Reconnecting the Dots

Here's the completed version of "Reconnecting the Dots". Originally, I uploaded a Part 1 on 9/12/15, but my plan was never to break it up. I just did that as a test to see if people liked my writing. When I received some amazing feedback, I decided to continue the story. But I don't have to tell you how crazy life can get, so it took a bit longer than I wanted, plus the story took on a life of its own. It ended up almost 50% longer than I anticipated. But it's finally here.

A little about me: I've been a reader on this site for close to two years now. Not too long ago I finally decided to create a profile. After a while I thought I'd like to give writing a try again. I used to love to write when I was in High School, but haven't really written anything in close to 15 years. So here's my attempt at getting back into the writing game. Whether I'll continue after this story is yet to been seen.

As for my writing, I hope it's up to par. I like plot and character driven stories. If you are, too, then you're in the right place. If not, well...I don't know what to tell you. And while this is Literotica, I find I'm drawn to stories where sex isn't the main focus. Don't get me wrong though, there are some great stroke stories on this site. So, just to let everybody know, there is no sex in this story.

Oh, and for those of you who read Part 1, I did make changes. They aren't big changes, but there are changes. You might want to start from the beginning. If not, you can pick up the story on page 3.

I hope you enjoy my return to writing.

Jake (And yes, I used my name as the main character's name)

-----

"Hey, boss."

"Morning," replied Jake.

"So when did noon become mornin'?" Garrett said, checking his watch.

Jake grinned. This was their daily ritual. Since Jake owned the place, he never came in at 10:00, when Garrett, his longtime manager, opened to let the rest of the staff in so they could start prepping for the lunch rush that started at 11:30. Jake usually waltzed in around noon and Garrett always busted his balls. Not only was Jake his boss, but he considered Garrett a dear friend. Their wives were also very close and they trusted each other like brothers.

"Did the food order come in yet?" asked Jake.

"Yeah. Truck came about an hour ago."

"Good. Did you remember to make sure the meat was good this time? Fuckers gave us meat that was ready to expire last delivery."

"It's kosher," answered Garrett with a smug grin. He'd been working for Jake for close to ten years now, first as a bartender and then manager, and had yet to forget to do something Jake had told him to do. Most of the time Garrett didn't need to be told—he just did it, and Jake knew it, yet still tried to catch him.

Jake smirked. "I'll get you one of these days, asshole. That'll wipe that smug little grin off your face."

Garrett chuckled, but then his face turned serious. "Oh, I wanted to ask you. Would you and your band play Saturday night instead of Friday night? Cause Benny Rodriguez and his car club want to have their monthly get together here on Friday night."

That made Jake's eyebrows raise. "But don't they usually hold it at Stibbins?" he asked, naming another bar and grill in town.

"They do. But apparently they want a change, and when he asked, I couldn't turn him down. It's good business. Those guys like to drink, man."

They sure did,

Jake thought to himself. He'd been trying to get Benny's car club to come to his place for years, but they always turned him down. And now...

"Wait!" said Jake. "You booked them already. So why ask me if it was OK?" He already knew the answer to his question, but this was part of the game they played, so he waited for Garrett to answer.

Garrett chuckled and was about to answer when he was interrupted by one of the servers coming over to ask one of the million questions he had to answer on a daily basis. Most of the time the questions were ridiculous, like "what's in a martini?", but as anybody who has ever worked in the food service world knows: there are no stupid questions.

Jake chuckled to himself and let Garrett get back to work.

As the owner of The Bacon Bar and Grill, Jake didn't usually deal with the day-to-day operations. Garrett, and his other manager Karen, were more than capable. His role was more of a supervisory one. He was the captain of the ship and made sure everybody, including Garrett and Karen, did his or her job correctly. Oh, and to play music. That was one of the perks of owning your own bar and grill. His band always had a place to play.

Jake looked around his bar and took in everything with a practiced eye. The lunch rush was in full swing and the room was packed. It wasn't a huge place—a fourteen seat bar and twenty-five tables—but it was all his. Watching his staff move like a well-oiled machine made his chest swell with pride. It took him many years to get where he was. He was happy. He owned his own business, was married to the love of his life, and had two kids—well step kids—that he adored. Life couldn't be any better. That wasn't always the case, though.

"Yo Jake!" somebody yelled from across the room, snapping him from his reverie.

Jake turned his head to see Casper Jones, the drummer of his band, sitting at a table with a few of his work buddies. He turned and walked across the room towards Casper, but halfway through, he glanced to his immediate right and made eye contact with a girl, maybe eighteen or nineteen, who was sitting alone. A sense of Deja vu washed over him and he paused for a brief second, holding eye contact with her. But just as quick as it came, the feeling disappeared. Shaking his head, Jake broke eye contact, and continued on to the impatient Casper.

"What the fuck, man? What's this bullshit with movin' the gig to Saturday?" asked Casper.

A few people at the surrounding tables turned towards the outburst but continued on with their business a few seconds later.

Jake shook his head and chuckled. Casper was the wild one of the band. The only guy still unmarried and probably never would. A different girl on his arm every night of the week was the norm, yet he was a kick ass drummer, was a fun to be around, and was loyal to his friends.

"Garrett already told you, didn't he," Jake said. It was a statement, not a question.

"Yeah. What gives, man?"

Jake chuckled. "What? Screw up your pussy schedule for the week?"

Casper took on a shocked expression for a moment, then burst out laughing. Jake and the rest of the guys at the table joined in.

"Can't get nothin' by you, Jake," said Casper.

"You're one predictable mother fucker, Casper. We all know the only reason you're in the band is for the pussy." That sent the entire table into even greater hysterics.

"Well, who can blame me," added Casper. "Chicks love drummers. But by changin' to Saturday, you're screwin' up my game, man. I'm gonna have to drop the honey I was supposed to be with that night."

"Why?" asked Shawn, one of Casper's work buddies.

"What do you mean why?" Casper had an incredulous look on his face. After looking around the table to see nobody had any idea why, he said, "The chick I was supposed to be with on Friday night told me she would blow me in my van before the gig. And now she won't be able to."

That sent everyone at the table, except Casper, into hysterics for the third time. Casper's expression stayed the same.

"So why can't she come on Saturday night?" asked Shawn through his mirth.

"Yeah, Casper," prodded Jake, knowing Casper's answer was going to be one for the ages. "It seems pretty simple to me. Just have them switch nights."

"Because Cindy, my Friday night girl—"

"Ms. Blow Job?" asked Shawn.

"Yeah," answered Casper, ignoring the renewed laughter at the table. "Cindy said she'd only blow me before I play because I'll be too sweaty afterwards."

Out of all the answers they expected, that one was the furthest from anybody's mind. Hell, it wasn't even on some of their minds. And what made it the most shocking of all was the seriousness in which Casper said it.

Nobody made a peep for a few seconds, until all hell broke loose. Shawn fell over onto the floor, his other buddy, Carl, toppled over gasping for breath, and Jake stumbled backwards, bumping into the table behind him, causing the guy seated there to spill his drink. Jake was laughing so hard he was unable to speak and do damage control, however, the ever reliable Garrett was there within moments fanning the flames while the bus boy cleaned up. Once Jake got control of his laughter, he apologized to the man and offered to comp his meal, which thankfully soothed his ruffled feathers.

Jake returned his attention back to the table as Shawn said, "Casper, what the hell does that have to do with anything? You're not making any sense."

Jake chuckled to himself. That was exactly the same question he was going to ask.

"How am I not makin' sense?" Casper asked with a confused look on his face.

"What I think Shawn here is getting at, Casper, is you should invite this Cindy girl to the gig on Saturday night, while getting your Saturday night girl to hang out on Friday," concluded Carl. He sounded like a father explaining something complicated to his son.

Casper thought for a moment, then smiled. "Oh. That could work."

Jake shook his head. "All right fellas, I have to get back to work." And then in a mock serious tone, he asked, "Do me a favor Shawn and Carl?"

"Sure," replied Shawn, while Carl nodded.

"Make sure Casper boy over here knows that today's Wednesday, and that Saturday is three days from now, not two." He turned and walked away.

From over his shoulder he heard Shawn and Carl's laughter start up again, as Casper said, "I know the days of the week, asshole."

Jake chuckled to himself. As he walked back to the kitchen, he couldn't help but think how much he liked Casper. The guy only had one thing on his mind, but damn he was entertaining.

-----

As the lunch rush eventually died down, Jake found himself seated at an empty table going over the dreaded books. He was trying to find a way to lower the cost on a few of the more expensive items, when he got the funny feeling he was being watched. He looked up, and still seated at the same table, was the same girl. She was looking directly at him and when their eyes met, he got hit with another strong wave of Deja vu. He found it odd that this same girl had been sitting at the same table for almost two hours. And why was she looking at him like that? And why did she seem so familiar? This was the second time he made eye contact with her and was overwhelmed with a sense of Deja vu. But just like before, the sensation quickly went away.

He decided to get to the bottom of this. He took in her appearance. It was tough to judge with her sitting down, but she looked to be around 5'7" to 5'8" with straight, shoulder length brown hair, which was a bit messy at the moment; brown eyes with olive skin; a little on the skinnier side, but not skeletal. She had on a white tee-shirt and a pair of jeans that looked in need of washing. Otherwise, she was quite attractive for a girl of eighteen or nineteen—if you were into that type of thing. At thirty-eight, he definitely wasn't. After looking at her for a few seconds longer, he looked back down at the table not seeing the books lying in front of him. He searched the furthest reaches of his mind to see if he could remember who this girl was. He could have sworn he'd seen her before.

"Boss."

"Huh." Jake snapped out of his reverie. He looked up to see Garrett standing there with the printouts of the daily sales. Most food establishment owners usually waited until the end of the day to check on their totals, but Jake liked to do it multiple times a day. It was a good barometer to see how they were doing as a business and if things needed to change.

"Looks like we did better than expected. We're up about ten percent from what we projected," Garrett stated proudly. Since he was the day manager, when business did well during lunch, it reflected well on him. Same for Karen if the dinner numbers were up, too. However, Jake learned long ago, that if the numbers were down, it was all his fault. Funny how that works.

"Good," Jake replied a bit distractedly as he glanced over at the girl again.

"So, when do I get my raise?" asked Garrett.

Jake knew that would be Garrett's response. It always was when the numbers were up. He refocused his attention back to Garrett. That smug grin back on his face.

Jake grinned in return. "So, what you're saying is that when the numbers go up, you should get a raise? Is that right?"

"Well, yeah."

"OK, so if that's the case, then when the numbers are down, do I get to dock your pay?"

"Nope. You know it doesn't work like that."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"Double standards, boss. Didn't you know that?"

Jake tried keeping a straight face, but failed, causing them to burst into laughter. They both knew Jake payed Garrett extremely well and this was just part of their ongoing game.

Once their laughter died down, Jake said, "Seriously, though. That's great news. And I was just going through the books"—he pointed at the papers in front of him—"and our profit margins have improved on a bunch of items. Our food cost is also back where it should be. But there's always room for improvement."

Garrett sat down, grabbed the papers in front of Jake, and started perusing them himself. "Yeah. I see what you mean." Then he pointed to another column of figures. "It also looks like our over pourin' problem's been solved."

"Yeah, and don't you dare take credit for that. That's all Karen's doing."

Garret chuckled. "What me? Take credit for someone else's work. Never."

Jake grinned. "All right, smart ass. Is the kitchen starting prep for dinner?"

"No, they're having a good ole fashion circle jerk back there."

"Good. Then you can go join them. Now get the hell out of here before I give you some real work to do."

A grinning Garrett stood up and went about his business as Jake's attention went back to the mystery girl. This time when he looked at her, she wasn't looking back. This gave him an opportunity to study her more closely without it becoming too awkward. She definitely looked familiar. Why couldn't he place her?

Suddenly, she looked up and caught him staring. When their eyes met, Jake could see the nervousness in them. That was strange. Jake didn't know what to make of it. A few more seconds passed and he made a decision. He was going to go talk to her.

He stood up and headed in her direction. Their eyes were still locked, and when she finally came to the realization he was coming over, her nervousness turned into sheer terror, startling Jake for a moment. He didn't want to intimidate the girl. Yes, he was a pretty big guy at 6'2" and 220 pounds, and had a few tattoos, but he had a kind face and gentle demeanor. But he was resigned to finally put this mystery to rest, so he continued on.

"Excuse me, young lady," Jake said politely, once he reached her table. "Do you mind if I join you?"

She didn't say anything at first. It seemed like she wanted to say something but couldn't get the words out. After a few awkward moments, she nodded slightly.

"Thanks," he said, sitting down. "I'm Jake by the way. What's your name?"

She just stared right at him, and once again, he could tell she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. After another few awkward moments, Jake came to the realization that if he wanted to get any answers out of this girl, he'd have to lead the entire conversation. Since she hadn't answered him yet, and it didn't seem like she would, he carried on trying to solve this mystery.

"Are you from around here?" he asked.

She hesitated for the moment, then shook her head.

OK, not from around here.

He'd have to dig a bit deeper.

"Do I know your parents?"

This question seemed to shock her, because her eyes bulged and her bottom lip trembled, which caused Jake to immediately back off. She was obviously sensitive about the subject of her parents. Time to change tactics.

With a sincere smile, he said, "Listen, I'm sorry if I upset you. That wasn't my intention. Have you eaten? I haven't and was wondering if you would join me for lunch?"

Once again, refusing to answer with words, she gave a slight nod.

Jake gave her a reassuring smile in return, then turned and called Sophie over.

"What's up, boss?" the redheaded server asked.

"Me and my friend are hungry. Do me a favor and order me the buffalo chicken bacon sandwich; hold the fries. And my friend here would like...?" He looked expectantly at the girl.

He did this for two reasons: the obvious was to get her order, but the other less obvious reason was to get her to talk. He was starting to think she was a mute.

"Um..." she hesitantly answered after a few moments, "I'll have a burger if that's OK?"

Well at least I know she's not a mute.

"How about the bacon cheese burger?" Sophie suggested. "It's amazing. Ask Boss Man over here." She indicated Jake with a nod of her head.

Jake chuckled. "It is. There's a reason why this place is called the Bacon Bar and Grill. Everything has bacon on it or in it. And if I say so myself, our bacon is the best around."

Jake's mirth caused Sophie to laugh, and for the first time the girl cracked something that resembled a smirk, which made him pause for a second. There was something about that smirk. Where had he seen it before?

"OK, I'll have that," the girl concluded.

"Anything to drink?" asked Sophie.

Jake looked over at the girl indicating she should go first this time. He really wanted to get her out of her shell and get to the bottom of this mystery.

She glanced his way with a questioning look, until she realized he was waiting for her to order first. She appeared shocked for a moment, but then her expression changed. That smirk was back, but bigger this time, as if to say she knew what he was doing. She was onto his game. That caused him to chuckle which she returned in kind.

And then it hit him. That chuckle. He'd heard that chuckle a thousand times before, but many years ago. But it wasn't the chuckle of this girl sitting in front of him. It was the chuckle of his bitch of an ex-wife who fucked his life up so completely he almost didn't recover.

He looked into the girl's eyes, eyes so very much like his own, and then realized who was sitting in front of him. His heart started beating rapidly; his face flushed; his hands got clammy; tears formed in his eyes.

It can't be, it can't be,

kept repeating over and over in his head.

He didn't know how long he sat there, but it was Sophie who snapped him out of his reverie. "You OK, boss? It looks like you've just seen a ghost."

He broke eye contact with the girl and looked at Sophie. Voice cracking, he said, "Give us a moment, please."

She gave a quick nod and hurried off with a look of concern on her face.

Jake shifted his attention back to the girl, and when their tear filled eyes met again, he saw that she knew he had figured it out. He cleared his throat. "Ash...Ashley. I...Is that you?"

She nodded her head. She was trying to hold back her tears, but the dam eventually broke, and they came pouring down her cheeks.

Jake was in shock. He too failed to keep his tears in check. They flowed freely at that moment, but he didn't care. He was actually in the presence of Ashley, his little girl. No, not little girl anymore, young woman, but now that he knew who she was, he could see hints of the little girl who'd been stolen from him when she was only three years old. He couldn't believe it. He had so much to say. He dreamed of this moment for years, and rehearsed this conversation in his head a million times, but now that it was here, he was speechless. But he knew he had to say something.