He looked up with tired eyes and smiled. “Thanks,” he said stretching.
“No problem. Maybe you should go up and get some rest.” Her hand rested on his massive back.
“I probably would, but I’m starving,” he said, sitting up. He looked at his watch. “Are you finished for the day?” Peering back up at her, he raised his brow.
“Yep,” she said, putting her gloves in her cleaning basket.
He eyed her. “Would you like to go and get something to eat?”
LaToya tilted her head. “I don’t know. I don’t normally...”
“Oh come on. You mean to tell me that you’re not hungry?”
“Because I’m fat, I have to be hungry, huh?”
“Fat? You’re not fat,” he said, shaking his head. “You want to see a fat woman, you should see my grandmother. Now, there’s a woman with a little extra meat on her bones. She’s like 300 pounds and wears red polka dots to church every Sunday.”
She laughed. So did he.
“So, will you please have an early dinner with a starving man? I don’t think I’ve eaten in like three days, or will Mr. Jenkins or your boyfriend be terribly put off.”
“There is neither.”
“Well, then you can’t possibly say no.”
LaToya bit her lip. This was not professional, but he did look pitiful and what if he went to sleep at the wheel and killed himself? She could not afford to lose a client.
“It’s just that I planned to go walking before dark,” she explained. “So...”
“I’ve got an entire gym upstairs. You can use my treadmill when we get back.”
“No. No, I can’t,” she shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. I’ll have dinner with you, but it has to be short, and then I have to go workout and not in your gym.”
“You are wonderful,” he said, standing up. “Give me two minutes to grab my keys and my wallet and then we can go.”
***
Four hours later, LaToya and Mitch were still out. The Tilted Kilt Irish pub was hidden in a thick of a chain of stores not far from Mitch’s house. Evidently, when he did go out, this was his place of choice.
Covered in green walls, decorated with all things Irish, paneled with dark wood and bubbling over with Guinness beer, his hangout was as close as she imagined he could get to something from home.
A few people knew him there and a few others wanted to know him. LaToya saw at least five women staring at them from across the room. Every time he’d catch someone’s eye, that person would lean over to their friend and nod their way. However, Mitch just kept talking and laughing. Either he did not care, or he did not care to show that he cared.
Music played in the background, something that sounded like an Irish jig, and people laughed and whirled about. It was a lot less pensive than the clubs she went to with her girls, but it was still packed.
In the corner, a group of men threw darts, while a group of women flirted a few feet away from them shooting pool. The bar was full with every seat occupied. Couples sat beside each other talking and drinking, kissing and fighting.
The barmaids were dressed in red, kilt-like uniforms. Most of them weren’t above a size four but had breasts the size of bowling balls. They brought cold beer fast and plates full of greasy foods to the table every half hour, all the while bending over in front of them so that Mitch might have a better view. But he never looked once.
This entire thing was extremely out of character for her, and she berated herself silently for it as each hour passed. However, she was having a great time.
Mitch was funny. He didn’t take himself too seriously, but he was passionate about two things - Zack and work. Zack was his son, mothered by a housewife gone rogue right after moving to Phoenix. Mitch had sworn the heat had driven her mad but inwardly, he knew it was Zach’s pediatrician who had stolen her.
“Here’s a spin on things,” he said with his Timberland boots up on the booth seat across from him. “Most of the time they say that spending time with your family will keep you together and that’s true, but keeping your son out of the pediatrician’s office is the key.” They both laughed. He shook his head and continued. “Zack’s got chicken pocks, you say? Oh, we’ll give him a little oatmeal cream for his body and send him on his way, but whatever you do, don’t send him to the doctor...he’ll come back with an ointment and the wife comes back pregnant.”
LaToya stopped laughing. Wow. That was deep. He looked at her and nodded as if to say, yes, that’s what happened. That was my fall from grace. She understood and felt compelled to share as well.