“Deal. But let’s get started while we talk.” Marci gestured to a pile of black garbage bags stacked across from them on the cement floor. As they tore into black garbage bags and pulled out mounds of donated clothes, Marci began to tell him about her fateful encounter with Owen. Only she had no idea at the time how fateful that encounter truly was.
Chapter Four
Saturday night, Owen and Dante walked into The Hops. Dante had been messing with his phone since they’d gotten out of the car earlier.
He finally looked up after they’d shown their I.D.’s and gotten into the bar. “Brynn should be here soon,” he said, once again glancing down at his phone. “She just texted me. She’s running a little late.”
Owen nodded, looking around the bar as he did. He knew it was irrational to do so, but he found himself looking for Marci everywhere he went nowadays. It was almost as if he was willing himself to bump into her. He looked everywhere—from the student union to the quad to the road on campus where he’d accidentally run her over to the main library near the chapel—every freaking place he went.
“You’ve been quiet tonight,” Dante said.
Owen took a deep breath, catching a good whiff of the yeasty beer smell that was The Hops in the process. “Thinking, I guess.”
“Not about that girl.” Dante gave him an incredulous look from behind his black-framed glasses. “Give it up, man. You’re never going to see her again.”
Owen shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. “You don’t know that. We go to the same school after all.”
“I don’t know what’s worse. This lovesick over a stranger mess, or the moping you were doing before Thursday when you met that woman because of Kristin.”
Kristin was Owen’s ex-girlfriend who’d left him for a trust fund baby she’d met during a trip to Nantucket with her parents over the summer. They’d apparently stayed in touch secretly after the summer unbeknownst to Owen and Trust Fund Baby’s girlfriend. Then a few weeks ago, Kristin had declared she was in love with Trust Fund Baby and dumped Owen. She was “so sorry,” and she “never meant to fall in love with someone else.” Yeah right. She was in love with the fact that Trust Fund Baby’s family was Very Prominent in New York and had so much money they shat gold bricks, as Dante had so eloquently put it. Owen could never compete with Trust Fund Baby in that department.
Owen’s mom had never liked Kristin—always called her a spoiled rich brat. All Owen’s friends had predicted Kristin would leave him for a bigger wallet one day. Foolishly, Owen had ignored them and all their warnings. He’d thought Kristin really loved him, and that love was more important to her than money.
Owen’s parents were middle class—or at least had been until his father passed away. Owen was paying his way through college, and it was a struggle even with work-study and his second job at Java Time. Owen was by no means ashamed of the fact that his and Kristin’s families were not on the same financial footing. And he hadn’t thought it mattered to Kristin, either. Not until she left him for Trust Fund Baby.
“What’s old dude’s name anyway?” Dante asked. “The one she met in Nantucket.”
“Dunno.” Owen had never bothered to learn his name. He didn’t want to know it. “Don’t care.” It wasn’t like knowing it would bring Kristin back. And everybody except Owen thought that was a good thing. He wanted to see it as a good thing, but he just couldn’t. Or at least he hadn’t been able to until Thursday.
He would’ve married Kristin. He’d really thought that was the direction in which they were headed. They’d started dating in their first semester of freshman year after meeting in the lobby of their dorm when she was on her way back from a frat party, and Owen was on his way back from a late-night run. They’d stayed up all night on that cheap dorm furniture sofa in the common room and talked. When he’d told her about the losses his family had suffered, she’d really seemed to care. He’d known. Just known no one could be more perfect for him. Apparently, no one could be more perfect for Trust Fund Baby, either.
#
The Hops had two bars—a main bar and a bar in the back room. Marci followed her friends to the bar in the back. Tyler’s friend worked back there and always took care of them. That was another reason Tyler loved The Hops so much.
Tyler and Ronnie ordered beers—local brews they really liked that Marci couldn’t pronounce the names of. Marci ordered a whiskey on the rocks. Their friend, Sadie, was with them as well. She ordered the cheapest swill on the menu. Sadie had a thing for cheap beers. She blamed it on being a struggling entrepreneur trying to get her jewelry design business off the ground, but Marci knew better. Even when someone else was paying, like Sadie’s mega-rich fiancé, Sadie would order those gut churners. Marci didn’t have to be a beer person to know that Sadie made some poor choices in beer.
“So, Marci,” Sadie said after she got her beer. Sadie wore a long, reddish brown dress that looked great on her slender frame. “What happened to what’s-his-face? That you left Tyler’s party with?”
Marci gave her a look. “You know I don’t keep them around.”
“But that one was crazy good looking. And you two seemed to really have a thing for each other. Couldn’t hardly anybody come between you all night.”
“Yeah, well. Gone.” Marci had learned the hard way that it was better to get rid of them before they had the chance to get rid of you.
“When you gonna stop playing the field?”
“Maybe when I stop being able to pull any guy I want any time.”
Sadie threw her head back and laughed. “Now you just talking shit. I like it, though. I like it.”
Tyler took a long, thoughtful sip of his beer. He narrowed his eyes at Marci. Then he shifted his gaze from Marci to Sadie and back again. A slow grin spread across his face.
“What?” Marci sipped her whiskey. She hadn’t eaten much all day because they’d been so busy at the Hope Center, and her drink was going straight to her head.
“You two are the biggest trash talkers I know,” Tyler said. “And Marci, you are just a man-eater.”
“Well, some do it better than others,” Marci said, laughing as Sadie pulled a face at her. They often joked like this.
“I’m gonna let you get away with that because I’m attached. That and I feel sorry for you,” Sadie said. “We can’t all be the fabulous dream of every man in the room. It’s lonely at the top, true, but I like it up here.” Sadie struck a pose, and everyone bust out laughing.
“Oh, please, girl,” Marci said. “I can get any man in this room to go home with me.”
“Okay, Marci, wanna put all your big talk to the test?” Tyler asked.
“What do you mean?”
“A friendly wager.”
“Huh?”
“You take home the hottest straight guy in this bar tonight,” Tyler said.
“Stakes?”
“You fail, we get a big fat tab on you at our fave martini bar,” Tyler said, gesturing to Sadie and Ronnie. “You win, we’ll pay your tab.”
“Deal.” Marci nodded. “Too easy.” It was all in good fun. She didn’t mind paying a tab for the three of them. Her neurosurgeon mother often threw guilt money at her in place of affection. Money was never an issue. Besides, she didn’t plan on losing. “Okay.” Marci started to walk off.
Tyler grabbed her arm. “Wait, where you going?”
“To get the guy,” Marci said.
“Oh, no no no.” Tyler grinned. “We pick the guy.”
Ronnie stepped in closer. She wore a low cut black top that night, her generous cleavage spilling out of her push-up bra. “Oh, okay. I like this game.”
Sadie tossed back the rest of her swill. “Hell yeah. Me, too.”
“Uh-oh,” Marci said, but they paid her little attention as they were already scanning the bar for her quarry.
“Ugh, there’s no one back here. Let me get another beer, and we’ll head to the main bar.” Tyler turned around and leaned on the bar, signaling to
get his bartender friend’s attention.
“What are those looks you two are giving me?” Marci looked warily into Sadie and Ronnie’s faces.
“I’m just thinking about all those free martinis,” Ronnie said, downing the rest of her beer. She called to Tyler, “Hey, get me another one, too!”
“He better not be gross and no married men. Or involved men,” Marci said.
“Oh, we’ll find you someone completely single. Don’t worry.” Sadie nodded, her ‘fro flopping as she did.
“And what about you? How come you don’t have to do this?” Marci asked.
“Rafe being on another continent don’t mean I’m free to roam. Besides, you was talking the big talk tonight,” Sadie said. “Now it’s time to walk the big walk.”
Ronnie, Tyler, and Sadie walked Marci out to the main bar. They looked around, judging people by their clothes, whether they “looked” single, and a whole bunch of other spontaneously made up criteria. As they were giggling and discussing various potentials, Marci’s eyes landed on Owen. Oh no. Not him. Why had she agreed to go to a bar so close to campus? Why couldn’t Tyler have picked a bar downtown or in D.C.? Or New York for that matter? The farther away, the better. Maybe she could return to the back bar before he noticed her.
She opened her mouth to tell her friends she was heading to the back, but before she could, Tyler said, “Him.”
She followed to where he was pointing with her eyes, turning her head slowly, afraid to look. He was pointing to the general direction in which she’d seen Owen standing with an attractive, well-dressed black man who was a little shorter than Owen. Sure enough, he was pointing to Owen. Ronnie and Sadie immediately and enthusiastically agreed.
“Oh no,” she said.
“Oh yes,” the three chimed at the same time before breaking into yet another round of giggles.
“He’s definitely the hottest,” Tyler said. “And he looks single. And definitely straight.”
“You don’t understand. That’s him. Owen,” Marci said.
“Owen?” Sadie said, sounding puzzled.
“The guy who ran her over on the bike last week,” Tyler said. Sadie nodded her understanding.
“Ooh. That’ll make it even more interesting,” Ronnie said.
“You can’t make me do this.”
“Of course we can’t. You can always admit defeat and get ready to open up that tab,” Tyler said. “Him or no one. Them’s the rules.”
The tab was one thing, but admitting defeat was something Marci didn’t do. That just wasn’t in her DNA.
#
Grabbing blindly to his left for Dante’s shoulder without taking his eyes off her, Owen said, “That’s her. That’s Marci.”
But Dante wasn’t listening. “Good. Brynn just showed up.”
Owen turned to Dante and grabbed his shoulders. “It’s Marci,” he nearly shouted, unable to contain his shock and excitement. “I knew I would see her again, somehow some way. It’s fate.”
Dante rolled his eyes. “Stop being crazy. Leave that poor woman alone and come meet someone you might have an actual chance with. Someone you haven’t burned with her own coffee.”
Owen started to protest when a tall blonde walked up to them and gave Dante a hug hello. Damn. Must be Brynn. He’d never get away now without looking like a rude crazy person. He’d keep one eye on Marci, though. If she left the bar, he would run after her, whether he looked rude and crazy or not. He wasn’t going to lose her again.
“Brynn, this is Owen, my friend I was telling you about. Owen, Brynn.” Dante made the introductions. Owen shook hands with the blue-eyed blonde. Dante had been right about the Nordic thing. She was almost his height, and that was a rare thing to run across because he was six-foot-four. She was gorgeous as Dante had promised. Maybe a little too thin for his tastes, but she was definitely striking. But Owen was distracted. He kept looking for Marci out of the corner of his eye even as Brynn started to talk to him.
“Isn’t this a nice bar?” Brynn leaned closer. She must have thought he was having such a hard time answering because he couldn’t hear in the noisy crowded atmosphere of The Hops. He caught the scent of something sweet whenever she leaned in close. Cake or vanilla or something. He remembered how the girls in high school had worn enough vanilla to make him gag. It had been overpowering. Cloying.
“Yeah. It’s great.” Owen smiled. “So what do you do? You a student at CVU?” He made an effort to be nice, but he found it hard to focus on their conversation. He was worried about losing track of Marci in the thick crush of bodies that was the usual Saturday night crowd at The Hops.
“No, I graduated last year actually. Dante and I are working on a project we hope will turn into a business partnership.”
“Oh. That’s nice.” He couldn’t keep up with his roommate’s crazy entrepreneurial schemes. He vaguely wondered what their project was, but he had more important things on his mind than asking right now. He glanced over his shoulder in what he hoped was a casual way to track Marci on the other side of the bar. He did a double-take. She wasn’t there. Where had she gone?
#
“Look,” Marci said. “He’s talking to someone.” She gestured to the tall blonde woman. “Taken,” she said in a sing-song voice.
“Not so fast,” Tyler said in a similar tone. “She hugged the friend, but she only shook Owen’s hand. And look how awkward they are. Bet you anything the friend is trying to set them up.”
“And you want me to interrupt that?”
“Or lose the bet. Completely up to you.”
Marci handed Tyler her empty glass. “I gotta pee.”
“And then?”
“And then we’ll see.” Marci sauntered off in the direction of the restroom. Maybe she could escape through a window in there like in the movies. Not that Owen wasn’t cute. He just wasn’t a good idea. Even if the coffee thing hadn’t happened, he wouldn’t be a good idea. In the brief time she’d known him, he’d been so…unassuming. Those were the dangerous kind.
The ones with an agenda, an ulterior motive, they were easy to read and so not a threat. That type she could handle. They wanted what she wanted—the only thing she allowed herself to want. Do it, get it over with, and move on. Nobody gets hurt because everybody wants the same thing, and no one’s going to try to get any more than that one thing. The nice ones, the genuine-seeming ones, the Opie types, those were the ones you had to watch out for.
#
Owen looked around crazily, turning his head from left to right.
“What’s wrong?” Brynn asked.
“It was nice meeting you, but I have to go,” Owen said.
“Why? Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah. I just, uh, lost someone.”
“Who?” Brynn seemed puzzled. “Dante’s right over there.” Brynn pointed to the bar where Dante was drinking a beer and flirting with an attractive dark haired woman. So Dante had invited Mary out—he was determined that was going to go his way one of these days. “You didn’t come with anyone else, did you?” Brynn asked.
Not exactly. “Uhm. Something. I lost something,” Owen said. “I have to go.”
“Well, Dante has my number. I’d love to see you again,” Brynn said, looking at him expectantly.
He smiled at her and ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll call you.”
“Do that. Get my number from Dante.”
“Yep. Have a good night.” Owen headed for the bar, still scanning the overcrowded room. He headed for the blond man and the two women he’d seen Marci talking to earlier. They would probably know where she was if anyone did. Before he could reach them, his path was blocked by someone. He looked up, ready to excuse himself and skirt around the person until he realized who it was. Soft, curly brown hair resting against her shoulders. Light brown eyes set in a lovely brown face. Full lips he would love to cover with his own right now.
“Marci,” he said softly.
“Hi again.” She smiled, and he hadn�
�t believed her face could be even more beautiful until that moment.
“I never thought I’d see you again after we left student health Thursday. I’m so glad that wasn’t the case.” He left off the part where he’d determined to find her again because that might be a little creepy.
She nodded and fidgeted with a class ring that hung from a necklace that plunged teasingly low and drew attention to phenomenal cleavage. Not too much, not too little.
“I really am so sorry. You have to let me make it up to you.” He was about to suggest a date when she stepped closer, bringing her body flush against his and causing him to lose all train of thought.
“Leave,” she said.
“No.” He shook his head. “Not this time. You can’t—”
She laughed and placed a finger over his lips. Warmth spread from the place where her finger touched him to the rest of his entire body. “With me,” she said. “Leave with me.”
“Right now?” he mumbled against her finger.
Moving her finger away, but not before a hungry yet uncomfortable look passed over her face, she said, “Yeah.”
“Really?” he frowned. “Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to leave with you, but why the sudden change?”
She leaned in so that her lips were at his ear. Draping her arms over his shoulders, she said, “I made this bet with my friends, okay? So, we leave together, we both get something out of the deal, and I win the bet. What do you think?”
His heart sank for a moment. This was all about a bet. Not about him. But maybe he could use this to his advantage. One step at a time. First step? He was going to get to leave the bar with Marci.
“Let me tell my friend I’m leaving,” Owen said.
“The girl?”
“No. She’s…I just met her,” Owen said. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay,” Marci said.
Owen ran up to the bar and grabbed Dante’s shoulder. When he told Dante what his plans were, Dante narrowed his eyes at him. “What happened to Brynn?”
“Can you tell her I’m sorry? Please?”
Dante shook his head. “This is the last time I try to help you out, man.”
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