From One Jacket To Another

Victoria swept her long dark hair over her shoulder, her gaze glossing over the length of the room before finally settling on her reflection in the brassy mirror behind the bar. From her seat, she had clear sights on her mark; six feet, blond hair, dark grey suit that undoubtedly costed more than a mortgage. The distorted image in the mirror showed he was making quick progress with his third whiskey sour of the night. Meanwhile, was making quick progress of her third glass of water in a cocktail cup of the night. It was almost showtime.

               She watched his reflection in the mirror make a motion to stand. He made a show of holding his glass up for a toast with a group of similarly dressed men. They joined him in raising their glasses in clear agreement with whatever hogwash he was spouting. In unison, they clinked glasses and drained its contents. Her blond man of the hour made a gesture toward the restroom. Victoria followed suit. She uncrossed her legs and slid off the bar stool with practiced motion and began sauntering over in his general direction. The countdown began in her head. Five. Four. Three. Two.

               Her shoulder collided perfectly into his turned body. Instinctively, he reached out with both hands to steady her body, firmly grasping either side of her upper arm. Victoria leaned her body weight on him purposefully, feigning slight inebriation. Her right hand reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and found his wallet.

               “I’m so sorry!” she said with embarrassment. “I really need to watch where I’m going.”

               He gave a sloppy, intoxicated smile to her and held her at arm’s length. “Be careful out there.”

               Victoria pulled her jacket in closer to her, slipping the wallet into the inner folds of her own pockets and nodded at his remark. She patted his arm and offered him a ‘thank you’. Her hands slid down the length of his arm and landed on his watch. With a slight click of the inner clasp, the watch slid off with ease. Once securely in her palm, she gave him another appreciative nod before continuing on her route towards the exit.

               The bouncer seated at the door gave her a polite nod. She returned the nod, bracing herself against the bite of cold air. The winter night greeted her with austerity. She slipped the watch into her pocket before mechanically pulling the folds of her dark denim jacket closer around her body. The sound of her boots echoed down the street. It was still early on a Friday night. The streets of downtown were littered with people looking for a place to unwind from the week. She mentally turned over her options for the night. Depending on how much was in the wallet, she might not have to go to any other locations.

               “Did you really have to take his watch too?” a voice behind her broke the spell, the reality around her quivering the slightest bit. Her footsteps ceased. Of all nights for him to show up, he chooses tonight.

               Without turning around, she answered by way of explanation, “It’s a Rolex. That’s an easy $10,000.”

               “You know you don’t need to be doing this anymore, Vic” the voice and footsteps behind her grew closer. She kept her hands jammed in her pockets; face pointed directly ahead. She briefly debated on bolting but quickly abandoned the thought when she thought back on her footwear. Besides, she knew he could easily outrun her. The only option she had was to treat him like the rest of her problems. If she ignored him enough, maybe he’ll disappear.

               He came to stand directly in front of her in his full height. He stood over a head taller than her, an aspect she always found to be most annoying. She hated being talked down to, even if it were purely by circumstance. His hands were shoved into his own pockets of his cognac leather jacket. His eyes examined her quickly up and down before he continued.

               “What are you doing out here, Vic?” his eyes established on the pockets of her jacket, eyes boring through the fabric and settling on her contraband. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and lifted her eyes to meet his.

               Just like times before, the sight of him always made her knees forget their primary task. It was difficult to forget how handsome he was. His eyes were dark as the night sky, framed by a curtain of thick lashes. His jawline had been left unshaven for a few days. Even in his most effortless moments, there was something very distinguished about him. Gathering her wits, she mustered a steady, “It’s none of your business Vince.”

               “Judging by your appearance you don’t need to be picking pockets anymore” he took a small step closer. With the distance closing, the smell of his cologne drifted into her nose; the unmistakable mix of citrus and cedar.

               She answered with an equal step backward. “Judging by my appearance?”

               Victoria shifted her eyes momentarily to either side of him. Was there an opening for her to shift around him? She mentally calculated her chances of escape. At the moment, the best she could do was engage in a very unwanted conversation. She needed better options.

               “You look good, Vic”

               The better option presented itself to her. She scoffed and rolled her eyes, using her reaction to his remark to leave. She maneuvered around his body and began walking. Her victory was short-lived when he fell into step beside her.

               “Did I say something wrong?” he asked, the unmistakable jovialness in his voice. He always enjoyed riling her up.

               Her steps quickened. “Get lost, Vince.”

               His pace increased to match hers, with little effort. “After you give me that man’s wallet.”

               “If I don’t need it then you definitely don’t need it.” It was her turn to return his patronizing tone. She continued to turns options over in her mind. Could she talk him into leaving her alone? She looked to her left at the speeding traffic on the street. Could she? She mentally shook her head. She couldn’t.

               “I plan to return the wallet to the kind man that dropped it on the floor of the bar” Vince answered casually. He added, “along with his watch.”

               Victoria rolled her eyes again. In addition to riling her emotions up, he consistently manages to give her eyes a continuous workout. “Since when do you walk the path of the straight and narrow?”

               “When you promised me that you would too” his footsteps came to a halt. He reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her to face him. She was everything he remembered her to be. Her hair draped down her back like a curtain of ink. Her skin was translucent and clear like alabaster. But through everything it was always her eyes that made him question his beliefs. They were the color of wet concrete; hard and unyielding. If eyes could be the color of fire, her eyes would have taken on that hue long ago. “Victoria you don’t have to do this. Come back with me.”

               “No thanks” she said flatly, moving to shrug her shoulders free of him. His grip tightened around her upper arms. “Vince, this doesn’t concern you anymore. Let me go.”

               “Are you talking about us or the wallet?” he pressed, his eyes locking onto hers. She held his gaze for a moment before dropping it down to his chest.

“Both” she answered. The option of discussing their past hadn’t even crossed her mind but truthfully, everything always came right back to them, in this same position. It was always two of them standing face to face in a stalemate. Her eyes travelled down his chest to his feet, then back up to his waist where she could see his hands moving inside his jacket pocket. The urge to join her hands in his pockets nudged at her.

“Everything about you will always concern me.”

The embrace had come just as unexpectedly as his appearance tonight; sudden, swift, yet satisfying. He pulled her into his chest, his hands holding firmly around her hips, his chin resting on the top of her head. Victoria’s hands found their way underneath his jacket and pressed against the fabric of his t-shirt against his back. The sharp scent of cedar cut through her nostrils even more intensely in this proximity. Within moments she was nineteen again, falling, jittery, and happy. Being held against him felt comfortable. Being held against him was dangerous.

“I’m sorry” he muttered into her hair. “I wish you would just come with me.”

“You know I can’t” she responded with equal volume into his chest.

“I know.”

As quickly as the embrace had come, it ended with the same measure. He retreated with a large step backwards, his hands now at his sides. Her eyes shifted from his face, down to his hands.

“Why you-”

He raised his hands up in defense. In one hand he held the wallet, in the other, the watch. “I’m doing the right thing here, Vic. You know I am.”

The fury was evident in her grey eyes. If there was a time where her eyes should have taken on the crimson of flames, it would be now. She lunged at him, reaching for the wallet in his hands. When her grip fell short, she turned her attention to the watch. Her grip fell short again. Vince began moving backwards slowly, his eyes calculating her movement. It was his anticipatory behavior that put her at a disadvantage in the first place.

This wasn’t a fight she was going to be able to win. She let her guard down and he took advantage of it. This wasn’t a battle of wits. That he already conquered. This became a battle of physicality and in this realm, he wins by a landslide. Her body stilled. She let her hands rest at her sides. Her eyes locked on his, their gaze held for a moment before she turned on her heels, and retreated without another word.

Vince watched her receding figure walk further down the street, eyes not moving off her shape until she turned the corner. He released a breath he hadn’t realize he had been holding. Next time, he knew it wouldn’t be as easy to trick her.

The walk back to the bar was a short one. With the wallet and watch securely tucked in the pocket of his jeans, he prepared a story for the Victoria’s victim. In his drunken state, Vince was sure the story of him dropping his belongings in the restroom would be easily consumable.

“I need to see your ID please” the bouncer requested, flashlight poised in his left hand, ready for examination.

Vince reached in his jacket pocket to retrieve his wallet only to find the space vacant. Did he put his wallet into another pocket? His hand felt inside the opposite slot only to experience the same emptiness. His hands moved up and down his torso, frisking his body for the familiar protuberance of his wallet. Nothing. His hands patted around his hips, finding only his phone and the belongings that were not his own.

“Step out of line, sir” the bouncer instructed, unamused by the situation at hand. Vince let out a curse before taking a few steps down the street in the direction he had come from. He knew it was fruitless. She was long gone by now, and he had let her go.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He ran his hands along the surface of his body again, hoping the usual swell of his wallet would greet him this time. It didn’t. Victoria was long gone and with his wallet as a prize, nonetheless. The plan was supposed to have been foolproof. His execution was perfect. Still, somehow, she had managed to slip in while his own guard was down. A small smile crept up on his lips.

With a slow shake of his head, he grinned inwardly to himself. His hand reached into the pocket of his jeans and fished out the unfamiliar wallet and watch. He turned his attention back toward the bar.

“Excuse me sir!” he called out to a blond man in a dark grey suit stumbling out from behind the bouncer, “I believe you dropped this earlier.”