Nick:

Sunday is Ladies Movie Night at the Randy Goat. We screen a chick flick, and the popcorn is free. Ever since we started running the event a year and a half ago, the bar’s been packed without fail on an otherwise slow night.

Today’s no exception. The Thomas Crowne Affair is playing on the screen, and I’m busy pouring glasses of wine. It’s noisy enough that if anyone really wanted to watch the movie, they’re shit outta luck, but somehow, no one seems to mind.

This evening, Reva Burris and her friends are setting a new noise record. The five women have already gone through three bottles of wine, and we’re only an hour in. I shake my head, bracing myself for the moment when I’m going to have to cut them off. Reva is trouble. She and I had a one-night stand almost a year ago, and ever since then, she’s pursued me relentlessly. I seriously doubt that Reva’s actually interested in me. She just doesn’t like hearing the word ‘No.’

Tammy Shepard extracts herself from the group and comes up to the bar, a smile on her face. I grin as she settles herself on the stool in front of me. Unlike the rest of the women she’s hanging out with tonight, Tammy’s a sweetheart. “What’s your pleasure, kiddo?”

“Nick, do you have any champagne?”

“Not by the glass,” I tell her. “You’ll have to buy a bottle.”

“Share it with me?” Her eyes shine with happiness. “I’m celebrating today.”

I’ve done more than my fair share of sleeping around, but Tammy and I never hooked up. She’s too sweet and girl-next-door for my tastes, and she’s looking for a serious relationship. “What’s the occasion?”

“We’re going to be in the black this year. The stable is finally making money.”

“That does call for a celebration.” I pull a bottle of champagne from the refrigerator and pour it into two flutes. She pulls out her purse, and I wave it away. “On the house.”

Tammy runs a horse farm outside town, where she teaches adults and children how to ride. She opened it two years ago, and I know it’s been a long, hard struggle to get it up and running. I’m delighted that things are looking up for her.

“Thank you.” She takes the glass from me and clinks it against mine. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Reva glaring daggers at the two of us, and I suppress my annoyance. This shit is getting boring.

Tammy takes a sip of the bubbly, and smiles in appreciation. Whoops fill the air as Pierce Brosnan and Renee Russo make out on the screen, and she chuckles at my expression. “I’m surprised to find you here,” she says. “I thought Petra covered the bar on Sundays.”

Last Sunday, Petra stumbled upon Reva giving Derek Witt a blowjob in the back alley behind the Randy Goat. “I can’t handle this shit by myself, Nick,” she’d shuddered. “You’ve got to come in and read those women the riot act.”

Petra’s not an employee I want to lose, so I promised I’d cover her shift this week and keep an eye on things. “How come you’re hanging out with Reva?” I ask Tammy now. “This isn’t your usual crowd, is it?”

She makes a face. “I’m friends with Josie, who works for Reva. Reva invited her out, and Josie didn’t know how to say no. I’m here for moral support.”

I top off her glass. “Which one’s Josie? She’s new in town, isn’t she?”

“The blonde in the corner.” Her eyes twinkle. “Want me to introduce you?”

I survey the woman Tammy indicates, but I’m not feeling it. I haven’t felt that spark for a long time. “No thanks.”

“Just as well,” she replies. “Reva would probably go batshit crazy if you hit on Josie.” She slides off the stool. “Thanks for the drink and the conversation, Nick.”

I lift my glass in her direction. “Congratulations again, kiddo.”

* * *

Sean:

At ten in the evening, when I know the bar will be almost empty, I head to the Randy Goat. I’ve had a long, exhausting 48-hour shift at the fire station, and all I want is a drink, some food, and a chance to shoot the breeze with Nick.

“I can’t wait to hire a couple of full-time crew,” I groan.

“What’s the hold-up?” Nick sets a drink in front of me and pours himself one.

I grimace. “Eric Hardy persuaded the town council that no new spending decisions should be made until after the election. Or so I hear.”

My best friend shakes his head. “Elvira better win the election,” he remarks. “Hardy will be a disaster as mayor.”

“Tell me about it.” I take a sip of the top-flight Laphroaig and sigh appreciatively. Nick’s pouring the good stuff tonight. “How were the groupies today?” I tease. “I was afraid I’d run into the stragglers.”

Nick winces at the mention of the half-dozen women that hang around the Randy Goat, flirting with him and hoping he’ll take one of them to bed. “Thank heavens it’s over.”

“Admit it,” I needle him. “You like quiet nights. You’re bored of the mindless hookups. You’re not in your twenties anymore, and you’re ready to meet someone special.”

“What is this, a Nicholas Sparks novel?” Nick rolls his eyes. “Sean, buddy. If you want to find some chick to settle down with, knock yourself out. My life is fucking awesome.”

Right now, there are three main topics of gossip in town.

1. The upcoming mayoral election.
2. The Great Banana Bread Bake-Off, the hotly-fought annual contest between Marla Guthrie and Betty Beaumont.
3. Last but not the least, Nick’s dry spell. There’s never any shortage of women throwing themselves at him, but according to the town busybodies, Nick goes home alone, night after night.

Which is why I’m unconvinced by his protest. “If you say so.”

Nick changes the topic back to the fire station. “I thought town council already approved the budget increase,” he says. “You need to call Hardy out on his bullshit, buddy.”

My dad was the town drunk. Every evening, without fail, he lost his temper and got into a fight with someone. Not me. I’m determined not to let his legacy define me. “It’s just three months. We’ll make it work. I don’t want to get into a battle with Eric Hardy, not if there’s any chance he’ll win this election.”

As the chief of the fire station, I have to stay neutral, but Nick has no such restriction, and he’s part of Elvira Grantham’s campaign team. “I don’t understand why Eric Hardy’s even in the running,” he says, his voice frustrated. “Elvira has been the mayor for the last eight years, and she’s done a fantastic job. Tourism is up. Everyone’s making more money. ‘Embrace Your Weird’ was a fucking brilliant slogan. Hardy is a failed businessman with three bankruptcies to his name.”

A couple sitting at a back table get to their feet and stumble out, giggling like teenagers. I watch them go. “Isn’t that Lettie and Michael Herman?” I ask Nick when they’re gone. “They appear to be getting along well.”

Nick nods. “Isn’t love grand?” he asks dryly. “No matter what Lettie does, Michael still dotes on her.” His lips twist. “I don’t know if I should sneer at him for being a fool, or admire him for putting his heart on the line.”

There’d been a woman, six years ago… Nick had been there too, one of our rare threesomes. Hailey Martell.

It’d been a one-night stand, and I’d told myself that that’s all it could have ever been. Hailey lived in Portland; we didn’t. It would have been impractical to expect anything meaningful from a bar hookup. It would have been foolish to put my heart on the line, to tell her I wanted to see her again, to tell her I wasn’t ready for her to walk out of my life.

“The latter.” I take another slow sip of the Scotch, but this time, the beverage tastes like regret as it slides a fiery path down my throat.

Nick’s not paying attention; he’s looking at the empty bar. “That’s everyone,” he announces. “Might as well shut this place down for the night.”

“Are you kicking me out?”

He chuckles. “Not at all. You can help me clean up.” He tops off my glass. “Think of it as payment for the scotch.”

“The scotch I didn’t order?”

Nick ignores my token protest, lifting his head as the front door opens. “We’re clo…” he starts to say, but his voice trails off.

I look up, following his gaze, and I see the woman who’d been in my thoughts less than three minutes ago. For an instant, I wonder if she’s a figment of my imagination, but then she moves forward, an answering shock on her face.

“Hailey?”