by Dixon,Jules
“Oh! My! God! Presley! Look at you!” Jace released every word at a decibel that guaranteed everyone in the restaurant probably was looking at me. I cringed from the inside out. “And that table of guys over there sure is, honey.” When she gave me a hug, her tiny body enveloped me like she was six-feet tall, when in reality even in her tall four inch heels she was probably only five feet six inches.
I noticed the table of hotties when we walked in, but none of them was even half as cute, sexy, or interesting as—
Stop it! It’s not gonna happen with him, move on.
Jace had already ordered the first round. We enjoyed appetizers and another drink and a couple of hours of talking about my achievement and general life details.
Jace had just started to tell us what happened with Taylor when a very attractive silvery blue-eyed, dirty blond-haired young man crossed the room to our table, focusing on Jace. He cleared his throat and we all scanned up his body admiring his perfectly pressed chinos and blue-as-his-eyes button-down.
“I normally don’t do this. Promise. But, I can’t help but stare at all of you beautiful ladies.” He turned to Jace. “Hi, I’m Logan Higgins. Would you mind telling me your name?”
Willow and I sent each other the eye. Logan was flirt-humping the wrong female, but Jace would let him know.
Jace stood, holding out her hand. “Hi, I’m Jace and these are my friends, Willow and Presley.”
Or maybe not?
“Nice to meet you, ladies.” He shook our hands. “Can I buy the next round in apology for the amount of staring I’ve been doing?”
“That would be nice. Cosmos,” Jace replied. Her bright smile lit up his face in return. “Are you with the table of hotties over there?”
He chuckled. “They’d all be racing over here if they heard you say that, but yes. The eight of us are in town for a meeting.”
“The Berkshire-Hathaway shareholders meeting?” Willow asked, and he nodded. “So, not from Omaha?”
“Only one of us, the rest are from all over the country—San Diego, Dallas, Kansas City, Phoenix, somewhere in Florida, and I’m from New York City. College frat buddies.”
That piqued my interest. No commitment or chance of running into the guy again, that could work. But after experiencing Drexel’s frat-boy ways, the frat comment was a huge turnoff.
“The Big Apple?” Jace asked. “Never been there.”
“You should visit.” Logan stepped closer to her.
“Maybe someday.”
“I have a very comfy sofa, be glad to offer it up for a visit, Jace.” Even in the busy bar, his whisper in her ear wasn’t quiet enough. Willow and I heard the comment and we both raised our eyebrows.
Way to skip the whole chase, Logan.
Jace’s eyes twinkled up at him. “Sorry, Logan, you’re super cute and have a real gift to charm, but I prefer a lot less penis on my lovers.”
Logan dipped his head back down to her ear. “Any chance you’d be willing to change your mind for the night, Jace?”
“Nope.”
“Well, can’t blame me for trying.” He straightened his posture, and they exchanged a small handshake.
“I don’t, but I still expect that round of Cosmos and if any of your friends have been gawking, they can repent with a round, too.” She winked at him to let him know she was kidding.
Logan chuckled. “God, don’t think I’ve ever been this bummed about striking out. Smart, hot body, and a spunky attitude, that’s a triple win. But really, it’s my loss. I’ll just have to settle for a good-bye hug?”
Jace nodded her acceptance. He reached around her, and she hugged his thin six foot frame like she was saying good-bye to someone she had known all her life.
“It was nice meeting you, Logan.” She backed away.
“You too, Jace. Nice meeting you ladies. Have fun tonight.”
Returning to his table, the other eye-catching guys dished Logan crap for not pulling digits. I assumed he informed them of Jace’s sexual preferences but then again maybe he didn’t. He seemed like a pretty upstanding kind of guy, plus, who knows what kind of crap those guys would pile on Logan if they found out he went for the lesbian at the table.
Three Cosmos were delivered, courtesy of Logan, and we finished the delicious concoctions faster than the first ones.
Jace stood. “You guys ready for the next bar?”
“What about sweet tart martinis at Upstream?” I suggested.
“Perfect!” Willow and Jace replied in unison.
We closed out our tab and stopped to extend a ‘thank you and good night’ to Logan and acknowledged the rest of the hottie table, but we didn’t stick around to make conversation.
Upstream Brewing Company ended up being low-key and that wasn’t what I was in the mood for. The drinks were excellent, the bartender was cute and working hard for a generous tip, but I craved excitement. Celebration.
Jace abstained from drinking. I suspected she would drive my car to wherever we ended up next, leaving her car here. Willow and I consumed a couple of martinis each. I was definitely enjoying the alcohol in my system. A bouncy buzz, not a drunken daze.
We spent a couple of hours pulling the breakup details out of Jace. A few tears trickled down her cheek and the sight broke my heart because hers was broken, too. Same story, different woman. Jace tried to pretend the breakup wasn’t that big of a deal and she claimed it wasn’t the forever kind of love, but I could tell she was more invested than she let on.
Restless to move bars, we paid our tab and stood outside in next-bar-limbo.
Jace suggested Twin Peaks next, a bar that was a cross between Coyote Ugly and Hooters.
“No!” Willow and I responded in unison.
The scenery wasn’t our thing. We had twin peaks of our own. We could see them anytime we wanted.
Jace rolled her huge blue eyes. “Fine. Willow, you pick.”
“Let me look up something.” She started some sort of search on her phone. “Yes! There is an excellent band at Two Fine Irishmen tonight.”
“I could go dancing.” I performed an alcohol-induced jig.
Jace laughed. “Me, too. Let’s go.”
Like I suspected, Jace suggested she drive. She wasn’t a real drinker and her slight body composition made her a lightweight. Plus, I suspected she planned to work tomorrow. That whole ‘loves what she does’ thing kept her busy even on the weekends.
Inside my car, oohs and ahs were showered liberally.
“It’s a loaner,” I repeated, over and over and over.
When I committed to a car—or a man—it would be for a lifetime or until significant and irreparable maintenance or damage to the car and/or the relationship before I made another change.
As I drove to the nail salon today, I’d thought about adding Two Fine as a possibility. Willow and I used to be regulars but hadn’t been there in a while. Hopefully the crowd kept up the reputation of a twenty-something meat market and the cute West O guys came out to play.
I’m ready to play all night long.
Already after ten when we got inside the front door, the band rocked a popular song. We paraded to the dance floor and danced in a group. Jace noticed a high-top open up in the back by the bar, and she practically elbowed down two big guys to claim the seats first. Jace always won the table game, and when she didn’t, she turned on the charm until she did. Willow and I finished out the song, and the band blabbered about needing a short break to fix equipment.
I plopped into the pleather-covered high-top chair, feeling the need for a glass of water as my mouth dried from the exertion of dancing.
“Did you order a round?” I asked Jace.
“Yeah, lemon-drop martinis for you two, and waters all around.”
“Whoa!” Willow fanned herself. “Okay, now that’s a breed of gorgeous you don’t see every day.”
Jace glanced behind me toward the bar. “Not gonna lie, that even gets my lady parts humming.”
The waitress
placed three waters on the table. “Be right back with your martinis, ladies.” Her sage-green eyes glowed in the florescent neon bar signs.
I downed a long drink of the water while Willow and Jace continued their drooling and ogling over whomever or whatever was behind me at the bar.
“What?” I turned around to see for myself.
“He went behind the other side.” Jace waved across the room at a table of girls she apparently knew.
The waitress returned with our martinis. “That’s fourteen dollars, ladies.”
I pulled out money and paid, waving off Willow’s offer.
“Thanks,” the sun-kissed, brunette waitress acknowledged my payment and tip with a friendly smile.
I sipped the martini. Perfect. Both tart and sweet and so so lemony. Delicious.
“Say, before you go…” Willow stopped the waitress as she turned to the bar. “The bartender,” Willow pointed with her head. “What’s Ponytail’s name?”
The waitress laughed. “Why? You want his number?”
“Maybe, but for now just a name to go with the fantasy bang I’m already starting in my head.”
The waitress rolled with laughter, appreciating the humor in Willow’s drunken clarification. I took another look but still didn’t see the guy Willow was blabbering about. I sipped my drink faster than I should’ve but it was so incredibly tasty, fresher and more balanced than the usual concoction served here.
The waitress regained her composure. “Ponytail goes by Jude.”
My heart crashed to my stomach. I sucked in a breath and carried the drink into my lungs, experiencing the sting of the alcohol and the waitress’s words all the way down.
The waitress offered a concerned look at my coughing, but continued, “Jude Saylor, but I’m sure he’d love to hear you call him Ponytail. Really nice guy and as far as I know he’s available.” She walked away shaking her head and mumbled on a giggle, “Ponytail.”
I was still choking on my drink with my back to the bar. Now I really didn’t want to turn around. There couldn’t be two Jude Saylors in Omaha and someone probably didn’t steal his identity to bartend, and the ponytail thing would be a huge coincidence.
Wasn’t he supposed to be on a date with Emerson? But he also said he worked a second job, right?
“Prez, are you okay?”
I continued to sputter after clearing my throat for the tenth time.
“I need to go to the bathroom. Be right back.” I scuttled around the corner away from the bar to clear my head and catch my breath.
And to panic.
Chapter Eight
Jude
“Hey, Jude. The girls at table twenty-six in the back have nicknamed you and are looking for a foursome,” Sage said with a smartass smirk. “And one might need the Heimlich maneuver.”
I shook my head while I filled her beer order. I didn’t do random hookups and especially not at the bar where I worked. That was asking for trouble.
“The three of them are gorgeous,” she teased. “You might want to rethink your not-from-the-bar stance.” She walked away with two pints.
“I’m up for a twosome, Jude.” Emerson slurred every word. After only two vodkas with lime, all 110 pounds of her was officially trashed.
Kanyon chuckled. “I think this one is up for some water.”
I agreed with him without saying a word and poured a glass full of lemon-lime soda, throwing in a lime for good measure. I traded the glass with the actual alcoholic version while Emerson’s head was turned. Her glazed-over eyes came back, and she smiled a drunken crooked smile.
She took a long sip through the tiny straw. “Mmmm, this is delicious.”
“Glad you like it.” I walked toward the back to see what Sage thought was so special that I had to see for myself.
I rounded the corner and stunning emerald eyes met mine. I smiled, but Presley didn’t smile back. She diverted her eyes from mine. Her eyes stayed down and a tiny furrow of her eyebrows appeared as she made her way back to the high-top table. Okay, what was that?
I caught up with another bartender. “Rahl, I’m going to take my fifteen.”
He acknowledged my declaration with a short-tempered grumble.
The band started back up.
I crossed to the other side of the room. “Good evening, ladies. The waitress tells me I’ve warranted a nickname but she won’t tell me what it is.”
I never took my eyes off of Presley—her eyes, her hair, the clothes. I was close to crawling across the high-top table and pulling her to my body and covering her with my scent caveman-style.
All three of the girls stopped talking, and everyone but Presley smiled pleasantly. She fidgeted with the cocktail napkin under her drink.
“Hi, Presley. Want to introduce me to your friends?”
The two girls glanced from me to Presley and back again. Presley’s face paled and her chest rose and fell quickly. It was a beautiful sight. She was a beautiful sight.
I reached out my hand to a young woman with stunning dark blue eyes and funky purple hair. “Hi, I’m Jude Saylor, Presley’s personal trainer at Triple R.”
“Holy shit!” Her volume made me jump and then chuckle. She spun to Presley. “And I don’t owe you twenty dollars! I guarantee you owe me forty dollars and I imagine you lied to me about that second Depping!” She turned back around, regained her composure, and reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Willow Harper.” Her eyes sparkled with some inside joke between her and Presley.
“Nice to meet you, Willow. And you are?” I offered my hand to the blonde with eyes a shade darker than baby blue. They held to mine. I smiled because even her eyes smiled at me.
“Hi, Jude, Jace Zelensky and you’re Presley’s trainer … hmmm. Interesting. Very interesting.”
“Nice to meet you, Jace.” I rounded the table to Presley, leaning down to her so she could hear me. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. How are you and how is Emerson?” Her eyes flashed to mine but found something else to stare at across the room.
Fucking great.
Presley hopped down from her chair as if she was going to make a break for somewhere that was nowhere near me.
Moving closer, I leaned in and asked a question in her ear. “Can I talk to you in the hallway, Presley?”
“I don’t think…” She moved her upper body away from mine. “I just want to have a little fun with my friends tonight.” Her normally delicate voice sounded tight and forced.
“I understand, but I think you have the wrong impression of what’s happening with Emerson.”
Her perfume saturated the air and a craving to touch her caused my biceps to jump.
Presley’s eyes widened. “None of my business. I came here to dance so I’m going to go do that. Have a good night, Jude.” She skirted around me and clutched Willow’s arm, dragging her to the dance floor.
I stood stunned. I wouldn’t follow her. I wasn’t that guy. She had to know I was interested, but she skittered away like a mouse. The evasive moves didn’t bother me. She didn’t owe it to me to listen to my excuses. I didn’t know Presley was going to end up here. It was a public bar and Emerson was here because of my inability to think before I spoke. That made the fallout my fault. Still, I wished I were the one on the dance floor with her.
“So, Ponytail, I’ve seen that look before. You’re interested but in what?” Jace said with protective female undertones flowing through the question. Her eyes looked me up and down, as if she was measuring the size of my manhood. Not the manhood in my pants, but the one in my head and heart.
Talking to the girlfriend was a crapshoot. Either she found you completely objectionable or she would go to bat for you. Let’s see which it is.
“Ponytail? Did Presley come up with that?” I watched her dance. Her curls bouncing up and down like a Slinky, and her hips swaying to the beat. Every gyration, bounce, and side-to-side shimmy had my crotch taking notice.
“No, Willow did, but I’d bet
Prez was the first to think it. I know she’d kill me for telling you, but I don’t want to see her get hurt again. She’s been through hell when it comes to guys and people in general. She needs someone who can understand her and treat her right, almost better than she treats herself.” Jace followed my gaze back to the dance floor. She shook her head and sighed. “Unfortunately, she’s trying to find that connection by getting laid tonight.”
“What?” My hands fisted at my sides, and my nostrils flared.
Jace brought her gaze back and viewed my reaction. “Obviously, you heard me. She’s attempting what generally turns out to be a disastrous effort to forget what she really wants. Which, I’m imagining, is all you, Ponytail.”
“But I … I…”
I can’t get away from work. I can’t imagine she normally does that. I can imagine being the one with her. That’s not going to happen. Shit!
My brain viciously mauled the fact that Presley wanted to have sex with anyone that wasn’t me. What could I do to change her mind or did I even have a right to? I had a feeling anything I said to her tonight was going to be the wrong thing.
I stared at Presley. She laughed and enjoyed herself on the dance floor with Willow.
“Don’t worry. I’ll do everything I can to keep her from making the thinking-with-her-vag mistake. For her sake, not yours. But if you’re into Emerson, who is a raging bitch and treats Presley and most people like crap, then leave Presley alone. She deserves better.”
Emerson who?
I glanced to the bar.
Right, that Emerson.
“I have to keep Emerson on my side because of her position at the gym. That is the only reason she’s here.”
“Fucking bullshit.” I heard the words but when I turned back Jace didn’t look like she had said it. She stared across the room.
“Jace...” I touched her arm, and she brought her attention back. “I won’t wait. I’m interested in Presley, and if she gives me a chance, I promise to treat her right.”
“All right, I’ll give you a chance to prove it. Let’s hope she does, too.”
I motioned to the bar. “I have a friend keeping Emerson company. If you’re interested in meeting a nice guy I’m sure he’d enjoy a break from the monotonous crap spewing from Emerson’s drunken mouth.”