by Maria Xystra
“Dude, seriously? Mojo?” Cole returns with our drinks and wastes no time to make fun of Alex.
“Can you blame me?” Alex explains. “Since the moment I met Lexy, I’ve turned into a 19-year-old,” he adds and smiles at me before taking a sip of his beer.
“Don’t worry, Lexy likes younger boys. She can easily relate to their mentality,” Cole asserts, winking at me. What? I just want to burry my head in my hands. However, Cole’s words don’t really surprise me. I’ve heard worse. Fuckable. The word echoes in my head and I instantly switch to being angry at him.
“Who’s being a 19-year-old now?” I retort. And before he can answer that, I continue. “And not to be rude or anything, but if you’re done serving our drinks, you can go interrupt another table. Oh, look! There! Those ladies are screaming for your attention. Go grace them with your presence.”
Cole gives me a half-smile and looks over his shoulder to the table I pointed at. “Don’t mind if I do,” he sings and turns to leave. He pauses and lowers his head to us. “Can I see some identification please? I don’t serve alcohol to underaged customers.”
“Can you please leave?” Before I grab your head and smash it on the table? Or before I grab your head and devour your divine scent? I mentally slap myself for thinking that. Meanwhile, I notice Cole discreetly checking Alex out and his eyes land on the other man’s wrist. I subtly follow his gaze for the briefest of seconds and I only notice Alex’s watch and a black, handmade bracelet. Instinctively, I bring my fingers to my locket chain.
“Sure, I’ll come back later,” he hurries to threaten us.
“Or not,” I fake smile at him and take my drink. As he walks away, I turn to Alex.
“Sorry about that. Again!”
“You seem to be apologizing for him a lot. Is he a friend of yours?”
“Well, I wouldn’t actually call him a friend-”
“There seems to be casualness between you two. Do you go way back?”
I was taken aback by the realization of Alex’s words, concerning mine and Cole’s relationship. The truth is we do function like we’ve known each other for years, whereas it’s only been a few weeks.
“Not really. It’s just the way we interact.”
“Hmmm. That’s nice,” Alex politely remarks.
“Yes, that’s actually pretty nice. It’s either this kind of interaction or just physical violence.”
He laughs at that.
“But enough about him; Tell me about you,” he says and a spark – of interest I assume – lights up his eyes.
“What do you want to know?” I tune in a hint of seductiveness.
“Everything,” he answers and grins.
*****
While the conversation with Alex progresses, I can’t ignore Cole’s regular checks from across the bar. I glanced at him a couple of times, to let him know that I know he’s looking at us, but I try to be subtle enough not to offend Alex.
Still mad, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Cole isn’t just curious about my date. His glances carry a different vibe. Trying to decipher it, he looks at me again and I notice a wary expression in his eyes that grows deeper and deeper by the minute.
Before I get the chance to draw my eyebrows together and ask him ‘what?’ with my eyes from across the room, Alex repeats his question.
“So, what would you do in my place? I mean, I was offered twice the money I made in my old firm, plus a place to stay. And to be honest, I had nothing keeping me in Seattle. The people I’ve met here are far more interesting than the ones I left behind,” he says, completing his remark with a wink.
I smile back and play with the straw in my drink.
“Yeah, I get it. When I first came here, I thought it would be difficult to fit in and meet new people, but it was the exact opposite. I was wondering if I made the right choice, but now I’m sure I could not have done any better.”
“So, you’re new in town, too?” he asks me.
“Not exactly, I’ve been here for about five years.”
“Oh, were you offered a job here, too?”
“After college, I came to stay with a friend and applied for an internship in the firm I now work for. Being that awesome, thank you very much,” I add with mocking cockiness, “I was offered a job in three months.” We smile and clink our drinks.
“I’m not surprised. I’m guessing the friend you’re staying with is the one I met at the bar?”
“Yeah, Sam.” I turn to her and she seems to be laughing at Cole with something Eric said. I smile and turn to Alex. “But I’ve got my own place since then.” This might have sounded a bit arrogant, but I can’t help feeling proud that at the age of 27, I have a steady job and my own apartment. No financial support from daddy.
“How did you two meet?” Alex wonders.
“We were studying together at UCLA and we’ve been best friends ever since.”
“That’s nice. So, where do you originally come from?”
Florida, I reply in my head. And then I tune in the back story I came up with when I changed my name and background.
“New York,” I lie. Yes, I’m originally from Florida. That’s where I was born, that’s where I grew up and that’s the life I ran from on my eighteenth birthday, nine years ago. For everyone else – besides Sam and a carefully selected few – I’m from New York and I lived a happy life there until both my parents died. Feeling uncomfortable with the spotlight on me and the fact that I need to lie, I turn the attention to him.
“What about you? Is Seattle your hometown?”
“No, no. I was born in Florida as a matter of fact, but my folks moved to Seattle when I was twelve. Have you ever been to Florida?” he asks and takes a sip.
“Yeah, like a couple of times,” I answer indifferently. “Cute place,” I try to end this discussion here. “I like the West Coast more though. That’s why I chose to stay here.”
“Right. What about your family?” he asks. Now, I’m starting to feel the unease building up inside me. Is he filling in a background form on me? I suddenly feel like I’m under some kind of interrogation; probably because I don’t like sharing my stigmatized past with others.
“My parents died in a car crash right after I finished high school,” I answer and crack the knuckles of my hands to push my stress away. I glance at Sam and Cole, Sam is talking with Eric – getting a bit too intimate for a public place – and Cole is on the phone, as always. Now would be a good time to come and interrupt us. Please?
“What about any brothers or sisters?”
Yeah, a sister named Lydia, six years younger than me, currently studying in New York, who should actually contact me within the next few days or I’ll start worrying.
“None,” I reply and casually check my phone.
“So, you’re like a runaway who came here to start your life over?”
Exactly. OK, either Alex is getting too interrogative or he knows something. Or, I’m totally freaking out with all these questions.
“Not a runaway. Just someone with nothing holding me back,” I answer trying to sound as chilled as I can.
“So, what’s ‘Lexy’ short for?” he asks for my name’s origin.
‘Lexy’ is short for ‘Alexandra’. Alexandra Doukas. But given that I had to change my name, I went for ‘Davis’ as it is a pretty common last name.
“Lennox Davis,” I lie again and really try to smile this time. As I brace myself for his next question and mentally prepare to reply with ‘what’s with all these questions?’, his phone rings – oh! Thank God!
“Excuse me, I have to take this,” he says and gets off his chair.
“Sure.”
As soon as he’s out of sight, I finish my drink in two gulps and I turn towards the bar. Sam leans over the bar to kiss Eric and Cole…is now sitting on Alex’s chair.
“Now you decide to show up?” I accuse him.
“How is it goi- Wait! What? What happened?” In just a second he changed his teasing tone to on
e of alert.
“Nothing happened,” I tell him. Unavoidably, his talk with Eric comes back into mind and an exasperated sigh escapes me before I could hide it.
“Come on, you can talk to me. Is he being a complete, arrogant douchebag?”
“No, that would be you! He has been great, and he’s gonna come back any minute now so…” I finish my sentence by waving goodbye at him.
“Or maybe…I should stay here and get to know him.”
“Or maybe…you should go find a fork and stick it in your eye!” I tell him and can’t help smiling at the idea.
“I prefer to stay here and-”
“Nope! My idea is better!”
“Your idea sucks,” he says and gets up. “And so does your date,” he whispers to me and then turns to Alex as he approaches the table. “Hey Alex, another round of drinks?”
“No, as a matter of fact I need to go,” he turns to me apologetically. “Something’s come up, I need to help a friend with some car trouble.”
“Oh, nothing serious I hope?” I ask him.
“No, it’s fine. I just need to…you know I wouldn’t leave if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Could I get a rain check?” he reaches for his wallet and retrieves a couple of bills.
“It’s on the house,” Cole says and taps him on the back once.
The two men exchange glances – Cole’s reaction startling, but I’m the only one who notices. It’s like a veil of hostility has covered him and I can practically sense him stiffen. I’ve seen him angry before – trust me, I barged into his office and pretended to be his girlfriend, remember? – but this is completely different. And it’s not an antagonistic reaction either. It’s…something else; something else entirely.
“I’ve got this,” Alex says, and he leaves the money on the table. “I’ll call you, beautiful,” he winks at me and departs.
Making my way to the bar, I feel Cole’s eyes on me, as if he’s trying to invade my mind and listen to my thoughts. Or maybe he’s waiting for me to snap and burst into tears for being left so early by my date. Not likely.
Especially after Alex’s grilling, it’s rather convenient that he had to go. His questions threw me into a dark room with high walls and that claustrophobic feeling of suffocation is not welcome. Plus, thinking of Lydia had me worried as she hasn’t contacted me in a while, and on top of that, Cole…exists! His presence has found a way to influence me and I find it harder and harder to control myself when he’s around. Physically and mentally. So, yeah! His existence bothers me! Hasn’t it ever happened to you?
“How’s- Where’s Alex?” Sam brings me back to earth.
“He got a call and had to go,” I simply state.
“Oh. Do you wanna go, too?” she makes a move to get off her stool.
“I’ll go, you stay here. I’m kind of tired anyway.”
“I’ll drive you. We came here together, remember?” she insists.
“I’ll just get a cab, don’t worry,” I reassure her and turn towards the exit.
“Did something happen?” Sam asks and I’m sure she already knows the answer to this.
“Are we still on for tomorrow night?” I deflect her question with one of my own.
“Ladies’ night out? Of course! You, me and Layla!” she sings, and excitement is pouring from her, which I don’t really get, since we’re used to doing this pretty often. But then again, it’s been a couple of months since the last time we had a proper girls’ night out. Her excitement is contagious.
“Can’t wait! See you tomorrow then.”
“Come on, Tipsy, I’ll drive you home,” Cole appears in front of me.
“It’s OK, I’ll get a cab. Thanks,” I answer bitterly.
“Are you sure? I can-”
“I said I’ll get a cab,” I repeat and pass him by to walk to the door. I hear Eric laughing and saying:
“Oh wow! We found a woman immune to and actually repulsed by Cole! Hollaaaaa! Bye, Lex!” he yells from behind the bar.
I turn and give him a smile and wave goodbye. With the corner of my eye, I notice one of the women from the table Cole visited earlier walking towards him. Brunette, pretty and nicely tanned. Of course.
CHAPTER 15
Alex opens the door and waits for me to walk out of ‘Nirvana’. As we step onto the street, Alex takes me by the waist and walks me to my car.
“I’m sorry I have to leave in such a hurry,” he says.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“We’re definitely doing this again. I owe you a proper date.”
I smile and open the door to my car. It instantly closes with a thud, and I feel someone behind me locking me in place with a hand on the door. On the window I see Cole’s reflection standing right behind me, and I turn to face him. Alex is no longer in the picture.
“Cole?”
“Are you sure about this, Lexy?”
“Sure about what?” I try to make sense of the situation and I feel like I’m in a swamp struggling to keep myself from being pulled under. There’s something I fail to grasp concerning his question. Sure about what?
He takes a step and closes the distance between us. He leans towards me and I wonder whether he is about to say something or kiss me. Either way, I tense. Cole parts his lips and, in a moment that seems to be dragging for hours, my breathing becomes heavy and I get ready to give into him, body and soul.
“Dzzzz.” What?
“Dzzzz.” Where’s this buzzing coming from? Cole?
“Dzzzz.” WTF?
I abruptly open my eyes and try to adjust to the morning light coming through my window. I reach for my phone on the night stand.
Dzzzz. It vibrates in my hand as I bring it to my ear.
“Hello? Cole?” I pick up the line and close my eyes again. Wait- Did I just answer my phone with ‘hello, Cole’ without even checking who the caller is?
I hear chuckles on the other end of the line. Familiar, sexy, hair-rising chuckles.
“Hey, Tipsy!”
“What? Cole?” I try to recover from my sleep.
“Are you still sleeping?”
“What time is it?” I ask hoarsely.
“It’s 9:30.”
“In the morning? Are you insane?”
“I’ve been called worse,” I can hear the smile in his voice. “So, listen. I need to talk to you. Come by sometime today.” His tone gets serious and this wakes me up completely.
I sit up in bed and switch my mode to ‘worry’.
“What happened?” I demand quickly.
“Nothing happened, don’t worry,” he tries to calm me down. “I just want to have a chat with you.”
“What’s this about?” I ask suspiciously.
“Just come, Tipsy.”
After a long, exaggerated sigh, I agree to meet him.
“Fine, what time should I be there?”
“Say…noon? Afternoon.”
“This had better be serious,” I warn him grumpily.
“I’ll see you then.”
We hang up and I just sit there, staring outside the window, not actually looking at anything. That was weird.
As I take a shower, I go through every possible reason Cole might want to talk to me. The only reason I come up with is work.
And then I remember that I’m mad at him. Furious, to be precise.
His chat with Eric has rendered me numb.
How dare he?
My now least favorite word echoes in my head.
Fuckable.
I clench my jaw and attack my hair with shampoo.
‘Angry’ mode: on.
*****
The breeze is hotter than usual and my palms are sweating as I step into Cole’s bar. The doors are unlocked, but the bar is not open yet. Twenty minutes after twelve. Hopefully, Cole is here so I won’t have to wait for him. No one is in sight. No Eric, no Cole, or anyone else. I should have waited at least another hour or so for the bar to open, but the truth is…well, I couldn’t.
&
nbsp; I start to call for him, but a noise coming from his office gets my attention. I walk towards it and find the door open just a crack.
“Cole?” I ask with hesitation, and slowly push the door open.
It’s like I stepped right in the middle of a movie set. A porn-movie set. Time freezes and in milliseconds I – unfortunately – get the whole picture in. Cole, on the side of his desk, completely naked. His upper torso sweaty, tattooed and gorgeously carved with muscles. A pair of legs is wrapped around his waist. Legs belonging to a beautifully tanned brunette. Last night’s brunette.
As I try to pull myself together, Cole lifts his eyes to me. A series of emotions flow across his features. Surprise, confusion, realization, embarrassment, regret. Half a second later his mask of coolness and indifference slips in place.
“Care to join us, Tipsy?” he says leaning closer to his co-star, looking at me with his hazel eyes through some loose strands of hair falling down his face. My knees turn into jell-o simply by looking at him and I surprise myself by not being able to form any sort of answer. Startled, I turn to leave.
“I’ll be outside. Get this over with,” I bark at him and slam the door.
‘Furious’ mode: on.
I go straight to the bar and decide that I’m now officially authorized to pour myself a drink.
I can’t block the images printed in my head and them flashing before my eyes causes me to shake in rage.
As I lean against the bar, hands gripping the edge firmly, Cole appears – in his jeans only.
“Sooo, how are you today?” he starts to make small talk.
I barely lift my eyes to him as I take a big gulp of my drink.
“Isn’t it a bit early for alcohol?” he asks me as he pulls his hair in a knot at the back of his head. The mere motion makes my hackles stand on end.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” I state.
“I think,” he starts and sits on a stool, “Tipsy was spot on!”
I fake smile at him and play with my drink.
“Vodka at the office, bourbon at noon…maybe you should get some help,” he comments kindheartedly.