Blue

by Sarah Jayne Carr

  “Yeah, well it was a shock to me and made me nauseated as fuck too.” I looked at my reflection and gathered my hair up into a messy bun, affixing it with the pen from my bag.

  A hearty splash of vomit hit the toilet water, accompanied by a round of dry heaves.

  I frowned. “I don’t know whether I should confront her. Whether we should…”

  “I think I need to be alone for a few minutes. To process.”

  I stared at the stall door, feeling alone and defeated. So much for being a team. “You don’t want to talk about this? Mom’s a raving lunatic who—”

  “Go, Blue,” she said. “I can’t deal right now. Everything around here’s been too much lately.”

  Too much? Was she serious? As much as I didn’t want to admit it, Daveigh’s fucked up relationship with Gonorrhea Guy…I mean Beanbag…I mean Wesley was more normal than the one I’d been in with Cash. If she only knew what I’d endured, she’d realize her problems were trivial in comparison.

  She didn’t even let me get to bullet point number four and ask why she wasn’t working as a barista at the coffee stand anymore. However, I knew better than to continue onward with bombarding her. It wouldn’t help matters. I just hoped her hang-up didn’t have anything to do with Rent-A-Cop Gene.

  With slumped shoulders, I walked back out of the bar bathroom and let the door swing shut behind me without saying goodbye. It seemed like whichever way I turned, there was a road block to deter me. Every fucking family member was clammed up or screwed up. There was no in-between. Like a hamster in a habit trail, I continued hitting dead end after dead end.

  Tired of thinking, I needed a break. Steele Falls was some weird parallel universe and things didn’t make sense anymore. There was no new normal to achieve. Fuck. There was no old normal. In that moment, all I wanted to do was forget. Everything. Even if it were only temporary. And I was in the place to do it. I didn’t need Daveigh. I didn’t need Beanbag. I didn’t need Cash. I didn’t need Lucy. I could hang out with my good friend Jim Beam by myself. I didn’t have a car to worry about. I could drive myself home by way of my own two feet. The answer was loud and clear as I looked to the left and saw my savior, Santi. Bring on the alcohol.

  I headed up to the bar with mixture of determination and anger fueling my pace. Lucy spotted me from the corner of her eye, but she continued talking to Beanbag in hushed tones. Every so often, she’d glance at me and then look away. Not at all subtle. I tried to read her lips, but couldn’t make out what she said with her glass of wine nearly glued to her mouth like she was practicing for Santi’s whistle. Giving myself a onceover, I made sure my ass wasn’t hanging out of my pants and my boobs weren’t on display. It was incredible. I’d known Lucy for less than twenty-four hours, and she was able to make me feel insecure about myself.

  Santi was behind the counter, tightening the lid on a bottle of cheap vodka. He looked up at me with the same coy grin I recalled. “I remember you. You were the one here with Lucy last night. How are—”

  “Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Enough small talk,” I replied. “I’ll take a shot of Jim Beam.”

  He wiped the oak bar top in a circular motion with a white towel. “We’re all out.”

  “Of course, you are.” I smirked. Could this day get any better? “How the hell does a bar run out of JB?”

  “The party in the banquet room has sucked us dry tonight. They’re like fish back there. Another shipment doesn’t arrive until tomorrow,” he said.

  “Cloud Nine then,” I replied.

  “Sorry, beautiful. All out of that too. I’ve got Bulls Eye, French Kiss, and,” he glanced at the shelves behind him, “Alejandro’s.”

  I scrunched my nose. “No, thanks. I’m picky. How about an Orgasm instead, please?”

  “Just one?” a nearby voice startled me. “I’m willing to bet I can bring you to a double or a triple, no problem.”

  I turned around and saw Zack sitting next to me, serious gray eyes observing my face, softened only by the curve of his flirtatious smile. A deep dimple appeared on each of his cheeks. That night, he wore a white linen button-up shirt and khaki pants.

  I did nothing more than sigh to convey my mood.

  “So, what’s new, Trixie? I mean Blue.” He took careful measure in squeezing the oversized lime slice into his gin and tonic while shielding me from being squirted.

  “Not tonight.” I downed my drink, not bothering to taste it before I turned my attention back toward the bartender. “Another please, Santi.”

  “Bad day?” Zack asked. “I mean, I already know how your morning went. Hopefully, you were able to get some relaxation downtown before coming to The Fill & Spill tonight.”

  I pursed my lips before I downed the second shooter with a grimace and full-body shudder.

  “Slow down there, sunshine.” He laughed as he grabbed for my miniature glass. “I’m all for feeling good, but we don’t want you passed out on your face in a matter of minutes. Let the last one take hold before you dive into the next. When was the last time you ate?”

  “Yesterday, I think,” I replied. “I can’t remember.”

  “Santi, order up this girl a grilled cheese and fries.” Zack’s attention turned back toward me again. “You’ll thank me later. I can feel it.”

  “Yeah, well I have mixed drinks about feelings.” I sighed. “Let’s just say I’m ready to leave and go back to Sacramento. Tonight.”

  “That must’ve been one hell of a day. Do you want to talk about it? I’ll keep you company.”

  Warning sirens went off in my head loudly. I fumbled for an excuse, my mind already reeling from the alcohol. Zack being in the same room screamed danger to me, and him being on the next barstool over made it even worse. Don’t get me wrong. He was good looking. Scratch that. Most women wouldn’t have turned down his advances to clink glasses and shake asses. But I knew his type, and I had zero interest in a hump and dump. Cash was a big enough mistake, and I wasn’t looking for history to repeat itself.

  “I…I can’t. My friends are over there.” I pointed in the direction of Daveigh’s table. Calling them “friends” seemed like a long shot, and I didn’t know if I’d be accepted if I walked back to where they sat. I’d shunned Beanbag, yelled at Lucy, and nearly stalked my sister in the bathroom. That whole “do unto others” thing was out the window. But they were the only viable escape I could conjure with two shots medicating my body on an empty belly.

  “Tell you what. I’ll join you over there for a few minutes,” he nodded across the room, “but you should know I’m waiting for someone.”

  Someone! I felt a sense of relief. Yes! At least Zack had a date, so it’d keep him from trying to crawl into my pants. That alone made me feel a little bit better about having him around. I was reminded of the leggy blonde from Saturday night and assumed she’d walk through the door at any moment for her own turn at the bedroom rodeo with him. All that mattered was I wouldn’t be drinking alone to become the latest Steele Falls gossip story.

  Santi handed me my third shot and I stood up too fast, swaying as if I were on a boat in rocky waters. I took a moment to right my equilibrium with one hand braced on the edge of the bar. It wasn’t enough to deter me though. I was on a mission. “Keep ‘em coming, bartender.”

  I walked across the room with the glass in my hand, knowing I’d zigzagged horribly through the impossibly close tables. Trying to fake my sobriety was a fail. My feet somehow crossed and I stumbled, Zack catching me by the arm.

  He reached for the shot in my hand that I’d barely salvaged, intense eyes surveying me. “You sure you want to keep up that pace?”

  The temperature in the room skyrocketed as my pulse raced. “I know what I’m doing,” I said, wrenching my arm away from him. “See? I didn’t spill a drop. Call it drinking responsibly.”

  Zack opened his mout
h to say something and then stopped himself.

  Maybe it was the look on my face. Maybe it was the fact he didn’t know how far he could push me. Maybe it was because we barely knew each other. Whatever the reason, he knew it was a line he shouldn’t cross.

  Drinking anyone else under the table wasn’t my specialty, and it wasn’t my intended goal that night. I was the classic definition of a lightweight. Alcohol always hit me hard and fast, especially shots. The perfect cheap date as Cash used to call me. You’d think I’d have been smarter considering I was still pissed off, but that night emotion trumped intelligence. And that meant drinking more of the big-O’s was the clear winner. I stared at the seating arrangement. Daveigh was back. Zack was in tow. The group dynamic had altered drastically.

  “Well, well, well,” Lucy said with a sly grin as she arched an eyebrow. “Who do we have here?”

  Zack set his drink down on the table. “Hey, Lucy. Care if we join you?”

  “Not at all, Mr. Main.” She winked. “What are you two up to tonight?”

  I forced a smile and a nervous chuckle. Maybe the group setting wasn’t such a good idea after all. “You know, stopped by for a drink before I go home…alone.”

  “Uh huh,” Lucy replied with a knowing look as her eyes flicked toward Zack. “The best way is by whetting your whistle first, right?”

  I didn’t bother acknowledging her response verbally. The glower on my face should’ve been enough for her.

  Zack pulled a chair out for me to sit down and followed suit as he straddled the seat next to me. My posture went rigid when I felt his left hand at the small of my back, warm fingertips stroking the two-inch gap of exposed skin between my shirt and the waist of my jeans.

  “Wesley,” Beanbag said, extending his hand to shake Zack’s. “I’ve seen pictures of the houses you’ve redone across town. Some pretty epic shit.”

  “Thanks. With the risk of sounding like a conceited asshole, I think it’s some pretty epic shit myself.” Zack laughed.

  “We’ve already met,” Daveigh said. “At your Halloween party, last year.”

  “That’s right!” He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “You wore that provocative little she-devil number. And, if I remember, that guy you brought was dressed up like a ridiculous mall cop. Man, that getup he had on was over the top. If I’d have held a costume contest, he’d have won. No doubt.”

  “His wasn’t a costume.” Her face reddened as she fiddled with a lock of hair and looked down at the floor. “Gene came to the party straight from work.”

  The table tanked to silence.

  “Okay then.” Zack picked up on the discomfort and puffed out his cheeks. “My bad. Regardless, my condolences about your father.”

  “Thanks.” She nursed her beer as Beanbag gave her a compassionate glance.

  Santi swung by with a fresh round of drinks as he did a lap around our table. I’d finished my third shot and was ready to take on the fourth when the door to the bar opened. A couple stumbled inside, completely engrossed in their own laughter and hand-holding. They headed toward a pool table where three more people were motioning them over. A third person caught the door before it clicked shut and slipped inside. Suddenly, I felt like I needed a fifth and sixth shot. Maybe even a dozen after that.

  The rest of the world went silent as I focused on the man who’d entered The Fill & Spill. He took off his rain-covered leather jacket and gave it a shake, droplets of water falling to the mat at the door. Zack whispered something to me, his lips tickling my earlobe. None of it registered with my brain though. Not a damn word. My heart was too busy cowering behind my spine while I watched Adam Rockwell.

  He looked around the room and saw Zack, offering him a single nod. Then his expression darkened when he saw me—a day and night difference. At that moment, I realized the person Zack waited for wasn’t Ms. Endless Legs, after all. It was his buddy. How could I have not put that together as a possible scenario? Stupid, Blue!

  Adam scanned the rest of the customers in the room and headed toward Santi up at the bar, a beer already waiting on the counter for him as he gave the bartender his order. It was a no brainer. He was trying to avoid me.

  Zack stood up and gestured toward his friend. “Hey, Rockwell! Over here!”

  Adam cringed as he glanced our way before looking around for a quick getaway. Reluctantly, he headed our direction with a drink in his hand. His gaze stumbled, lingering on me longer than anyone else’s. “Hey, Zack. I came to…tell you I can’t stay.”

  He frowned. “What are you talking about? You just got here, and you’re holding a beer. We agreed to meet when you got off work.”

  “Yeah, well plans change,” Adam replied. “I’m downing this before she,” his eyes flicked toward where I sat, “has a chance to commit a second round of alcohol abuse against me, and then I’m heading home.”

  Zack lowered his voice. “You specifically said you needed a drink when you called me this afternoon. Figured something major went down at work today. Is everything all right?”

  “It’s…great. Couldn’t be better.” His voice cracked. “Had some unexpected news fall onto my lap. That’s all.”

  “If it’s your boss who’s being a tool, fuck him. I told you I’ve got a position open when you’re ready to make the move over to Main Enterprises,” Zack said.

  Adam let out a slow breath. “Look, I really don’t need to bore anyone else with this. I’ll figure it out on my own.”

  “The offer stands. I’ll make it work,” Zack pressed. “If it’s the money, I’m positive I can meet or beat—”

  “I know and thanks.” He looked at his watch. “I should head out.”

  “See? He has to leave.” Daveigh’s tone was laced with fake sadness. “Too bad. Maybe he can join us another time.” She blinked rapidly and flashed him a forced smile.

  Santi came by and growled seductively at Lucy before he fixated on me. “Do you want another Orgasm?”

  Zack narrowed his eyes at the bartender. “Back off.”

  “Better make the next one a double,” I replied quietly as I slunk down in my chair, wanting the unwanted level of testosterone in the room to nosedive. “Maybe a triple.”

  “You got it. I’ll be remembered for giving you the biggest Orgasm you’ve ever had. Trust me, you won’t know what hit you,” Santi replied as he wove his way through the tables and back up to the bar.

  Zack’s hand worked its way around my back a few inches and I squirmed. When his fingertips greeted my ribcage, I jumped up and practically knocked my chair over. “I’ve got to pee,” I squeaked. “Right now. I’ll be back.”

  The bathroom was empty when I hurried inside. The music dwindled to a hushed whisper as the door shut behind me. Beautiful, pristine silence. I braced either side of the sink, my palms greeting the chipped porcelain. My reflection displayed an exhausted girl when I looked up. Dark waves of hair hung down to my shoulders, the tangled mess in disarray. Faded eyeliner had started to smear under my eyes, and I knew I’d look like a raccoon if I stuck around much longer. I, Blue Brennan, was a hot mess. It left me questioning why Zack’s flirting was so over the top while I ran a paper towel under cold water and pressed it to the back of my neck. The alcohol and the uncomfortable situation were both competing for my attention. I was no longer sure which was in the lead.

  A few minutes later, I staggered back to the table and plopped down. It was a weird combination of personalities between Daveigh, Beanbag, Lucy, Zack, and myself. But with Adam unexpectedly added to the mix? I didn’t know what to think. Like a magnet, Zack’s hand was affixed to my body again. Everything was too much, all at once.

  “I need to leave,” Adam and I spoke in unison as we both put our hands on the table and went to stand up. We locked eyes and froze. Thinking back, I’m not sure whether either of us were breathing
anymore.

  Zack grabbed my hand and squeezed. “Don’t go.” His attention turned to Adam and his tone firmed. “Sit down. We all know you have nothing better to do tonight but sulk about whatever bullshit happened at work. Have a few more drinks and forget about it.” Zack clamped his palm down on Adam’s shoulder until he sunk back onto the seat of his chair. “I’m sure your problem isn’t going anywhere.”

  “You can say that again,” Adam mumbled as he leaned back into his seat. “I guess I’m having another beer, Santi.”

  “See? You can deal with it tomorrow.” Zack scooted his chair closer to me. “Now, chill. Maybe eat something. The special tonight is spaghetti.”

  Adam grimaced. “No, thanks. I can’t stand Italian food.”

  “Hold on.” I looked up at a flat screen television screen over the bar. The volume was off with only a series of subtitles to describe what was being said. But I didn’t need sound to explain what I saw. Ornate marble pillars. Offensive lighting. Gorilla Gloria pretending to be studious behind the front desk. A news story panned the exterior of Jensen & Jensen and then the shot flipped to a side-by-side interview with Cash and Price. “Fuck me sideways,” I muttered. Where was Santi with the promise of an earthshattering Orgasm when I needed it?

  Lucy kicked me in the shin under the table. “Blue, isn’t that where you work?”

  “Worked.” I grabbed Zack’s drink and downed what was left in two massive gulps. “Past tense.” I grimaced. “Ugh. How can you drink that shit? It tastes like I licked a Christmas tree.”

  The scrolling words on the screen conveyed they were being presented by one of the TV channels with an award for best plastic surgery suite in Sacramento. Price did most of the talking while Cash sat there, mostly smiling and nodding as he rode on Price’s coattails.