Valentine’s Day

The Emerald was packed. Luke had had the foresight to make reservations so he and Jen had a small table in the back. Granted, there were a lot of small tables in the back at this point, and he could’ve reached out in either direction and taken a drink off the adjoining tables, but the ambience was unmistakable. On stage the modern rock-jazz sounds of Blended Neon oozed out over the crowd. They were a mix of Steely Dan and Chicago, and both he and Jen had enjoyed the evening’s entertainment thus far. They sat next to each other, crammed between every other couple around them, holding hands, laughing, sipping at their cocktails, and in every way acting like two young people in the early stages of love.

The music died and everyone applauded. Jen leaned in and gave him a long kiss.

“That’s for a wonderful evening,” she said when she finally broke it off.

“It’s not over yet,” Luke replied with a smile.

“I know.” It was hard to tell in the dim lighting but Luke was certain she blushed. “There’s definitely more to come.”

Luke chuckled. He felt the phone in his pocket vibrate and he withdrew it, laughing as he had to lean over toward Jen, who promptly kissed him again.

He checked the phone. It was a text message from an unknown number. It said simply, “Are you coming outside or shall I come in? –Q”

All thoughts of romance washed away in a flood of cold tension. Jen sensed the change immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

Luke wasn’t sure how to answer. “I have to make a phone call,” he said finally. He stood up, leaning over to kiss her. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Luke?”

“It’s okay,” he assured her. “I just need to make this call.”

He walked away from Jen and headed toward the restrooms. The hallway was off to the side and many were taking advantage of the break in the music to use the facilities. Luke squeezed by them and, after a quick check for staff, pushed out the rear exit.

Qismat stood at the end of the small court. She was leaning against a car with her arms folded across her chest. She was, of course, smiling.

“I hope you don’t mind,” she said. “I took the liberty of hacking the phone system for your number.” She shrugged, not apologetic at all. “It was all I could think of.”

Luke stared at her, unsure of how to act. The seeming ease at which she’d discovered his identity unnerved him the way no one else had. In spite of all his precautions before, and many since, she could still accomplish something like this.

She was good. She was very good.

“What do you want, Qismat?”

She cocked her head. “No anger? No vitriolic comments? Just a simple question?”

“I’m not in the mood,” he said flatly. “Just get on with it.”

Qismat sighed, disappointed. “Very well, Mister Serious. I want the man you protect. I want Frankie Jacks.”

Luke blinked. “What?”

“Frankie Jacks,” she said again patiently. “I want him. He is the last on my list. With him gone I can return from whence I came.” She paused and let her head roll back so that she could see the night sky. “Unless I decide I like it here, of course. There is much to offer.”

“No.”

“No?” Qismat cocked her head to the side. “No I cannot stay, or no I cannot have Frankie Jacks?”

Luke sighed. He really wasn’t in the mood for this. “No, you can’t have Frankie. You’ll be staying, though, because you’ll be in prison.”

Qismat laughed. “I do not think so, habibi. I will be finished soon, and then I will be on my way.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

She was quiet for a long time. From the closed door of the club the sounds of music could be heard as the band began playing.

“They are good,” she said after a moment. “I’ve liked them for a while now.” She again cast those dark eyes on him. “You could invite me in for a drink,” she said, then smiled. “Oh, that’s right. You already have a date for the evening.” She shook her head, her dark hair bobbing in a tail behind her. “Such a silly day, devoted to saying ‘I love you’ when you should need no special day for such a thing.”

“Are we done here?”

Qismat sighed and pushed herself off the car. “I suppose so. You will not give me what I want.” The way she said it seemed laden with innuendo. “And you have a guest waiting for you. I will not keep you.”

She reached under her jacket and pulled out a rose. She showed it to him and set it on the car. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Luke Merriweather.” She turned and walked away.

* * * *

Inside the evening seemed colder. Luke couldn’t shake the anger and frustration that Qismat drew out of him, and Jen, sensing the change in demeanor, ceased trying to either coax information from him or to try and get him into a better mood. After another hour of pretending they called it a night, and there no more to come, after all.

* * * *

“For the love of God, kid, just call her.”

Luke sighed and steadfastly ignored Pops as he wiped down the shelves behind the bar.

“What’s the matter?” Ken asked.

“Nothing.” Luke didn’t look up.

“He had a fight with his lady friend,” Pops explained from the end of the bar. He looked up from his newspaper. “I’m guessing Prince Charming here fucked up somehow.”

“Oh, Christ,” Ken said. “As many times as Marsha and I had a fight, if I’da stayed mad we’d never talk.”

“That might be a good thing,” Pops rejoined, going back to his paper.

Ken wheezed out a laugh. “Might be at that.” He took a sip of his drink. “Listen, kid, ain’t nothing so bad that you can’t just make peace with her, you know? You just gotta suck it up.”

“Not that easy,” Luke said shortly.

“Could be another girl,” Old Don offered. “Not the first time that’s happened to a guy.” The others nodded knowingly. Luke threw down the rag and went into the back.

He came back a minute later with a box of liquor. He began restocking the speed shelf when a buzzing caught his attention. He set the box down and retrieved his phone from next to the register. A text message. From Jen.

With relief and trepidation he opened his phone. His heart stopped.

“—Q”

He stood staring at the phone for who knew how long.

“Luke?” Pops was looking at him, concern on his face. “You okay?”

His voice wouldn’t work. He felt himself start to shake. He turned and practically ran out of the bar.