Chapter Four

 

He showed up again at The Red Rose two weeks after the first time I met him. He was wearing a suit that set him apart from every other man in the room. It was navy, and underneath he wore a white shirt tucked into his pants. His dark brown belt matched his shoes and the brown leather watch around his left wrist. His hair was slicked back off his face, and as he floated through the bodies in the bar he shrugged out of his suit jacket. Even from a distance I could see the tightness of the white shirt on his muscular shoulders. I spotted him as soon as he walked in, and his eyes went directly to me after he handed his jacket over to the girl working the coat check booth. I held his gaze and smiled before returning my attention to the girl before me who had ordered twelve lemon drop shots. By the time I had placed them on a tray and handed them to her, he was standing at my bar, and the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to expose strong forearms. On the right arm, just beneath the rolled up sleeve, I could see about half an inch of dark ink from a tattoo.

I really liked when he stood at my bar. I could smell his pine and rain water scented cologne, and the view, of course, was exceptional.

“Hi,” I chimed, plucking a bottle of rum from the top shelf behind me. I held it out and wiggled it a bit.

He nodded and slid on to a stool slightly to my left and out of the way of the line up. “How’ve you been?” He asked, watching me pour his drink.

“Good, I’m finally falling into the swing of things here. And I think I remember all my coworkers names now, which is a bonus. I don’t have to refer to them just based on their hair colour anymore.”

That comment made him smile and I set out on a mission to see how many times I could make his dimples show like that during the evening. I handed him his drink and he took a mouthful, nodding his approval. “So, should I call you Brown Hair then, or are you going to tell me your name?”

“Alice,” I said. “And you are?”

“Jack.”

“Nice to meet you, Jack,” I said.

“Likewise. You said you just moved out here last time I saw you. Where from?”

“New York.”

“Wow. Now it all makes sense. You definitely have the city look about you.”

I laughed as I crammed a lime wedge down the neck of a corona bottle and passed it off. “Oh? What makes you say that?”

“The jeans you’re wearing. The jewellery. The hairstyle. It all makes a lot more sense now.”

“You calling me shallow?” I asked, skepticism coloring my voice.

“No, no,” he held up his hands as if to show that he was innocent. “None of it is bad, it’s just not… common in these parts.” He cast a look around the room as if to say, ‘isn’t it obvious?’. Then he crossed his arms on the bar. “Anyways. What brought you to Chicago? Family here or something?”

“No, just wanted a fresh start. My best friend and I moved here together. And I mean, once I saw this place I knew this is where I was meant to be.”

He laughed again and his dimples sprang to life on his cheeks. I felt my stomach swirl and I had to look away from him. “So you don’t really know anyone in the city?”

“Nope,” I said, “everything here is new to me.”

“Well, if you’re up to it, I would love to show you around the city. Maybe take you to some good places to eat?”

I leaned on the counter and pushed one of my hips out. I gave him my best coy smile and shrugged. “My roommate says I’m not allowed to date anyone.”

“Is your roommate also your mother?”

“Nope, worse, best friend.”

“So… tell her you have to work? Or tell her I’m a co-worker. Unless you really don’t want to be seen in public with me. Then by all means, just say so. No need to string a guy along like this.” His tone was playful and I couldn’t help but smile.

“You free tomorrow?” I asked.

“I’ll pick you up at six.”

“It’s not a date,” I clarified, raising a finger to him.

“God no. I wouldn’t date a city girl anyways. They’re too shallow.” I laughed and he winked at me. It was a playful sort of wink and his eyes crinkled in the corners from his smile, and for some reason he just made me feel at ease.

As I continued making drinks for customers we continued to talk.

“I’m in sales,” he said, when I asked him what he did for a living.

Hence the suit and the significant amount of swagger in his walk. “Oh? What kind of sales are you in?”

“Real Estate,” he said, taking a mouthful of his drink. “Mostly the sales of commercial and industrial properties.”

I imagined he probably made a decent living. I would have bought a broken down golf cart off of him if he told me it was a good idea.

“What made you get into bartending?” His question threw me off. From anyone else it would have sounded condescending, but I could see the genuine curiosity in his eyes and they held no judgement of me.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I like busy work. I like people, most of the time. And sometimes I make really good cash. Overall it’s not a bad gig. But I realize it’s not really a long term career. I guess I’m still clinging desperately to my youth.”

“You don’t look like you need to cling to it.” He didn’t try to hide the obvious up down his eyes made of me. The corner of his mouth curled upwards and his eyes lingered for a moment on my chest.

“Thank you,” I said, resisting the urge to twirl my hair like a high school girl. I turned my back to him to grab a bottle of Curacao for another customer. I could feel his eyes on me and I didn’t mind. The shirt I wore exposed some of my midriff. My pants hugged my hips like they were painted on me. He could stare all he wanted.

“Is there something you’ve always wanted to do instead of bartend?” He asked when I turned my attention back to him.

“Lots of things, actually. That’s my problem. Too many ideas, not enough self discipline to make any of it happen.”

He shrugged. “Then it’s not the right thing. The right thing will just happen some time and you won’t even realize it until it’s too late. Just watch. I have a sixth sense for these kind of things, and you are made for greatness.” He checked me out again.

“Oh yeah? Is that your classic damsel in distress advice?” I laughed.

He rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, sometimes I have a hard time turning it off.”

“Don’t turn it off,” I said, “sometimes it’s nice to have a man say things like that.”

“Oh yeah?” One of his eyebrows crept up towards his hairline.

“Yeah, sometimes.” It had been a while since a man made me feel attractive. I felt my cheeks turning red.

“Well, in that case,” he said, “I feel compelled to tell you that you are far too beautiful to be working here.”

The butterflies that were swirling to life in my belly reminded me that I was doing exactly what I had told Brooke I wouldn’t do. She had seen this coming a mile away. I thought of my walk in closet and ensuite and window bench. I loved that room. But Jack’s dimples and his smile and his eyes made me forget about the luxuries of the master bedroom and come to terms with the fact that it may not be so bad to move into the smaller room. I could paint over the periwinkle blue that Brooke had chosen. I could add some wallpaper to one of the walls. I could make it mine.

As Brooke had said, if I wanted it, I would get it.

“Listen,” Jack said, pulling me from my thoughts of the lecture Brooke was bound to give me. “I’m having a good time. Do we really need to wait for tomorrow to have our ‘it’s not a date’ date?”

“I’m still on shift for another two hours.”

“This stool is pretty comfortable, the drinks are good, and the company is even better. The view… I could stare at all night. I’m willing to wait.”

So he waited. We continued to talk as I worked. My tip jar definitely didn’t see as much action as it usually did. I couldn’t blame people for that. They didn’t get my full attention, as they should have. I probably made fifty percent of the drinks wrong. My mind was so wrapped up in Jack and I was consumed by our conversations that I barely paid attention to what I was doing. I tried to put an orange wedge on someone’s bloody mary and I salted the rim of someone else’s bellini. I called it a Saltini, which Jack thought was funny. The customer just frowned at me and I was forced to make them a new one.

When the house lights came on at the end of the night Jack was just polishing off the Saltini. “The salt actually isn’t that bad with it. I swear. It could be the new girl’s drink. I bet Max would go for it.”

“You know the owner?” I asked.

“Yeah, we go way back. He’s a good guy.”    

“I’ll take your word for it.”

I stood and waited as Jack collected his jacket. The girl with the blue pixie cut, Claire, caught my eye and gave me a curious stare. Then she placed her hand over her heart and did a convincing charade of being struck in the heart by cupid. I covered my mouth to stop myself from laughing. She continued to enact several goofy depictions of love. At the end, she also mouthed the words ‘be careful’, to which I was reminded of our conversation the other night.   

When she turned around to leave Claire walked face first into a tall man. I watched her stumble, and he caught and steadied her. I couldn’t make out much of him through the throng of people trying to push their way to the door. As Claire wove around him I caught a glimpse of blonde hair, blue eyes, and a familiar gray tie with a soft striped pattern.

I could recognize that tie anywhere. 

Jack was shrugging into his jacket and asking me a question. I couldn’t hear him. I stretched up on to my tiptoes to try to get a better look at the blonde man on the other side of the bar. He was standing still and he was facing me, as if he was waiting for someone.

Then he slowly turned and put his back to me. He had broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He looked over his shoulder, almost right at me, and I caught a glimpse of stubble on his square jaw. I could see a faint smile on his lips even though I only had half a profile of his features.

He disappeared as quickly as he appeared. I swallowed a lump that had formed in my throat and released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

Jack’s gentle touch on my elbow made me flinch. “Are you alright” He asked.

His voice sounded far away. I forced myself to nod. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

“Do you want to go find them?”

“No,” I sputtered, “no, it’s okay. Let’s get out of here.”