When I get home from work, Emily is gone. I put in extra hours, helping Aria get the paper ready to go to print. Despite what she apparently told Emily when they texted this morning, she had layout allocate a spot for our column, which left the opinion section with a big gaping hole in the issue. I volunteered to write a piece to fill the space. It took everything inside me not to call Emily and ask where she was. I wasn’t buying that she was sick or that she was sleeping when I knocked on her door. She hasn’t even bothered to text me back from this morning. It’s clear she’s avoiding me, and I know why. I’m the reason she can’t write her half of our column. She doesn’t want to hurt my feelings. It makes me feel pathetic, and I can’t stand that.

I make the snap decision to change my clothes and head to Last Call. My intuition was right. I need to date someone else and get over this insane infatuation I have with Emily. It’s the only way to save my pride.

The bar is crowded by the time I arrive at nine. Lonnie is bartending, which means the bar is surrounded by men in their twenties and thirties trying to flirt with her. I feel sorry for the woman. She’s about twenty-five, if I had to guess. And completely gorgeous with her long, blonde hair and green eyes. Anyone with a pulse would find her attractive.

I walk up to the end of the bar and wait patiently for her to notice me. She finally does about five minutes later.

“Sorry for the wait. It’s crazy in here tonight,” she says.

“No problem. That means good tips for you, right?”

“The tips here are always great.”

I don’t doubt it. These guys are leaving large tips in the hopes of gaining her interest.

“What can I get for you?” she asks.

I almost order an Amstel, but at the last minute I change my mind. “I’ll take whatever porter you have on tap.”

“You got it.”

She pours my drink, and a guy sitting by the tap reaches out and grabs her arm. “How about doing a round of shots with me, sweetheart?” he says.

Maybe it’s the look in his eye or the way his fingers are gripping Lonnie’s arm, but I walk over to him, pushing my way through people, and stick my face in his. “Take your hand off her,” I say.

He does, but his face turns red with rage. “Who the hell are you?” he asks.

“Her friend. And if I see you touch her one more time, I’ll make sure you never set foot in this establishment again. You got it?”

“If she didn’t want this kind of attention, she wouldn’t work in a bar. Don’t delude yourself into thinking she’s anything more than a good time.” He slaps a twenty on the bar and storms out.

I take the stool he was formerly occupying, and Lonnie places my drink in front of me. “On the house. And thank you for that. That creep has been in here every night this week. Whenever I try to point him out to Caleb, the guy seems to disappear.”

“Next time you see him come in, alert Caleb or one of the other guys here immediately. You shouldn’t have to put up with that.”

She leans her arms on the bar top, and I can’t stop myself from gazing at her chest, which is popping out of the top of her shirt. I quickly look up again. “What’s your name?” she asks.

“David.”

She holds her hand out. “Lonnie. It’s nice to meet you.”

I don’t tell her everyone in the bar already knows her name. I’m not sure if she’d be flattered by that after her recent encounter with that touchy-feely asshole.

“You hungry, David? The kitchen is still open.” She motions over her shoulder to the kitchen.

“Actually, yes. I haven’t eaten.”

“How about a cheesesteak with all the toppings?” she asks.

“How did you know I like cheesesteaks?”

“It’s a gift.” She winks at me and disappears inside the kitchen to place my order.

“What’s your secret?” the guy on my left asks. He’s probably in his forties and has a receding hairline.

“Excuse me?” I ask, not sure what he’s talking about.

“I think she likes you.” He nods at Lonnie as she comes walking back to the bar.

“Nah. I just helped her out. I’m sure she’s nice to everyone. It’s part of her job, right?” I sip my porter.

“Yeah, but that’s your first beer and it’s on the house. She also winked at you. Lonnie doesn’t flirt with the men at the bar. She’s nice enough, sure. But she doesn’t flirt. I think she’s afraid of a bunch of drunken men getting the wrong idea.”

“Do you blame her?” I ask.

He laughs. “Nope, can’t say I do. Most of the guys in here are total assholes, like the one you drove off.”

I look up to see Lonnie staring at me. She smiles and blushes before looking away. Maybe this guy is right. Maybe Lonnie does have a thing for me.

“See?” he says. “You should ask her out.”

“I’m sure she gets asked out all the time.”

“Worried you’ll look like the rest of us trying to score dates with her?” He finishes his beer and puts a ten-dollar bill on top of the glass. “Trust me, you’ll kick yourself later if you don’t at least try.” He claps his hand on my shoulder and walks away.

Lonnie brings me my cheesesteak a few minutes later and sticks around to talk. “So, what are you doing alone on a Friday night? A guy like you must have a girlfriend.”

“None to speak of. I had no plans at all tonight and thought sitting home alone was worse than drinking away my sorrows.” I raise my glass to her and then take a sip.

“Recent breakup?” she asks.

“You are good. Is that a bartender thing?”

She hitches a shoulder. “I’ve always been very good at reading people. So how long ago did you two break up?”

“I’m not sure if we were ever truly dating in her mind, but it’s been a little while.”

“Still pining over her?”

“I’m not sure I’d put it in those exact words. More like wondering what I did wrong.”

She pours me another draft and places it on the bar. “What makes you think you did anything wrong?”

She’s right. I didn’t do anything wrong. Caring about someone can’t be wrong. “I don’t think I did.” I laugh. “Thanks for that.”

“I’m not working tomorrow night,” she says. “Do you maybe want to grab a bite to eat, somewhere that’s not a bar?”

She’s asking me out. I’m not used to being the one being pursued, and I have to admit I like how it feels. “Sure. I’d like that.”

“Great.” She reaches for my phone, which is next to my plate on the bar. “May I?”

I nod, and she picks it up. She types her number in, clicks a selfie, and then turns the screen to me so I can see the contact she created for herself.

“I should get back to serving my other customers before my tip meter goes down any further. Call me, though.” She smiles and walks to the other end of the bar.

I finish my cheesesteak, and for the first time in weeks, I’m excited by the idea of dating someone who isn’t Emily. I swivel around on the barstool, needing to use the restroom, when I spot Emily and that guy Sebastian in the back corner of the bar. I thought things between them were over, but I guess that was stupid of me. Seeing him with another woman must not have turned her away. Especially after we were assigned that column topic and she nearly melted down at having to give advice on committing to one person. Dating Sebastian must feel safer than ever in her mind.

I decide to pay my bill and leave, not wanting to chance running into Emily and having her think I’m following her on her date. It’s one thing to show up in the same place once, but twice will make me look like I’m stalking her, and I’m definitely not. I flag down Lonnie.

“You leaving already?” she asks me.

“Yeah, can I get my tab?”

“You didn’t hear? Cheesesteaks are free when you bail out the bartender.” She smiles.

“Okay, then you have to let me pay for dinner tomorrow night to make up for it.”

“Deal.” Her smile widens. “You have my number.” She picks up my empty plate and glass.

I place a ten on the bar for a tip. “Talk to you tomorrow.”

I walk out of Last Call without glancing back in Emily’s direction. Maybe this is exactly what I need to move on. Lonnie seems like a nice enough woman. I can’t deny she’s beautiful either. I head home, not worried about any tension between Emily and me. Now that I can tell her I’m going out with Lonnie, Emily might revert back to her usual self around me. And maybe we’ll both be able to move on.