Jersey Six - Jewel E Ann Page 0,17
just since he bought me lunch and offered me a job.”
Max stopped without warning, sending Jersey into her back.
“Sorry.” Jersey stepped back, and Max turned.
“Name one Ian Cooper song.”
Jersey curled her lips between her teeth.
Max coughed on her reply. “You … you’ve never listened to his music?”
Jersey shook her head. Maybe she had heard his music. The guys at the gym played a lot of music, but she didn’t know artists, pop culture, current events, or anything that didn’t involve boxing or the means to get a meal.
“Have you even heard of him before today?”
Another headshake.
Max curled her black and gray hair behind her ear. “Ian … Ian … Ian …” She shook her head a half dozen times before turning toward a door. Next to the door was a white sheet of paper with Ian Cooper printed on it.
“How old are you?” Jersey asked.
Max glanced back over her shoulder. “Why?”
Jersey shrugged. “Just curious. Your skin looks young, but your hair looks old.”
On a chuckle, Max’s penciled eyebrows slid up her forehead. “Old hair, huh? Well, thanks for the skin compliment. I’m fifty-one. But I don’t feel a day over thirty.” She winked just before knocking twice and opening the door. “Heads up, gentlemen.”
The doorway opened to a spacious room, double the size of the hotel room, which wasn’t tiny in Jersey’s eyes. It was filled with sofas, chairs, lit vanities, a television, several tables covered with food and beverages, and three men all close to Ian’s age—maybe late twenties/early thirties.
Two men sat on a sofa, playing video games. They gave Jersey and Max a quick “hey” without actually tearing their attention from the battle playing out on the T.V. screen. A blond guy with wavy shoulder-length hair glanced up from the edge of his chair where he sat strumming a few chords on a guitar.
“Thanks, Max.”
Jersey’s attention shifted to Ian’s voice from the opposite side of the room where his long jeans and T-shirt-clad body engulfed a sofa as he slid off a pair of neon blue, wireless headphones. When Jersey turned back toward Max, the door was already shut with no Max in sight. The blond guy playing guitar gave Jersey a smile and polite nod as she tightened her hold on the bag and inched her way to Ian’s side of the room.
Ian sat up, stretching his arms above his head on a big yawn. Jersey remembered a guy who came into Marley’s Gym several years earlier: Racer. Ian’s body resembled his—tall, lean, and intricately cut to perfection. Racer treated his body like a million-dollar performance machine. And he was the first person to knock Jersey out in less than two minutes. He made her stronger, made her work harder and fight smarter. Then someone took him out with a single gunshot to the head on his way out of the gym on a Friday night.
Jersey remembered it was a Friday because Dena and Charles died on a Friday.
“Jersey.” Ian smiled at her like he did earlier that day. Not a you-look-better smile like the one Max gave her at the hotel, just a nice-to-see-you-again smile as if he wasn’t seeing her in a different light. No night and day.
She smiled back at him, not because she wanted to, just because she couldn’t help herself.
The grin on his face doubled. “Would you like something to eat or drink?” He nodded toward the tables of food and beverages behind her.
“We ate at the hotel.” Her lips twisted to the side. “Mind if I stick some stuff in my bag for later?”
A tiny wrinkle formed between Ian’s eyes, just below the long sweep of his black bangs. “There will be lots of food available later too. But…” he shrugged, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees “…take whatever you want.”
Jersey glanced over her shoulder at the food and the three other men in the room. She decided to wait a little while before shoving as much as possible into her bag like a free-for-all. “Thanks.” Jersey returned her attention to Ian. “So … you’re a singer. Like … are you a big deal?”
Every word she spoke seemed to feed his level of happiness. “Well …” He rubbed his chin, twisting his lips. “We play music. People like to listen to our music. But no … it’s not a big deal. We’re not saving lives or anything like that.”
She eyed him with suspicion for a few seconds. That smile of his didn’t feel worthy of complete trust. “Um