Chapter 3

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This bar is one that I know only too well, only for the wrong reasons. It’s because of its location near the high school that my friends and I used to try to sneak in here all the time. Now I don’t even need to show identification.

I was going to leave the reunion early, as I’d shown my face, listened to small talk, and needed to get out of there. However, when Clark caused that waitress to stumble and drop the glasses, I felt something else entirely.

I knew I had a reason to stay if only to see if the attractive waitress could leave her shift early. Fortunately, she’d managed, so now we are here.

She is stunning as she sits beside me. Her long brown hair is tied back in a ponytail because of her job. Even though she wears loose jeans and a loose blouse, again for work, I can tell that she has a fit body, one typical of an L.A. beach girl.

But it’s her eyes that caught me. They are the most beautiful shade of hazel I have ever seen. They’re also deep, too, as if she is hiding a secret. Something that she doesn’t want anyone else to know. I can’t stop staring into them.

“So, you’re from around here then?” She asks as she takes a sip of her beer. We’re sitting in the back on the bar, hidden from the drunken locals who currently populate it.

“What makes you say that?” I ask with a coy smile as I take a swig from my own drink, a vodka soda. The fact that she ordered a beer has me impressed, though. If it wasn’t for the fact that I ordered first, I would have gotten the same.

“Well, you led me here like you come here all the time. Either that or you have built-in radar for local, crummy bars. Plus, I mean, you were at the high-school reunion. So, obviously, you went to school here.”

“Perceptive,” I say, smirking. “I used to live in the area, and I used to come here a lot, when I could get in. Would you be surprised if I told you it hasn’t changed at all?”

“I think I would be more surprised to find out that it had changed.” She smiles at her own joke. It’s the first time that I’ve seen it, and it only makes her more beautiful.

“Not much does around here,” I respond as I chuckle at her joke. “I swear the bartender has looked eighty-five for the past fifty years.” I indicate to the bartender, currently cleaning a glass with a dirty rag. He looks like he could be anywhere between fifty and a hundred.

“Does that include you?” She asks. “Did you wear expensive suits and watches when you were in high school? Boy, I bet that made you popular.”

“No, no. I was more of a basketball shorts, T-shirt kind of a guy in high school. With the occasional button down, when I was feeling fancy.”

“Oh, that is fancy,” she jokes as she takes another sip of her beer, more of a swig than a sip really. “So, what do you do that allowed you to swap the shorts for suits?”

I hesitate. As mentioned, I’m not big on telling people what I do, at least not when I first meet them. And if it was anyone else, then I probably wouldn’t have said anything.

But there is something different about Carrie. I find myself wanting to impress her, which is odd for me.

“I’m a film producer.”

“Really?” She asks, instantly perking up. “What kind of films? Anything I’ve seen?”

“I’d be surprised,” I admit. “I mainly do independent films. But I’m looking to expand.”

“Still, that’s pretty amazing.”

“You think so?” I ask as I take another sip. As I do, I keep my eyes trained on her, making sure to catch her own.

“Anyone who does what they love for a living is impressive,” she counters. “I wish I could do that.”

“What do you do?” I ask.

It’s small talk, but for some reason it doesn’t seem that way. It feels like we’re creating a connection more than anything. I have known her for less than an hour and yet if you were to ask me now, I would swear it was longer.

“You know what I do,” she says coyly, offering me a wink as she sips on her drink.

“Apart from working for the number-one caterer in L.A.?”

“I’m a writer,” she says. “Or at least, I’m trying to be one.”

“Trying?”

“Well, I will be one, I mean. It just takes time, and practice, and more time.”

I can tell that it’s a sensitive subject for her. So naturally I push.

“Anything worth doing takes time,” I tell her. “That’s how you know it’s worth it.”

“And was it that way for you?” She asks. She sounds as if she doesn’t believe me, or doesn’t want to anyway.

“Of course. The first movie I produced took two years, and I lost money. But I used that experience to make another and another, and, well, now you’ve seen the suit.” I flick the lapel on my suit, and she laughs as I do. It’s a sweet laugh, one that I want to hear again.

“Okay. I’ll take your word for it. For now. But if it doesn’t work out for me. I’m going to blame you.”

“Deal.”

***

We have been in the bar for at least three hours. But the conversation has been effortless and free flowing. There have been no gaps, no awkward pauses.

Everything that has been said has been built off previous conversation, I can sense myself getting to know her on a deeper and more intimate level.

It’s strange, but as I glance at my watch, seeing that the night is about to come to an end. My dick twitches at the thought of taking her home and fucking her stupid.

“So, what are your plans after this?” I ask casually.

As I do, I take a sip of my beer. I switched it up after my first drink.

“After the bar? Well, seeing as it’s almost two in the morning, I’m guessing that bed is on the horizon. Or at least Netflix and bed.”

“As great as that sounds. I think that you should come home with me instead.”

I’m straight forward in the way I say it, almost making it so she can’t say no. It’s a trick I had learned from my long years of playing the field.

“Is that right?” She responds, sounding more intrigued than anything.

“Yes. I don’t like the idea of you making your way home in your current state. It’s dangerous, and I wouldn’t forgive myself if anything happened to you.”

“As honorable as that sounds, I think I’ll pass,” she responds. “I’m not that easy. And besides, I require a real date before I go home with a man. One where the location doesn’t smell like stale carpet and bad decisions.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’m counting on it.”

As she finishes her drink, she holds back a small burp, and it’s the cutest thing I think I have ever seen. It is right then that I know I’m going to call her. There’s nothing that will be able to stop me.