I was out of practice.
“Okay. I’m ready.” I walked back inside the kitchen with a phony smile plastered on my face. It was one of those moments where you weren’t sure how to let go of the facial expression naturally because it was so forced it left a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Are you okay?” Daveigh asked.
“Yeah. Why?”
“You look guilty or pained. Constipated maybe? I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Well, I did drive eleven hours through three states. It’s nothing. Just a long day.” I sighed and was content with the lie I’d scrambled to feed her. Even after two years had gone by, Daveigh still knew when something was wrong. It pissed me off. For being the younger sister, she’d always been the one to be more in tune with Finn’s and my emotions. I felt like that should’ve been my job as their protector.
“So, if you drove, then where’s your car?” she asked as she closed the front door behind her.
“It’s across town at Fast Eddie’s,” I replied.
She turned away from me and shrugged into her jacket. “Oh?”
“Broke down right down the street from his shop. Beanbag gave me a ride on his way home. Did you know he worked there? Surprised the hell out of me. Figured he’d pursue his acting career or something.”
“So…Fast. Eddie’s?” She rifled through the set of keys on repeat at breakneck speed before she located the one for the house. It shouldn’t have been rocket science since the ring only occupied four keys.
“Maybe it’s my turn to ask. Is everything okay with you?” I studied her, our own game of chess growing more complicated as the evening went on.
“Yeah.” She focused on locking the front door. “It’s just lucky you were so close and weren’t stranded in the middle of nowhere. That’s all.”
I didn’t believe her explanation, and I knew luck had nothing to do with my life. Karma had a funny way of biting me in the ass. Sarcasm laced my words like a tight corset, but I wasn’t sure whether she noticed. “My days are chock full of horseshoes and four-leaf clovers these days. Better buy a lottery ticket. Quick.”
“Either way, I’m glad you’re here.” She gave me a slap on the ass as we headed down the porch, the third step from the bottom living up to its reputation with a significant groan. It was clear both of us were making some kind of effort at bridging the gap in our screwed-up relationship.
We got into Daveigh’s Ford Thunderbird, a gift from Rent-A-Cop Gene, and headed toward The Fill & Spill, less than a mile from the house. She flipped on the radio to a local station that played budding indie artists—my favorite. Anything was better than Beanbag’s lame sauce country tunes. Plus, the break from talking was welcome.
As we waited at the stoplight across the street from the standalone bar, I looked at the brick building. The substantial crack from a previous earthquake was still as obvious as ever on the lower corner near the entrance. A few bricks near the roofline were still missing too. The blinking neon sign spun slowly high on a pole near the street. Just like the old days. Giant letters displayed a burned-out F, leaving it to read “Ill and Spill” in curvy red font. That? That was new. Knowing some of the terrible bar food they served, the updated name, although unintentional, fit. Someone should’ve really jumped on fixing that. Nothing could beat Boberto’s Burger Bungalow for heartburn though. Hours later, I still paid the price for that decision.
The small gravel parking lot was nearly full, which was what I’d expect for a Saturday night. There were two activities on the weekends in Steele Falls: drown in the ocean or drown your sorrows. Most people chose the latter. Either way, it was an escape. Few people stood outside in small clusters, smoking cigarettes, gesturing, and laughing. A young couple made out heavily in the corner under the shadows cast by a nearby streetlight. The dumpster overflowing with black trash bags in the background was a nice touch to their romantic moment. Scanning the crowd, I didn’t recognize a single soul. That was enough to make me relax a little.
We pulled into the lot and parked in one of two remaining spaces. For as many times as I’d been to the dive bar, I felt remarkably like a stranger in my own home town.
“Hungry?” Daveigh asked.
“Not really,” I replied. Thinking back to the pile of grease-soaked fries swimming in their respective cardboard boat from earlier in the day left me feeling green when it came to food. “I’ll probably drink my dinner tonight.”
She glanced at her phone before jamming it into her purse with a scowl. “Me too. My appetite is suddenly gone.”
I studied my sister from the corner of my eye when she got out of the car and slammed the door. Hard. Staring didn’t give me any answers like I’d hoped. I trailed after Daveigh toward the entrance and bit my lip. Knowing her, if I pushed for information on her mood, I was likely to get even fewer answers. It wasn’t surprising. She was difficult to read, much like me. It was a trait inherited from Mother Elana herself.
“So, when’s Finn flying in from London?” I asked.
“Finn?”
“Finn. Our brother? You said everyone had to be here for the funeral. Remember?”
“Oh yeah. That.” She adjusted the shoulder strap on her purse. “Can we not talk about the funeral tonight? I’m sure Mommy will give you his flight information tomorrow.”
More memories came tumbling back as I looked through the frosty window from the outside. The mechanical bull. Goldfish races. Beer pong. The Fill & Spill was where I spent my twenty-first birthday. It was where I first—
“Hey. You coming or not?” Daveigh snapped her fingers in front of my face as she’d held the door for me.
“Huh? Yeah.” I blinked quickly.
“Sometimes, you’re like talking to a freaking doorknob,” she muttered. “And that’s insulting the doorknob.”
Music funneled through the loudspeakers and was still as loud as I remembered, the hot pink and green-colored wallpaper with gold accents even louder. I grimaced in its ugly glory. Whiffs of stale beer and fried food floated through the air, and it made my stomach flip-flop. I’d forgotten I’d always showered after leaving the bar because everything was tainted with the scent of Marlboro’s and over-cooked chicken tenders.
I followed in Daveigh’s wake across the room to an open seating area. Barstools with worn wooden tops, their glossy luster faded, were lined around rectangular tables. The top of each one was adorned with half-filled salt and pepper shakers and a messy stack of paper coasters. An olive-colored couch with etched woodwork on the base was perched in the corner with a matching chair cattycorner to it. Both were stained from one too many spilled drinks, and both were the most uncomfortable pieces of furniture I’d ever put my ass on. I was surprised they were still around.
At the far wall, a woman was seated on one of the stools at a table for six, talking on speaker with her cell phone in one hand and a glass of blush wine perched in the other. She wore a sheer cold-shouldered top with a camisole underneath and black leather pants. It didn’t seem to bother her that she was the only one in the bar who sat alone. Her long red fingernails sparkled under the smoky hue of the pendant light overhead while she examined her manicure against the glass of her drink.
“Hang on a sec!” Daveigh yelled in my ear.
I nodded, mindlessly swaying to the beat of the music.
“Lucy!” Daveigh hollered at the woman to compete with the bass. My sister yelled again and waved enthusiastically. “Over here!”
The woman spotted my sister a few seconds later and immediately ended her call with a quick goodbye. She stood up and squealed loudly before hugging Daveigh, both of them gushing and tittering at each other. Once again, I felt like I didn’t belong.
Daveigh must have sensed my feeling of displacement. “Oh! I forgot! You two haven’t met yet. Lucy, this is my older sister, Blue.” She nudged me with her elbow. “Blue, Lucy.”
“Nice to meet you.” I extended my hand.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” She had a strong handshake and a sultry voice. “So sorry to hear about your dad,” she said with a pained look on her face. It reminded me of the consoling look I received when someone heard one of my Cash stories. Any semblance of pity being present tainted genuine concern.
I almost corrected her and said, “step”, but I didn’t see the point. Lucy didn’t care if Tom was my step-father. I’d likely never see her again, let alone carry on meaningful conversation. The simplest response seemed the most appropriate.
“Thank you,” I replied.
“I didn’t know you were back from The Bahamas already.” Daveigh sat on the barstool next to her. “When did you get into town?”
“It was only a five-day. Got back this morning. Jet lag is a real bitch. Boat lag. Whatevs.”
“Well, your tan is incredible,” Daveigh replied. “I swear, you always look like you jumped out of a magazine.”
“Thanks!” Lucy beamed. “My bikini lines are almost non-existent now after I spent time on that nude beach I told you about.”
Daveigh explained, “Lucy has the best job in the world. She works on a cruise ship.”
“Nice. What cruise?” I asked.
“Oh, thanks! I got it at Macy’s.” She glanced down at her top and adjusted it to showcase more of her ample cleavage.
It was clear she didn’t have a clue what I’d said as the music pumped louder, deafening anyone within a five-foot radius. Again, I was left to let the unnatural look slide from my face with her response. The wooden planks beneath my feet vibrated with the level of bass the speakers produced. Lyrics weren’t even comprehensible anymore, and a massive dose of ibuprofen would be in my near future. I was getting too old for the bar scene.
“How do you two know each other?” I changed the subject, competing against the booming song lyrics.
“We went to high school together,” Daveigh said. “Well, she moved here during the second half of my senior year. Didn’t start really hanging out until a while after graduation…”
“So, what are you doing here then?” I stopped her from having to finish the sentence, and then I wondered if my bluntness had come across as rude. No one in their right mind would stick around Steele Falls if they had a job on a cruise ship lined up. Seeing the world or waiting around to rot and die? The choice seemed pretty obvious to me.
“I’ve got a cousin who lives across town. He rents me a room for a screaming deal. That way, I don’t have to buy an entire house or worry about an apartment. Seems pointless until I’m ready to settle down, which still sounds like the most horrible thing in the world. Monogamy. No, thank you.” She shuddered. “Plus, it saves me a shit ton of money for other stuff.”
“Like giant boobs,” Daveigh replied.
“They are fantastic, aren’t they?” Lucy grinned and puffed her chest out with a little shimmy.
“In all of their legiti-titty double-E splendor,” Daveigh said.
I was sure both of them needed to learn the true definition of “legiti-titty” because there was nothing natural about Lucy’s massive rack. She reminded me of a children’s doll, the kind where the waist was unreasonably disproportionate to the boobs. Lucy was top-heavy, and I wondered when she’d topple over.
“Wanna feel ‘em?” she asked me, jutting her chest out. “The swelling’s almost completely gone now.”
“I’ll pass,” I replied, jamming my hands into my pockets and out of sight.
“Suit yourself.” She shrugged. “The doctor in Tijuana did an amazing job though. Dirt cheap too.”
Doctor. Plastic surgery. Suddenly, I was reminded of Cash and his extensive schedule for fixing botched titty tucks and overinflated trout pouts.
“How long are you in town for?” Daveigh shouted.
“About a week,” Lucy replied. “Then, it’s on to Mexico. We should totally do dinner before I take off.”
“Yes, please!” Daveigh replied. “I could use the escape.”
I looked over at Lucy. Most girls would be envious. She was like Goldilocks. The stereotypical “just right”, well, outside of her oversized headlights. Flawless creamy caramel-colored skin was a perfect contrast against her emerald green eyes. Her hair was worn down and hung to the middle of her back, a few loose locks draping over the front of her shoulder. Like a damn shampoo commercial, not a strand was out of place. It was a gorgeous sea of tightly-woven blonde and coffee-brown spirals.
I was caught off guard when a male voice sounded.
“Ladies, what’ll it be?” A waiter approached the table with a thick accent in tow, pad of paper in-hand, and a pen perched behind his ear. He appeared to be roughly my age, but I definitely didn’t remember ever seeing him around Steele Falls before. A metallic nametag read “Santi” on a gray button-up that was tucked into a tight pair of blue jeans. And I mean tight. You could see everything God gave that man. His sleeves had been rolled up to his elbows, accentuating each individual muscle on his tanned forearms. I continued to take in his bold features. Strong jaw. Convex nose. Jet black hair was slicked across his scalp and barely greeted his shoulders. I wondered what part of Italy he’d moved from, and why on earth he’d ever want to come to Steele Falls. Deep dimples appeared when he smiled. Just like Lucy, I was certain he was the envy of many.
“Hello there, sailor. I didn’t know you were working tonight.” Lucy batted her eyes, adjusting the way she was seated so she could make a production out of crossing her legs. “It’s been a while.”
He smirked at her, the look saying more than words could convey. “Jackie just left. I’m only working for a few hours to cover for her, but with you here, I’m definitely standing at attention now.”
Oh, the innuendo.
“I’ll have a beer,” I replied, ignoring the obnoxious level of flirting that occurred next to me. “I don’t care what kind. Make it a surprise.”
“Another glass of rosé,” Lucy held up her near-empty glass, “and you if you’re available later tonight.”
“How about eleven o’clock?” Santi asked, his voice barely elevating above a throaty purr. “That’s when my shift ends. Maybe you could meet me up at the bar. You know, whet our whistles before we take off?”
“As if you even need to ask when it comes to your whistle,” Lucy replied with a devious grin.
She turned toward my sister as Santi walked around to the other side of the table to hear Daveigh’s order better. “He’s got the biggest…feet,” Lucy mouthed with a giggle. “Like gigandick.”
“I’m not sure what I want yet.” Daveigh fished her gold-toned cell out of her pocket, a series of lights blinking around the perimeter in a rainbow of colors. Even though her level of fashion had waned a few levels over the past two years, her phone was as attention-grabbing as ever. Studying the illuminated screen resulted in her shoulders slumping. “I’ll be right back. Gotta take this.”
My little sister stormed through the doors toward the parking lot, and I wondered what could’ve stolen her attention so quickly from a friend back in town and a sister who’d reappeared after two years. Then, I remembered I was alone with Lucy. Lucky me.
It was quiet in the bar between songs, leaving me to feel thirteen levels below uncomfortable.
“You lucked out. Karaoke ended a little while ago. It was especially abysmal tonight. The last act, the drunk chick wearing the corset in the corner,” she nodded across the room, “thought she was an opera singer. The next artist is amazing though. She’s the main reason why I come here on Saturday nights when I’m in town.” Lucy’s voice was loud as she competed with the group of people sitting next to us. “Well, that and for Santi. Sometimes, you get a craving for…bar food.” She winked at me and scoped him out across the room again.
The local radio station continued playing another round of 90’s rock, and I slumped back in my chair, trying to digest the day. My momentary reflection was short-lived when Lucy wanted to strike up conversation again.
“So,” Lucy uncrossed her legs and adjusted the scoop of her top to showcase even more of her cleavage when she saw Santi walking back with our drinks, “how are you doing with the news? You know, about your dad.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I merely shrugged my shoulders. My desire to discuss the topic hovered on empty. Plus, it felt uncomfortable to be chatting about family with a complete stranger. Who was I kidding? It felt weird to talk about family with family under the circumstances. The line between being polite and an asshole to Lucy was paper thin, so I did my best to not offend my sister’s friend.
“I know Daveigh’s been a hot mess,” she continued. “Her moods have been swinging from one extreme to the next. It hit her pretty damn hard.”
“Well, I’ve never been an emotional or social butterfly.” I lifted my beer to my mouth and took a drink from the plastic cup. “I tend to hold it in and hide out in my cocoon.”
“As she’s mentioned on more than one occasion.”
I frowned. It bothered me not knowing what else Lucy might or might not have known about me. After all, we’d just met, and I didn’t know a damn thing about her outside of her flavor preference for whetting Santi’s whistle.
A few minutes later, Daveigh walked back up with a beer in her hand from the bar. “Sorry. It was an important call.” She glanced at her watch. “And now I’ve got to tinkle. I’ll be right back. Promise!” I watched my sister weave her way toward the bathroom and I was abruptly left with Lucy once more. Who knows? Maybe she’d end up being my new best friend. Nah. Hello, round three of difficult conversation.
“So, tell me about Steele Falls. What’s it like these days?” I asked.
“Ehh...I leave for a cruise one week and come back five or ten days later. Not much ever changes during the time I’m gone. You know how things go around here; you’ve lived it.”
I decided to curve the topic away from family and town as a list of subjects flitted through my head. “So, what’s your position on the ship? Like an activities director?”
She snorted, nearly spilling her glass of rosé on the table. “I guess you could call it that. In fact, I think that’s the most politically correct description I’ve heard for what I do.”
“My other guess was going to be bartender.” I took a drink of beer. “You’ve got that look. Like people open up to you and you’ve heard a lot of sob stories about their lives.”
“You’re good.” She pointed at me with her index finger. “Also fitting, but I…do a different kind of mixing.” She smirked as she took a sip of her wine.
I raised an eyebrow to inquire as I played with the condensation ring on the worn tabletop. “Well, you’ve piqued my curiosity.”
“I’m a sex therapist. A couple’s expert,” she replied.
I instantly spit my mouthful of beer in a fine mist across the table and choked.
“Oh, my gosh. Are you okay?” She whacked me on the back and handed me a napkin.
“Fine,” I croaked. “Just swallowed wrong.”
“Looks like you’re a spitter to me,” she said, looking at the droplets on the table.
“You’re so young. Didn’t you have to go to school for years to do that?”
“It was nothing short of a miracle with how much I had to work my ass off. I did Running Start in high school. After I graduated, I pulled a double major in college. Living on nothing but energy drinks and coffee for a few years probably aged me more than I’m willing to admit, but I’ve known this was what I wanted to do since I was sixteen.”
Good night! When I was sixteen, I was more concerned about finding ways to sneak out late at night and what new CDs were going to drop that week. Not one fiber of my being knew what I wanted to be when I grew up. Thinking about it, I had no clue while I sat with Lucy at The Fill & Spill that night.
“So, which cruise line do you work for?” I asked hoarsely.
“DeLuge. Well, technically, I’m still job shadowing for a couple of more months. But when the new ship sets sail to Alaska next year, I’ll be considered permanent staff.”
“Isn’t the DeLuge Cruise like a giant orgy?” I asked, my eyes still watering from the beer I’d somehow inhaled into my lungs. Everything stunk like hops.
“Come on. That makes it sound so grimy.” She paused. “I’d describe it as a multi-day wild party with unrestricted, sexual activity. Nothing wrong with exploring your options. Gotta know what floats your boat.” She winked.
“I see what you did there. Cruise. Boat.”
“I like you.” She laughed. “If you’re interested, I can give you my employee discount. You know, if you need a break after all this funeral stuff is over. Half off.”
“I don’t think a sex cruise is really my style,” I said.
“Suit yourself,” she replied. “But they have an amazing gift shop. There’s a four-star buffet. The chef makes the best crème brûlée. It’s out of this world! Oh! And there’s shuffleboard. See? It’s not all sex, all the time.”
“Well, with a slogan like, “If you build it, they will come”, that accompanies softcore porn music on the TV commercials, it doesn’t lead the mind to believe much else goes on,” I said.
“And come, they sure do.” Lucy got a dreamy look on her face and raised her glass in an imaginary toast. “Over and over again.”
Three years ago, Jonathan DeLuge discovered there was a niche in the dating industry, a demand for a sexually driven cruise line. A place where men and women, regardless of sexual orientation, married or not, could explore their fantasies without risk of STDs, an extramarital affair, or non-consensual sex. It was all-inclusive, which included limitless room-hopping. Money wasn’t allowed while the ship was at sea to deter any whisper of prostitution. I’d heard the application process was extensive. Blood tests and full-body physicals were required to rule out any diseases. Spouses were required to sign off via notary if both weren’t embarking on the trip. For a shady-sounding setup, a lot of thought had been put into it. And the business model brought in a ton of money. A ton. Numbers on the stock market soared. That specific cruise line had been under scrutiny on the news since it’d opened, but it still operated without less than a stellar rating on the Better Business Bureau. And it was more often referred to in the everyday world as the “Spooge Cruise”. I wouldn’t want to be a housekeeper on that boat. The thought of what those stiff bedsheets endured was enough to make me cringe.
“What do you do for work?” she asked, not taking her eyes off Santi as she shot him a wink and a flirtatious wave.
“Nothing fancy or exciting like you. I worked…work for a plastic surgeon. A company called Jensen & Jensen.” I wasn’t ready to reveal my unemployed status, especially to a sex therapist who represented a smutty cruise line.
“Oh, wow. That must be rewarding, right? Helping people feel better about themselves.”
I thought back to Cash and our one-sided arrangement. One-sided dates. One-sided dinners. One-sided sex. One-sided decisions. There was no reward on my end. I was the giver, and he was the taker. I still wasn’t ready to admit what we’d had was ever classified as a relationship…because it wasn’t. None of it mattered though; it was over. “Yeah. Super satisfying. Can’t wait to get back.”
Just then, the 90s music faded away as a solo performer walked up onto the stage. Most of the crowd hushed, with the exception of a group of men wolf-whistling at her. Her level of confidence was unrivaled; she didn’t flinch. The woman looked young, but something behind her eyes told me she had experience. If I had to guess, she was probably in her mid to late twenties. The A-frame sign propped up on the corner of the stage spelled out “Wonder” in curly chalk letters on a black backdrop. She wore thick-knit fishnets and a strapless black dress that accentuated the many tattoos spanning her arms. Heavy eyeliner made her appearance look fierce, yet it remained feminine. Her hair was an impressive masterpiece though. With her head shaved on one side, the other side hung down to her shoulder in a reverse bob, a sea of bright pink and blue.
A man with kinky white hair spoke into a microphone near the edge of the stage behind a folding table that overflowed with DJ equipment. “Karaoke is over for tonight, and you all did an amazing job. Now, let’s give a warm welcome to Wonder!”
The audience applauded and chanted her name.
I steered the conversation once again, not wanting any chance of the spotlight remaining on me. “I didn’t know Wonder played here. I adore her music,” I said.
“Me too! Fucking love her! Hey, she’s going to be playing up in Leavenworth next month when I’m not working. We should totally go and make it into a girl’s trip with ‘Veigh. Plus, all the Christmas stuff should be up soon.”
“I’m only in town for the funeral,” I replied, trying to weave disappointment into my words. “Leavenworth’s a little far from where I’m living now.”
“Too bad.” She stuck out her lower lip. “I haven’t met too many others who knew of her right off the bat. I’m still not sure how this chick hasn’t landed a huge record deal yet.”
Where is Daveigh? I craned my neck, trying to look over the crowd.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You’re wound up tighter than a two-dollar watch,” Lucy said.
“I’m fine.” I wrung a bar napkin in my hands while my knee bounced nervously.
“Right.” She studied me. “Is that why you’re killing that poor thing?”
I looked down at the coiled-up piece of paper. “Rough day. Week. Month. Whatever you want to call it.” I set it down and drank the remaining two thirds of my beer without coming up for air.
“Blue, when was the last time you were laid?” she asked me with a straight face.
I spit my drink across the table for a second time that night, the spray hitting the sleeve of her shirt. “Excuse me?”
“You’re two for two. Goes to show spitters aren’t quitters.” She blotted her arm with a napkin I hadn’t destroyed yet.
I felt my cheeks redden. “Sorry.”
“Well?”
“Well what?” I asked.
“You know. When did you last sink the sausage? Cuddle aggressively? Participate in performing the disappearing cane trick?”
My jaw fell slightly and I was at a loss for words. Being that brazen about sex with a stranger wasn’t a normal Saturday night activity for me.
She reached across the table and rested the pad of her index finger below my chin and lifted slightly to close the gap between my lips. “This is Steele Falls, honey. There are no secrets here. We’re all friends. So, when was the last time someone dipped their wick in your honey pot?”
“Look, I just got out of a relation…arrangement, and he—”
“The sex was that bad, huh?” There was that disapproving head bob, wince, and a consoling pat on the shoulder again. The SHAT combo wasn’t contained to Sacramento. That nugget of goodness stretched all the way to Steele Falls.
Once again, I was floored.
“Your face says it all. It’s okay. We’ll find you someone to have gland-to-gland combat with.”
“So, how many euphemisms for sex do you know? Is that a requirement for your job?”
She smiled wide. “Trust me, I could go on for days. Look. If my crystal ball is right, you could use some kind of release, even if you have to ménage a moi yourself.”
I tried to focus on a drunk woman who crawled up on the stage, trying to sing backup for Wonder. She wore a tight corset, her chest spilling over the top. The artist took it like a champ and embraced performing the duet, no matter how much the stranger destroyed the song. Corset Lady staggered and almost fell three times within the first two lines of the chorus. It was like seeing a train wreck. I couldn’t look away.
“Here. Take this with you,” Lucy said.
“What is it?” I asked, watching the drama unfold as a bouncer pulled the woman off the stage with a swift yank. Punches were thrown, and the woman succeeded in hitting herself in the jaw. The crowd cheered as she crashed to the floor with a giant thud.
“Reading material. You can thank me later. I’ve got it all bookmarked for you.”
By ignoring Lucy, she should’ve taken the hint and stopped talking. At least that’s what a normal person would do. I’d assumed she baited me with information about the cruise she pushed. I also assumed she was paid on commission and got some kind of kickback for recruiting customers. Those kind of marketing schemes pissed me off. If I wanted to go on a naked cruise, I’d say I wanted to go on a naked cruise.
I vaguely recall her slipping something into my tote bag. In my stupidity, I was trying to not focus on what she said. A security guard escorted the drunk karaoke artist toward the exit with her arms pinned behind her back. All I registered were the words: “borrow”, “80%”, and “enjoy”.
Lucy continued talking, but I still wasn’t listening. By that time, tuning her out was easy as corset woman wriggled free. She made another mad dash for the stage, swinging and punching as she tripped over the laces on her combat boots, smashing her face on the edge of a table. There was blood.
Where the hell is Daveigh?
“Got all of that?” Lucy asked.
“Huh? Yeah. No problem,” I replied with a smile even though I didn’t have a damn clue what she’d said in the past two minutes.
As the first song came to an end, the DJ tapped on his microphone twice and announced a brief five-minute intermission until the commotion subsided.
As silence took hold, a small grouping of people up at the bar caught my eye. One of them appeared to be the main focus, telling a story with enthusiastic arm gestures. The few who’d gathered around him hung on his every word.
“Who’s everyone captivated by over there?” I pointed toward the crowd.
Lucy looked up. “Huh? Oh! The specimen on the end?”
I nodded.
“That,” Lucy took a swig of her near-empty wine, “is Zachary Main, most eligible bachelor of Steele Falls. He moved here last June. July maybe? I’d ask, but it doesn’t matter. No need for him to talk with what I get out of our arrangement. I’ve done Zack half a dozen times. He’s a decent fuck, but sometimes I wonder whether he’s worth the town hype, you know? He handles his business like his relationships. A real wham, bam, thank you, ma’am-type.”
Thinking of Cash, I more than knew what she meant.
“He looks like he enjoys being the center of attention,” I said, watching the man clap one of his friends on the shoulder once, offering a punchline to a joke. As if on command, they all laughed loudly at the exact same moment.
“He comes from money. Some fancy real estate investor who has more than he knows what to do with. Started buying houses and flipping them fresh out of high school. And his empire exploded. His next conquest is taking down Steele Falls, home by home, remodeling to help boost the economy out of its perma-slump. Sheer brilliance, if you ask me, considering this shit hole.”
I popped a stale pretzel from a bowl on the center of the table into my mouth and rolled the rough texture around against my tongue, the bits of salt making me salivate. Silently, I screamed for Daveigh to return from the bathroom for the hundredth time. I’d learned way more than I’d ever wanted to know about Lucy and her sex life.
Zack took a step back to study a leggy blonde honing in on the group of men like a heat-seeking missile. She wore a hot pink low-cut top with a matching mini-skirt showcasing her midriff. Blonde hair cascaded down her back, nearly touching her ass. When he leaned in to kiss Ms. Endless Legs on the cheek and whisper in her ear, it revealed another man standing next to him. A frowning man. Mr. Scowl leaned against the bar as he typed furiously on his phone, not paying any attention to Zack or his stories.
“And that’s Zack’s friend, Adam Rockwell.” Lucy nodded across the room. “Polar opposites, if you ask me. I’ve been trying to screw that one for months now. Done everything but spread my legs and crawl on his face to show him I’m interested. Seriously. I’ve been throwing myself in front of him for so long I’m starting to wonder if he bats for the other team.”
Santi slowed down long enough to hand Lucy another glass of wine and give her shoulder a gentle squeeze before he continued onward to the next table.
“Thank you, love.” She smiled at him and then turned her focus back to me. “I mean, how do you think that makes me look if I can’t bag someone like Adam Rockwell? I’m the fucking relationship professional around here,” she continued.
The rest of Lucy’s words were lost on me as I studied the man across the way. Even in a crowd, his presence was compelling. Goosebumps crawled up my arms and down my back as I drank Adam in from head to toe. His dark hair was long enough to run my fingers through. From afar, I could still see the vibrant color of his irises. I envisioned up close his eyes were the color of warm caramel ribbons. It reminded me of that brilliant gold when you drizzle the rich confection over vanilla ice cream as a pristine backdrop. His mouth—
“Hey.” Lucy snapped her fingers in front of my face, a knowing smile curling at the corners of her garnet-colored lips. “Did you hear what I said about Zack? Last I heard, he’s still single and a mediocre fuck if you need….” Her line of vision traveled to where I looked, and she cocked her head to the side while her expression turned from coy to pity. “Oh, honey. Don’t waste your time. It’s not gonna happen. Your vagina will curl up and die before you get that one horizontal and naked. Trust me.”
I shook my head. “I wasn’t…I…”
Lucy lowered her voice to a throaty whisper, “Rumor has it Adam’s last girlfriend broke him in every way imaginable. Fuck.” She downed her last mouthful of wine. “I’d like to break him, if you know what I mean. Lucky bitch.”
I tried to tear my stare away from Adam’s physique, but found it difficult to stop looking. He wore a simple white t-shirt with a black and gray flannel over it, unbuttoned. It was casual. Questions filtered through my head. Who was he talking to? Why was he frowning? Was he wearing aftershave? Even his faded blue jeans were enough to mesmerize me while the sounds of clinking glasses, laughter, and Lucy faded away to a dull echo.
Lucy grabbed my arm and brought me back to reality, hopping down from the barstool. “I’ve got a great idea.” She staggered in her stilettos, reminding me of a baby deer fresh from the womb.
“What are you doing?” I hissed, yanking my hand from her grip, nearly losing my beer in the other.
“C’mon. I’ll introduce you to Zack. You look like you could use a little squeeze and a squirt in your life after everything that happened at home with…well, you know…death and all.”
My eyes widened. “Oh! No, no really. That’s okay. I’m only in town for a few days, and I need to go. There isn’t time for—”
“Please. Everyone has some time for Zachary Main in their life and in-between their legs.”
Again, Lucy got grabby, and gripped my wrist in one hand and her purse in the other, weaving us through the crowd toward the grouping of men. “This’ll be fun.”
It was clear Lucy’s idea of “fun” was far different than mine. Give me a cup of tea, the latest Aurelia Fray book, and Catzilla on a Saturday night to color me happy. Isolation was where I belonged, not in a crowded bar. I wondered whether I’d have rather endured sushi and “dangling cock sockets” as Cash had so romantically put it. I’d officially sunk to a new low. Weighing my options between perusing artistic vaginas and hooking up with a stranger—neither seemed tempting. At all. When did my life become so odd?
“This really isn’t necessary.” I tried to wrench my hand free from her grip. By the time I turned around, Adam was out of sight. We were making a beeline directly for Zachary Main.
“Pish posh. You can thank me later, post-bed head.” Lucy gave me a swift shove from behind until I collided with Zack’s chest, my left palm greeting warm, firm pectorals through a silky shirt.
Slowly, I looked up into inquisitive gray eyes, my hand still pressed up against him. His aftershave took me by surprise. It held a pleasant blend of bold spice with hints of grapefruit and tangerine. “Uhhh…”
“Well, hi there.” Zack paused, the bitter scent of vodka lingering on his breath as he looked down at me. Heat radiated through his shirt with his slow, deep breaths and I froze.
“S…sorry.” My body tensed and I shot Lucy a glare. “I must’ve slipped or something.”
“No need to apologize with blue eyes like those,” he said. “I’m Zachary Main.”
“I know…I mean, I’ve heard.” A bead of sweat trickled down my back, and I was thankful the lighting was subdued to detract from the pink tingling my cheeks. “Lucy had nothing but great things to say about you.”
“Lucy?” Zack glanced up and furrowed his brow to match a name with a face. “Lucy!” he exclaimed as he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. “It’s been a while.”
“Too long if you ask me.” Lucy smirked. “Enough about me though. I’d like you to meet Blue. Blue Brennan.”
“Brennan…why does that name sound familiar?” Zack set down his glass next to a grouping of others. From the empties, it appeared he was on his fifth drink already.
“Her little sister is Daveigh Meyers, her mom’s the mayor, and her uncle owns Brennan Construction.”
Zack snapped his fingers. “That’s right! Of course! Sorry. The alcohol’s talking tonight. One too many vodka tonics. Ty Brennan was one of the masterminds behind my house and inspiration for some of my current work.”
At that precise moment Zack mentioned my uncle’s name, an idea struck, a brilliant lightbulb going off over my head. It was late though, and it would have to wait until the next day to put into motion. I filed the mental bookmark for later.
Zack continued, “Couldn’t have asked for more gorgeous craftsmanship.”
“I’ll be sure to pay him the compliment if I see him while I’m in town.”
“Please do.” Zack smiled. “Also, be sure to tell him his niece was beautifully-crafted.”
I averted my eyes and blushed.
“And I’m sorry. I heard the news about your dad. Never met him face-to-face, but I heard he was an upstanding pillar in the community. A real go-getter.”
We’d made a pit stop on the topic of family, and that was my cue to leave. I hesitated before words found my mouth. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Zachary,” I said, scoping out the nearest exit.
Zack’s gaze sought out mine while he slipped his business card into my hand, the palm of his other sliding across my knuckles. The tips of his fingers slowly trailed small circles around each one before moving onward to the next.
I gulped.
His hand greeted my wrist and squeezed lightly. I wondered if he could feel my pulse racing beneath the skin. “My friends call me, Zack,” he murmured into my ear, “but you can call me anytime. This is my personal number.”
I shivered, and not because I was impressed. Zack’s eyes were intense, as if I were the only one in the room. The way he looked at me felt more like a warning signal, but oddly familiar. And then it hit home. The line sounded like one Cash would’ve used on me back when he tried to win me over in the beginning.
“Damn, I could drown in those baby blues.” He paused. “Can I buy you a drink before you—”
“I…can’t.” It was all too much, too recognizable. I needed to escape. Fast.
Spinning around, I sped toward the door with Lucy hot on my heels, but I only got as far as the end of the bar counter before she grabbed me by the wrist again, jerking me to a halt.
I glanced over my shoulder at Zack for a brief moment while she braced me in place.
He looked confused, shouting after me, “Did I say something wrong?”
I tried to pull away again, but her grip maintained its firmness.
“Wait!” Lucy hissed. “Zack was about three seconds away from taking you home for the night. Where are you going?”
I felt tears pricking at the back of my eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing. Here. In Steele Falls. At this bar. Any of it. I shouldn’t have come back.”
Lucy was at a loss as she looked around, grasping at straws to keep me from leaving. “What about Daveigh? Don’t you want to wait for—”
“Tell her…tell her I had to go.” I scrunched my eyes shut. “Tell her…I walked home. Tell her I went home with Zack. Whatever you want.”
I turned toward the door with determination fueling my steps when I collided with someone else. Hard. It was the scent of aftershave that made me stagger and lose my balance, but it was far different from Zack’s. The smell of fresh pine trees and rain filled my nose. It was accompanied by a hearty slosh of beer as the full cup I held spilled, emptied, and crushed between myself and the person in front of me.
Strong hands grabbed my upper arms to keep me from falling. “Damn it,” a husky voice sounded while the crunched piece of plastic fell to the ground.
My eyes traveled up slowly, finding myself staring into the eyes of an angry Adam Rockwell.