Nineteen
Lola
The Bull’s Stern was a real local’s place.
We walked in, and it took several moments for my eyes to adjust. When they did, an array of burgundy-colored leather booths came into view. The eatery had a lively vibe. Patrons spoke animatedly; a DJ spun records. I shuffled my feet through a sawdust-strewn floor and then my gaze flicked up to the wall where oil paintings of Western scenes appeared—covered wagons, quarter horses ridden by men wearing cowboy hats.
Prominently displayed on a wall above the bar was a mounted bull’s head with a pair of black lace panties hanging from one horn. How utterly charming.
Dancers boogied down to the strains of pop music underneath an honest-to-god disco ball. This place had it all.
Justice’s hand touched mine. “Like it?”
I looked into his eager blue eyes and laughed. “I love it!”
A woman who looked like the blond in her hair came straight out of a bottle greeted us with a smile. “Table for two? Right this way.”
She swayed her skinny hips toward a corner booth and we settled in. “The prime rib’s looking awfully tasty tonight.” She winked. “Had me one before my shift. Goes good with the …” One chipped scarlet fingernail scanned the wine list. “… Cabernet Sauvignon.” This she pronounced “Sav-ig-non.” She smoothed her apron and winked again. “Year twenty-sixteen. Fresh wine. Just right.”
Justice picked up the menu and studied it with great concentration. Then he looked at me. “Two prime ribs? And the wine?”
“After the paces you put me through today, I’m wondering if that’ll be enough.” I tapped the table. “We’ll start with that.”
Our server made her way to the kitchen, and I picked up the table tent that advertised Homemade Apple Crumble. Just Like Mom’s!
“Lemme see that,” Justice said, taking the dessert menu. He covered his laugh with a hand. “No way is that dessert homemade.”
I grabbed the menu back and held it to my heart. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
We looked at each other and grinned. Jesus, this felt like a date, and I was suddenly nervous.
Our server appeared with two glasses of red-as-blood Cabernet. She set them down and I took a huge gulp. The precious liquid spread through my veins, and suddenly life was sweeter-than-sweet.
After a few minutes, the server slapped two plates of juicy prime rib on our table and asked, “Creamy horseradish or straight up?”
I gave my most demure smile. “Creamy horseradish for both.” My mouth watered as she slathered the meat.
“You two lovers enjoy.”
I rubbed my hands briskly. “Just what I need after our workout.”
We dug in.
“After dinner, we’ll head to the next town,” Justice said. He stabbed at his meat and sawed off a forkful. “It’s only an hour or so, and I know a place close to the surfing beach where we can stay.”
I chewed a decadent bite of baked potato with sour cream, bacon, cheese, and chives and set my fork down with a sigh. “I wasn’t a very good partner today.”
He patted my knee. “You were fine, honey. I like your spunk.”
My hands worked the napkin in my lap, twisting and tearing. “Sometimes I think I take after my dad too much.”
My papai was a passionate, fiery man taken to outbursts of temper. He always said it was cultural, but it embarrassed me that I’d been mean to Justice.
I stared at Justice for an overlong moment. “Do you think I’ve gained too much weight?”
He took a sip of water. “Is this a trick question? Are you going to ask me next if your jeans make you look fat?” He held my hand, and when he gazed at me with his sexy blue eyes, my pulse moved to my throat. His voice was soft. “I love your figure.”
“But I’m too heavy for the advanced moves.”
“You are not. We just need to practice more is all.”
We busied ourselves with dinner. As great as that apple crumble sounded, I promised myself I would skip dessert.
Justice picked up his wineglass, took a sip and set it down. “Papaw called today. Get a load of this. Ginger’s teaching him to dance.” He told me the story and shook his head. “Not sure if I’m ready to hear about my grandpa’s love life.”
I smiled at the rush of joy I felt for Justice’s granddad and my friend Ginger. “I think it’s sweet. He deserves it.” I took another sip of wine and felt giddy. “Bobbie’s not too keen on Ginger’s choice of part-time work, but I like it.” I set my glass down, placed both arms on the table and gazed at Justice. “If Ginger can be an exotic dancer, I can tandem surf.”
He raised his glass in a toast. “There you go.”
My iPhone buzzed from where it sat on the edge of the table. The caller ID read: Charlene. “It’s Mystic Seaweed!” I grabbed the phone so fast it nearly flew off the table.
“Charlene!”
“Hey there. Bad time?”
“Perfect time.” I covered one ear with my finger.
“Are you at a party?”
“No. Just a restaurant.” I pressed the phone harder to my ear as my heart thrummed. “What’s up?”
She let out a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry kiddo. Mystic Seaweed’s not going for your patterns. Our on-staff designer’s convinced them there’s not enough of a market for curvy designs.”
I bit my lower lip so hard I almost drew blood. “Darn. Any chance they’ll change their minds?”
She drew in a deep breath and let it out so hard I had to hold the phone away from my ear. “Doubtful. I’m sorry.” She hesitated. “Honey, your stuff’s gorgeous. If it were up to me …” I bit back tears. Damn it! This had been my chance. “… but we had a creative meeting today and … well, you know.” She let out a nervous giggle. “We’ve got one designer who thinks she’s god’s gift.” She lowered her voice. “Sometimes I wonder if she’s sleeping her skinny way right to the top.” She let out a hysterical laugh, and I wondered if maybe Charlene had been smoking her dinner. Her tone became conspiratorial. “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”
I looked at my lap. “Of course not.”
“Sorry kid.” Her tone became cheery. “Well. You enjoy your dinner, and I’ll talk to you later.”
I ended the call and sagged against the booth.
Justice’s eyebrows knit together. “Bad news?” I told him what happened. He leaned forward and held my hand, staring into my eyes. “You’ll see. You’ll outlast them all when you become wildly famous. I’ll bet your suits end up on the cover of a fancy fashion magazine one day.”
“You’re sweet.” I let out a long sigh. I couldn’t let this bother me. Justice and I had a contest to win. “It was a long shot anyway.”
He tipped my chin up and made me look into his sea blue eyes. “You and me? We’re gonna win this contest. Then you’ll have enough money to tell ‘em where to stick it.”
“You’re right.”
I smiled a shaky smile as the DJ cranked up the next tune; Michael Jackson’s “Don’t Stop ‘Til You Get Enough.” I knew it was one of Justice’s favorites. Maybe if we moved our bodies, I’d be able to shake off the feeling of disappointment.
I squeezed his hand and grinned. “Can you still do the Shimmy?”
He looked at the dance floor and pointed to himself and then to me. Then he jumped out of the booth so fast his wine glass nearly toppled over.
“What are we waiting for?” He held out his hand. “Let’s go!”
We ran, hand in hand, toward the dance floor and as the disco lights flickered down on our bodies Justice and I broke into our rendition of the Shimmy, a dance we’d practiced together so many times as teenagers. “Come on baby, shake those shoulders,” he yelled over the excitement of MJ’s hoots.
My body heated up with the passion of dancing with Justice, my heart beating wildly. We raised our arms in the air and shook our hips. Justice balanced on his toes and wiggled his knees. We bent forward until our faces were almost touching and I saw the sweat beading on his upper lip.
I was having a fantastic time! Who would’ve thought just a few weeks ago that I’d be here dancing with my high school sweetheart? Love and passion flowed through me. I wanted to kiss Justice, pull him to me, and feel his hot, sweaty body pressed up against mine.
In one graceful move, Justice fell to the floor and attempted a hilarious version of the worm. I broke into uncontrolled laughter and doubled over.
When I straightened, I nearly knocked over a man who stood directly behind me. I whirled around and jumped back with my hands up in front of me. “Whoa!” And then all the blood drained from my face as I stared directly into the self-righteous mug of Devin Stonebreaker, his green eyes glinting. His feet were planted wide, arms folded across his chest. As usual, Devin couldn’t go anywhere, even a country bar, without wearing designer jeans, a crisp shirt and dark sunglasses. He slowly lifted his glasses, resting them on top of his head. “Well, well. Fancy meeting you here. I thought that was Justice’s van out front.”
Devin’s wife Kristin stood at his side and gave me a little wave. “Hey, Lola.”
I liked Kristin. La Fortuna was a small town, and we’d been friends in school. Our lives were vastly different now, though. She spent her days shopping while I worked for a living. She seemed to enjoy Devin’s phony version of spunk. Or maybe he was just her golden-spoon rendition of a bad boy.
My voice was halting. “Hey, Kristin.” What the hell were Devin and Kristin doing here?
Justice flipped himself into a standing position, his hair askew. He quickly combed it back with one hand. “Devin? What the … what are you doing here?”
Devin’s eyebrows raised and he rubbed perfectly manicured fingernails against his shirt. “We were just in the neighborhood. Heard the meat was good here.”
Justice looked from Devin to Kristin. “What in … are you following us?”
Devin waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t flatter yourself.” He slithered a protective arm around Kristin. “Kristin and I are on the way to Knight’s Ferry.” His smile would’ve lit up the whole state if it weren’t so fake. “We’re in the Valentine’s Day tandem contest. Saw your van and thought we’d come in and say hello.”
Justice puffed his chest up and took a step toward Devin. “You what? How’d you know we were in the contest?”
Devin affected a surprised look, eyes wide. “You’re in the contest too? Oh, my. It looks like we just moved up a notch.” His eyes darkened. “Don’t be getting too cocky. Kristin and I have been surfing tandem for years.”
Blood pulsed through my veins and I poked a finger at Devin’s chest. “You saw me looking at the website the other day. The day you … you …” I looked at Kristin who stood mutely by her husband’s side. I wanted to slap that smirk right off Devin’s face when I thought of the way he’d as good as asked me to give him a blow-job at the Ritz-Carlton. Champagne brunch my ass.
Devin grabbed my finger and moved it to my side. “The day I what?” His eyes narrowed; his tone spewed a warning.
Justice jumped between us, his body rigid. “Don’t you touch her!”
Devin folded his arms. “Manners, Justice.”
A vein pulsed in Justice’s forehead. “What the fuck. You entered the contest?”
Devin’s eyes grew wide. “Do you have wax in your ears or did you not hear me the first time?”
Justice blinked rapidly. “You have no right.”
“I read the entry form and the way I see it, Kristin and I have every right. Free country last time I checked.”
Justice’s voice shook when he spoke. “This contest is ours. It’s our honeymoon.”
Devin threw his head back and laughed. “You sure know how to treat a lady, Justice. Where’d you have the rehearsal dinner? Taco Bell?”
Justice’s fists shook as he looked at Devin with an intense, fevered stare. His voice tremored with anger when he spoke. “You had better turn around and get your ass back home because Lola and I are going to knock you right out of the game.”
Devin jumped back an inch. “Maybe you will.” He leaned forward as he spoke through clenched teeth. “And maybe you won’t.”
A few of the diners set their utensils down and stared. Some whispered to each other.
Justice turned around and walked a few steps away, then he quickly moved back to Devin, his arms outstretched. Holy shit he’s going to shove him. I immediately jumped between the men, gripping Justice’s arms. “Stop!” I whispered into Justice’s ear through gritted teeth. “If you hit him, we’re finished. Let it go.”
Justice’s body sagged slightly. A vein popped out on his neck when he spoke. “Get ready for the contest of your life, buddy.”
Just then, our server high-tailed it to where our merry little band gathered on the dance floor, her pale skin red with the exertion. She inserted herself into the fray; her arm thrust out. “Take it outside you two! Want me to call the cops?”
Kristin’s eyes had gone wide, and she placed a firm grip on her husband’s arm. “Come on, honey. Let’s go. Giuseppe has our dinner ready.”
Devin said to the server, “Don’t be getting your panties in a bunch. We’re leaving.” He huffed out a breath and smoothed down his designer shirt. “That’s right baby. Escargot and a bottle of Dom Perignon to start.” He turned and gently kissed Kristin’s lips.
He glared at Justice and me, pointing in the direction of the parking lot. “I’ve got the best of everything for the contest. Kristin and I have a luxury Airstream.” He raised his fingers and counted. “Plus two RVs for my trainers, cooks, and masseuses.” He lifted his arms in a gesture of friendship and smiled. “Let’s call a truce. Want to join us for cocktails?”
“No.” Justice’s voice was a hiss. “We’ll pass.”
“Suit yourselves. See you on the road.” He turned on his heel and walked with a determined strut. He stopped midstride and called over his shoulder, “You think your family’s hot stuff? I cannot wait to see your face, Justice, when we win that hundred grand.”
They left, and when I touched Justice’s arm, his muscles quivered. “That son of a bitch.” He cracked his knuckles. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”