Chapter 2

Peter wondered what Ted knew as a worried look crossed his face.

"Well, at least my clients are respectable and do the right thing," Ted continued to laugh before changing the subject. His eyes peered through his steel-rimmed glasses and his teenage face twisted into a smile as he forgot Peter's story and looked at his broken suit where ashes had fallen from his pipe. ta. Smiling, he continued.

"You know the only problem is you, Peter. You are my biggest problem. You send me dirty work. You can't afford a pen now, or you don't care about me, try. decipher that scribble of yours between grease and paint? The account you sent me this week has been painted red. Are you trying to show me what colors would look good on Sunday? "

" You do nothing but complain? Peter looked annoyed but slowly moved around them to stand where he could look at the young woman without being seen. “I am the only honest worker here. If it weren't for me, you'd both starve to death."

This started the next argument, but Peter kept his eyes on the room. He knew the girls with Jennifer were secretaries in Bob's company, but Jennifer stood aside. He could easily believe she was a lawyer.

There was something intangibly different about her. Perhaps her laughter was not so shrill or her gaiety so forced. Maybe it was the arrogant way that she held her head or the way she leant forward to sip her drink. Her clothing was certainly different. She's not there to impress or catch the eye of men. Her skirt is not short and her cleavage is not so bold that anything is possible.

No wonder Bob finds her cold. She was different and whatever made her stand out, Peter knew he had to meet her.

He noticed that no man approached the three women to ask to dance and he wondered why. Perhaps it was Jennifer's bearing and the fact she was looking uncomfortable in such surroundings.

"Hey. Have you gone to sleep? Ted asked you a question." Bob recalled him into the conversation.

"I'm sorry, Ted. What are you saying Peter didn't listen. His mind was all over the room.

"What time will we pick you up and the car on Sunday?" Practice starts at eight and Bob will need every minute possible with the car before the first race. Ted's patient tone was warm. He knew what had caught Peter's attention. He has almost fatherly care for Peter despite their very close age.

Bob turned to look at the girls.

"Look, you won't get anything for your efforts from her." He tried his best to warn Peter, but Peter didn't listen.

"Oh, for God's sake, pull yourselves together." Ted tried to help. "If only I could see your face, Peter." He patted his pipe in the ashtray and Peter knew it would be his last night. "Bob and I are off to the trots. What about grabbing a quick bite of Chinese and coming with us? I was given three red hot tips that are certainties."

Peter knew Ted was interested in gambling and had money to spare. Bob always went with him but Peter doubted if either made a fortune. He didn't gamble himself all his gambling had been with people's lives in the first sixteen years of his life and he had not been successful then. He had no intention of playing anymore, and until tonight he was always looking for excuses not to join them. "I don't think we knew anything about him until he met this girl." Bob intervenes. "Come on you two, get your glasses and we'll join in." His broad shoulders pushed them through the crowd.

"At least they're my company, so we're not going to be too rude. Besides, you both look too respectable tonight for them to recognize the thugs I know. Ted, tie, try to control yourself and don't put the numbers on us." Looking up at the girls, he licked his lips in anticipation. "The numbers we had in mind tonight are not in your books."

If they heard his words or saw his expression, the girls would run away and scream.

"However, all may not be lost. I would rather have their company than two freeloaders." Turning to Peter, he ordered, "Get that lustful look out of my eyes and stop using bad language."

“The blonde is Karen. I heard she's a good athlete, so she's mine. I don't intend to be cold in bed tonight. Peter wants Jennifer...though only God knows why. Therefore, you, Ted, will escort Ruth.

“Don't say I didn't warn you, Peter. I bet you dinner and just show you you can't get far with that little ice cube. "

Peter stood taller than Bob in response to growling." Come on... they won't eat you. Bob threw the words over his shoulder as he continued on his way.

Peter reluctantly followed, hoping his friends wouldn't embarrass him. In a way, he knew this meeting would be important.

Across the room, Jennifer was still angry. Men call me Ice Maiden, and worse than that. It almost scared me to date again. Just because men take a girl to a show or to a dinner party, they think they should get paid. Why do I have to go to bed with a complete stranger? Jennifer stopped her thoughts. Often they don't even provide a bed. Instead, it's the discomfort of a clumsy car, materialism, brute force, and selfish lust.

She is angry, but at the same time, she feels lonely. Dating Karen and Ruth is an experience of making friends in a new city. She knows she has to meet new people and it's only by socializing that she has a chance to meet someone likable.

Jennifer wants a man to love and be loved and appreciated in return. That's the difference. It certainly doesn't mean fighting or struggling and dodging demands to pay for a night out with your body. "If men think I'm shy, they're right, no matter what alternative names they come up with."

"Do you mind if we join you?" Bob leaned toward Karen, placing his hand on her shoulder in a possessive gesture. "I'd rather have your dear company than have to listen to these thugs' complaints about their rough week."

Peter knows how lucky he is that Bob has taken this first approach, as he is aware that his own words will not flow so easily. Instead, he would stammer and stammer like an idiot. Overwhelmed by his childhood traumas, his psychology degree won't help him cope with society.

Unnoticed by Jennifer, Bob and his two teammates reached their table and Peter had all the hatred in his mind by now. Looking up defiantly, she found herself staring into two piercing blue eyes, the same blue eyes watching her across the room. The mistress was hovering in the chair and someone was talking.

It was obvious that he thought she was staring at him. His beautiful rough face flushed red and he began to apologize for interrupting her night.

"That's polite," was Jennifer's response. 'It's different. How can I explain that I'm not mad at him? She stood up to reassure him, but it looked like she was about to leave.

Surprised, Peter begs her to stay.

"I'm sorry if we broke up with your fun group."

Jennifer was the only one who seemed unhappy with their interruption.

"Let us know if we infiltrate and we'll go."

"You just said you weren't in a hurry, Jennifer." Karen rang. "You were fine with it." Turning to Bob, she leaned against him, touching him in a blatant welcome gesture. "We were all free tonight and thought we could go and see the paintings." She rested her head on Bob's shoulder and her long red nails looked like claws as they curled back to prevent his departure. "Where's your manners, Bob? Please introduce two of your friends to Jennifer."

"I'm sorry, Jennifer. That big rude bear is the wild Irishman Peter O'Brien."

He turned his head and chuckled at Peter's torture.

Peter's blushing embarrassment only brought more hilarity to everyone except Jennifer, who blankly looked over at Peter.

"Don't let him lead you into dark corners or hold your fragile hands." Bob's face emphasized the lust in his voice and Peter could have strangled him with pleasure.

Jennifer realizes that she now knows who was studying her in the room. Those eyes belong to Peter.

Bob's poor attempt at humor failed to impress her and Karen, and seeing that look on Bob's face no doubt sharpened his claws. Ignoring the reactions, Bob bluntly continued, "The other criminal is Ted."

Jennifer studies men.

Ted, a glasses-wearing, glasses-wearing young man with lewd eyes, high-pitched laughter and expensive, fancy suit, elf Ruth as he pulled a chair closer to her and brought his hand to his lips. aunt.

"What would you like to drink, honey?"

Ruth giggled, commanding with supposed modesty. She wasn't a fool, but she played along.

Bob is tall, black and handsome and he knows it. Fully aware of its allure, he flaunted it. Even her voice was seductive and her movements a studied daring, but her gaze betrayed him. They were cold and calculating despite the smile on his face and the hand he rested on Karen's shoulder openly affirming it.

Jennifer knew him from the office and repeatedly turned down his offers. His cultivated attractiveness and learned manners with women are not attractive in any way.

"What are you going to drink, Jennifer," he asked, like everyone else?

"No, I'll have a glass of tomato juice, please."

"Do you want some tomato juice?" Bob's voice dripped with mockery. "That is all?"

"With lemons." was Jennifer's sweet reply when she thought she was going to fix it.

"Don't pay attention," is Peter's comment. “He was just trying to be funny.

“How do you like Sydney? I guess you are alone now. Bob told me you had just arrived from Melbourne. He hesitated, then paused, bewildered when he realized he had unintentionally revealed that she had become the talk of the bar at the bar.

Actually, Jennifer assumed he asked about it. Giving him her full attention, she was suspicious of what he had discovered. She had noticed that Peter had a nice, pleasant face, not too handsome but certainly not ugly. Although his dark brown hair is rather short, a lock of it falls partially on his forehead, and when he pushes it back with his hands, he exhibits a defensive and curious masculine attitude. His eyes were two blue gems, sparkling, sparkling and changing. They are very alert, almost too bright and observant. Jennifer wondered if he had noticed that the girls had ordered drinks that were more expensive and sophisticated than they had been before. She sat quietly, adding a little chatter, not noticing that beside her was Peter breathing in her delicate scent, lounging in the warmth of his presence.

When he saw her coming, her long legs, swaying hips and beauty attracted him, but he didn't expect her approach to be affected. Now her delicate scent prompted her to taste it. His fingers tingled as he fought the idea of ​​touching her skin.

"I find the speed completely different and the distance inside the city is huge." Her answer pulled him out of his train of thought.

Suddenly Peter peered into two emerald eyes of the deepest shade possible.

"I'd be happy to get a new car. It'll make commuting easier."

She certainly doesn't have to be the average worker to afford a new car and move away from home, and Peter almost falls into the trap of asking her story so crudely. The stare of those green eyes filled him with anxiety and the deathly silence that followed as he desperately tried to continue.

Finally, he broke the silence between them. “There is so much Sydney to explore. I have lived here for several years and still find myself a new corner every day.

Suddenly an explosion of noise and movement descended upon them. There, in a rowdy bar in Sydney, the most extraordinary spectacle was about to unfold.

Screaming and laughing, two slim, beautiful young women who clearly recognized Peter pulled him out of his seat and asked him to dance with them. He was doing his job at Westmead Children's Hospital a few weeks before last Christmas caught up with him. It took months of constant rehearsals to complete the Christmas party and keep the kids and hospital staff entertained. The children especially appreciated his presence as Santa and the gifts he gave them. When Peter tried to resist, one of the young women rushed off the dance floor to let the group arrange the music and then returned. Then the two tied hands with him in the usual ballet fashion. As the opening bars of Dance of the Little Swans silenced the crowd, the three of them stood in a statue-like line, waist to waist, heads held high and eyes fixed on the same ethereal spot somewhere overhead. of the people in the bar. Two thin and thin women almost to Peter's shoulders stood with this tall, strong Irish bear of a man.

The whole guild is mesmerized. They couldn't believe their eyes.

There was silence as the three danced, weaving their magic over the Friday night crowd, their step by step, so graceful and so familiar with each other as they walked and swayed as one. Then, Jennifer gasped as Peter's arms wrapped around the waists of the two ballets, and he lifted them off the ground, while their six legs remained at the same speed and their heads moved as one.

The music stopped and the applause was deafening. However, it's not over yet. One of the ballet dancers broke away from the trio to perform an isolated pirouette, then turned back to Peter, who toss her high, before grabbing her with one hand above her head as it lazily rotates as the sound hits the music plays on repeat.

Jennifer could hardly believe what she had seen in such a place. She would never believe that Peter was a ballet dancer.

A gruff voice filled the dance floor, destroying the magic of the moment.

"Look at that damn weird guy!" He does not know how to use women? Crawling in a hole somewhere, damn t-shirt guy. This place is for men.

Ted's sharp, quick comment caught Jennifer's attention.

“Oh, damn it! Now there's the problem.

. He nodded, and an ugly bully exploded on the ground. With his fists and face red, the thug shouted curses, attacking Pierre without warning.

As the crowd retreated from the stage, screams of women and thundering footsteps broke the silence in the bar. Yet despite the commotion and movement, Jennifer was sure she heard Peter's calm words to the security guards ringing around the room.

"He's mine, call an ambulance."

She gasped and witnessed a brief outstretched hand as Peter tossed the tall man into the air and backed away as he fell to the ground with a horrible sob. The thug screamed as one of his legs seemed to break under him.

Two other burly men, apparently his friends, exploded to the ground, and Jennifer was horrified to see the knives glittering in the light as they surrounded Peter. She heard more screams but couldn't believe her ears when she heard Peter's laughter as he advised them.

"Didn't your mother tell you? Boys shouldn't play with knives. You'll hurt yourself."

He was ready for them.

First, one of them fell to the ground so as not to get up, then the second, until all three of them went crazy. Security removed their bodies and Jennifer was still shaking as she felt the softest hand on her elbow helping her to her feet and a calm voice speaking to her.

"How about doing a dance to calm us down?"

Almost in a trance, she found herself in the arms of this strange and powerful man, suspended above the ground to the music as he gently led her through the crowd. Too soon, it was over and she found herself at his table again.

"Thank you, Jennifer. I appreciate that you are an excellent dancer." Peter leaned forward as he helped her sit up.

The noise in the bar continued as if it had been uninterrupted, even though Jennifer had a thousand questions to ask Peter. This man who had destroyed the gangsters was so gentle, so considerate, and his soft voice towards her only made her think that this man was so different from anyone she had ever met. He is dangerous but as careful as he is with her, the more he is different and caring.

They sat down, and Peter was continuing their conversation when loud Bob arrived