almost hoping Naomi might read her mind. The longer they glared at one another it dawned on Naomi who reacted with awe, then worry.
"That fella yesterday in black? Tats all up and down his arms? Isn't he a tad old for you? He's my age or older."
"Does it matter? Age?" The raven-haired beauty let her eyes seek answers, sparkling orbs with so much curiosity it was almost a childlike sympathy ploy.
"Well...no! I guess not, but sweetie...you're an angel. I see Satan in that guy." She sighs loudly, "Maybe not Satan, but surely a protΓ©gΓ©."
"He was nice."
"He didn't lift a pinky to defend you against Pete Barstow's mitts. A real man would have stood up to them." She hadn't heard Nick Sanchez share a threat when Pete had pushed his limits. That was for men's ears alone. "It almost looked as if you...wanted them to feel you up." Shrugging shyly Midnight slipped past Naomi and claimed the clam chowder taking it to table two. Naomi still expressing awe in a more loitering manner watched Midnight deliver the bowl then keep her distance. "She did. I better keep my eyes on this girl."
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Five miles down the road...
Nick Sanchez spent the remainder of his afternoon brooding. He hoped that he might get a call back from Tilly Cooper over speaking with the bank about the foreclosed-on property and his counteroffer. With no reply in the last three hours, he dove into his daily workout just to occupy his mind, nude to feel comfortable, he enjoyed his privacy. Swatting and slapping at a Wushu Wing Chun practice dummy that his buddy Marcus had on hand in his beach house gym kept his physical process at peak performance. After a good thirty-minute workout he took a breather and grabbed a bottle of water to hydrate against the Carolina heat.
From there he did chin ups in a door threshold amounting to 100 repetitions, Nick Sanchez was hardly a lazy man. Ending that dedicated pleasure, he took another breather to get some air, stepping back out to the back deck to take in the ocean. Crisp clean air filling his lungs he chose down time. Going back indoors he sat at a circular dining table with his journal and as every day wrote what was on his mind. After getting a good look at the island home Harbinger Shoals he opted to design rooms in his mind, then simple drawings on the blank pages in the back of the book. From there he jotted down a list of needed items to fix and complement its refurbishing, that is what he was aware of. This was going to be a big project, hiring locals seemed smart but at the same time he preferred his privacy. Letting too many people know his business and how he lived would not serve him well.
"Six!" He decided upon. "I'll hire six professional carpenters, no more. They do it all or I finish it myself." That decided he began making small sketches into a secondary art pad for interpretations of each individual room. "I'll need an electrician too. Someone who knows more than just wiring." That meant a seventh employee. "Guess I start getting recommendations from locals." That could wait until he was certain his offer would be accepted. Being vacant so long he was pretty certain the bank wanted to unload the burden. Yet, it was prime real estate with the ocean behind the property. Even he was shocked it was going unnoticed. Perfect in his mind. Their loss his Empire.
Drawn back to his journals over abundant pages and the BDSM drawings within, he paused upon a number of designs for torture and submission. Fascinated by the visuals he had sketched from photographs he had seen in both magazines, videos, and finally in person. Having tracked down a club in New York specializing in the darker side of human slavery, the respect he sought was tantalizing. He however wanted to be his own Lord of the Manor...his way. This move in his mind was only the beginning.
"Midnight!" It was just a word. A point in time. When it was right. When...she was right. Perhaps!
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"1.8 million?" Banker Lowell Hardwick sat back facing Matilda and Sheldon Cooper within the local branch of Santee Federal, a small outlet that rarely did more than cash checks and finance car loans. Home loans were not their specialty but what few they had in foreclosure kept them in business small scale. "That's a heck of a drop in what it's worth Tilly."
"How long do you plan on sitting on that property Lowell?" Sheldon cut in on his wife then apologized with a hand gesture.
"What he said." She scowled. "Unload it while you can Lowell. You need the money as much as we do. If Mister Sanchez thinks he can rescue that dump let him try. This is a cash sale, not a loan. How often does that kind of offer come along here in Caretaker? That chunk of change can tide us all over for six months. I don't know about you, but I could use a vacation."
"You're right Tilly. Should we at least counteroffer at 2 mil?"
"Take it or leave it said." Tilly posed her palm defensively. "We're talking about a man that killed a six-foot coral snake with a machete. Do you truly believe he won't walk away?"
"He really did that?" Sheldon looked shocked.
"Threw it on the hood of his vehicle and drove me back to the diner where we met. I should have taken a picture, but I was just happy to see friendly faces. The man is...dark."
"Dark?"
"A soldier he said. A pilot as well."
"Wonderful we have us a disgruntled vet for a neighbor." Sheldon scowled folding his hands over his portly belly.
"A very rich disgruntled vet it appears." Lowell sighed, "Do you feel he's a threat to the community Tilly?"
Mulling it over she shrugs, "He appears respectful, and he did mention hiring locals to restore the place, which helps our economy. Obviously, he has to purchase lumber, and other building needs. I say take the 1.8 and cross our fingers."
"Alright! Have him bring me a check I'll dust off the deed. He can have that hellhole."
"I'll call him from our car. Thank you, Lowell."
"Tell him to leave the snake outside the bank."
"What? No thank you gift?" She smirked.
"I'll give him a toaster if he opens a checking account."
"I'm sure he will love the gesture." Tilly and her husband got up and shook Lowell's hand before leaving the bank. Getting into Sheldon's restored 1967 Corvette Stingray convertible Sheldon looks to his wife grinning at their financial gain.
"Is this where I say Bazinga?"
"Don't start Sheldon." She had to giggle.
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