Cocktales

by The Cocky Collective

Arnold nods his head with an ugly sneer. “Okay, you losers will follow Nancy upstairs to HR when we’re done here, and the rest of you are welcome to stay as long as you don’t support these rebels.

  Josh from Ricky’s team stands up. “I support them.” I want to hug the guy, I’m so proud of him.

  “Then you can get in line with them,” Arnold commands.

  And just like that, this amazing energy suddenly fills the cavernous room as one by one, and two by two, people stand to join us in solidarity, until there isn’t a single seated person left. Quietly everyone moves to the center aisle and starts to line up for the march to HR. It looks like there won’t be any creative staff left at Sketch Republic by the end of the day, and Arnold looks like he’s been hit by a truck.

  As we slowly move forward the tone is somber but powerful as people hug and thank the supporters for the stand they are willing to take on our behalf. I can only hope I’d be that brave for them. When I’m near the door I look back at Brooke and see her dabbing her eyes with Kleenex while Arnold storms back and forth across the stage muttering curses. Nancy from HR has apparently already headed upstairs. She sure has a long night ahead of her. The whole thing feels like a dream.

  Over an hour passes, and people stop standing in line and just start sitting on the floor wherever there’s room. Groups make vending machine runs until there’s no junk food left to buy, so everyone shares what they have. Some people are scrolling through job boards on their cell phones but most are just hanging loose and chatting since it’s been a day like no other.

  It’s almost five when Nancy finally comes out to tell us about the final decision about our fate. We move to the open atrium near the elevators, and Nancy climbs to the top of a small step ladder so we can all see while she addresses our crowd.

  “As you know, Arnauld was perfectly willing to terminate our work agreements with all of you involved in today’s fiasco. But when the entire creative staff joined in in the spirit of solidarity, it obviously wasn't in the best interest of the company to fire our entire creative team today. As you well know, we have shows in active production and have not prepared at all for a massive hiring effort. So here is what we are offering: if everyone agrees to stay on at Sketch Republic, the perpetrators of today’s fiasco will be formally written up and will lose one week’s pay and be on a trial period for the next three months. Any further sabotage will be cause for immediate dismissal. So for anyone who wants to stay employed here, if you aren’t on the following list now being posted next to every elevator bank, you are free to go and return back to work by nine AM tomorrow morning. If you are on the list, please get in line so you can review the following agreement and sign it to continue your employment.”

  The group spreads out and I don’t bother to look at the list, I just get into the line forming near Nancy’s office. Ultimately I’m glad I’ll still be working here at Sketch Republic, because I like the people I work with and we have fun with our show. And of course as long as Brooke is here, I want to be here too.

  It’s almost surreal when I walk out the front doors at six PM., ironically the official end of our workday. I think about the copies of my newly signed and stamped work agreement that are shoved into my messenger bag as I trudge toward the parking lot. What a crazy ass day this has been.

  Some of the team is talking about meeting at the Smokehouse again tonight, but all I really want is to be with Brooke and make sure she’s okay. Once in my car I call her and the phone only rings once before she picks up.

  “Oh God, Nathan, I’ve been worried sick waiting to hear what happened to you. My understanding is they are letting you guys stay with provisions. Did you agree to that deal?

  “I did,” I smile to myself. I’m so happy that she genuinely cares about what was happening to me. “Hey, would it be okay if I came over?”

  “Of course,” she says quietly.

  “I’m on my way.”

  My heart is racing the whole way up the hill to her place. What am I going to say to Brooke? On the one hand it feels like everything has changed, but the reality is that nothing really has. She's still sweetly helping me woo a girlfriend – all just a guise to get more of her time. I’m still wildly in love with her while she’s still involved with our cocky boss. Oh, the agony!

  After I park, she buzzes me into her patio gate and waits for me at the front door. I almost trip and land in her open arms, but I steady myself by grabbing the doorjamb so I don’t knock her to the ground.

  She looks alarmed as she pulls me inside. “Are you okay? It’s been one hell of a day, hasn’t it?”

  “I’ll say,” I agree as my eyes grow wide. “Hey, can we sit out on the balcony? I bet the view is great tonight.”

  “Sure. Let me just grab us a couple of beers.”

  Once we’re settled, I gaze out at the vast view just as the city lights are starting to flicker on and shimmer in the purple dusk between day and night. I’m having so many feelings as I think about how we all live with hopes and dreams, and I wonder if it takes sheer magic to really make our most desired dreams come true.

  She leans over and gazes up at me. “What’s going on in that head of yours? Are you all right?”

  “I’m okay. Actually... a lot happened today that made me rethink everything, and just now I was thinking about you.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet,” she replies.

  I clear my throat. “You see, Brooke, I like you.”

  “I like you too, Nathan.”

  I nod and try to sort my thoughts. I’m not sure this is going the way it should. “I mean I really, really like you. And I know you have a sort of boyfriend, and you want me to hook up with Dani, but do you think…?” I swallow hard, not sure if I have the courage to continue.

  “Do I think what?” she patiently asks.

  “That maybe one day, when I’ve had more experience and you’re completely over being told that you aren’t good enough by Arnold, which really pisses me off by the way…”

  “I know it does,” she says with a sad smile. “You know if I didn’t love my job so much, and he wasn’t my boss, we would have been over long ago. I’m working on it, believe me.”

  “Do you think that if that happens one day, you would consider being my girlfriend? You can’t even imagine how good I would treat you … you’d be my queen. And I know I’m not a big executive yet, but I’m ambitious Brooke, and a really hard worker. One day I’m really going to make something of myself. Do you believe me?” I ask nervously.

  “Yes, I’m already sure that you will make something of yourself. Nathan, you told me once that you are self-publishing your own comic book. So in my mind, you are well on your way.”

  “Thank you. I’m very proud of my comic book.” She hasn’t replied to the rest of my question, and my eye starts twitching I’m so nervous.

  Brooke reaches over and takes my hand in hers. “As for the rest, Nathan … I think you’re amazing. Do you believe dreams do come true?”

  I nod. “Yes … yes I do.”

  “So do I. And we seemed destined to have met, so why don’t we take this one day at a time and see where things go. Alright?”

  “So that’s not a yes or a no. Am I right?”

  “Yes, you’re correct. It’s a maybe.”

  At first I’m a little disappointed, but then I give my self a mini-Wayne Dyer talk and decide I can live with that. “Okay, maybe is good.”

  She’s about to respond when something swoops over our heads, and we look up to see that a large owl has landed on the edge of her roof. He gazes down at us while we sit stunned, silently gazing back up at him. It’s both breathtaking and eerie at the same time. One long minute later, the owl spreads his majestic wings and takes off again into the night sky.

  “Wow,” I say as I let out the breath I was holding.

  Brooke squeezes my hand. “Did you know that’s a good omen for us?”

  “I didn’t, but I’ll take it,” I say with a grin.

  “I
love owls,” she says with a sigh.

  “I do too,” I agree. “And they’re so much better than cocky roosters. Don’t you agree?”

  She laughs and leans over so that we’re almost face-to-face. Then right before she kisses me, she whispers: “They are so much better in every way.”

  When our lips finally meet, it hits me that all that happened these last few weeks - and the drama of today - has been worth it. Because at this very moment I’ve got a maybe in my pocket, with big dreams for our future … and to top it all, Brooke is kissing me on her balcony under the stars and that’s better than anything.

  The End.

  ~A Note from the Author~

  I love our indie romance readers and writers, and being in this community has brought so many wonderful people and experiences into my life. I’m honored to be part of this collection which is driven by writers who are refusing to be bullied, and we’re determined to protect our creative rights. A huge thanks to our noble leader, Penny Reid, and to Fiona Fischer, CD Reiss and the others who have pulled this project together.

  Thank you dear reader for your support by purchasing this anthology!

  About the Author

  Ruth Clampett is a 21st century woman aspiring to be Wonder Woman…now if she could only find her cape and magic lasso. Meanwhile she’s juggling motherhood, a full-time job running her own art business, and writing romance late at night. Travel is her second obsession after writing, and it’s enabled her to meet reader and writer friends all over the world. She’s happily frazzled, and wouldn’t change a thing about her crazy life.

  * * *

  Ruth has published nine books: Animate Me, Mr. 365, the Work of Art Trilogy, WET, BURN, Unforgiven and Encore. She grew up and still happily resides in Los Angeles.

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  Animate Me https://amzn.to/2IlUMd5

  Unforgiven https://amzn.to/2ICY5jd

  Encore https://amzn.to/2rEScIS

  Burn https://amzn.to/2GfcahM

  Wet https://amzn.to/2GfusPG

  Mr. 365 https://amzn.to/2rIDYFY

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  Work of Art~Book 1 The Inspiration https://amzn.to/2L49QgS

  Work of Art~Book 2 The Unveiling https://amzn.to/2L4afjo

  Work of Art~Book 3 The Masterpiece https://amzn.to/2KXeL3f

  Work of Art~The Collection https://amzn.to/2IlmzdB

  Illusionist Seeks Neanderthal

  L.H. Cosway

  Have you ever wondered what would happen when two characters from completely different book worlds collide? Well, wonder no more. Illusionist Seeks Neanderthal is a short story featuring Jay Fields (Six of Hearts) and Janie Morris (Neanderthal Seeks Human).

  Copyright © 2018 by L.H. Cosway

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  One

  Some time ago, before there was ever a Quinn or a Matilda, two curious souls crossed paths…

  *Jay*

  This prick isn’t gonna see shit.

  He’s all up in my grill, bald head a shining, beady little hawk eyes following my every move. They always have the same idea, thinking if they keep their focus on my hands they’ll catch me off guard. Figure out the trick.

  Wrong.

  It’s the ones who stand back, outside the gathered crowd, only vaguely interested, that you’ve got to watch for. You ever been hanging out, waiting for a bus, or I dunno, standing outside a store waiting for your girl to try shit on, your eyes disinterestedly scanning the street, when all of a sudden you randomly spot some motherfucker slipping his hand inside a purse and stealing someone’s wallet? The same rules apply to illusion. You’re far more likely to see what I’m really up to if you’re not actually looking.

  I was in Chicago, one of my favorite cities. I had a couple night club shows lined up but today I’d taken to the streets, mainly because I needed some extra cash to pay for my hotel. I never really made a whole lot from my gigs, a couple hundred dollars at most, but I figured if I just kept performing, kept on hustling, maybe one day I’d make it to Vegas. That was where you earned the big money.

  “You’ve got a card hidden inside your shirt sleeve, don’t ya?” said Baldy, perspiration collecting on his forehead he was concentrating so hard. A decent crowd had gathered but this dude was killing my buzz. I didn’t get why some people couldn’t just enjoy the show, they wanted to know how you were pulling it off. And they were always disappointed when you gave them the truth. That’s why I never did. I hated the look of disillusionment in their eyes, much preferred the glittering excitement of mystification.

  Shuffling the deck, I slid it back in my pocket and stepped away from him. “That’d be telling, buddy.” His lips firmed in annoyance but I decided to ignore him and move onto another trick. “Okay, I need a volunteer for this next one, anyone interested?”

  “Me! I’ll do it,” said Baldy but I pretended I didn’t hear him, eyes scanning the crowd.

  “I’d like to volunteer,” a tall, pretty red head who was waving her hand eagerly in the air enthused.

  I smiled and gave her a quick sweep up and down, a silent interview if you will. Right off the bat I knew she wasn’t gonna work. I had to admit though, she was smokin’. Intelligent eyes, too. She had that whole sexy librarian thing going on. From what I could see under her dark green sweater, she had a fantastic rack, legs that went on for miles and a face that made fools out of men. I’d certainly have some fun unbuttoning all that prim and proper.

  “Sorry, darlin’, but I don’t think you’re right for this one,” I said, my tone apologetic. “Someone else.” I moved my attention over the crowd and found a short guy with his hand up. Unlike the red head, this dude was perfect. I was just about to call him forward when prim and proper spoke up.

  “Why not?” Her brow was furrowed and she looked disappointed, like a kid who’d just been told she was too short to ride the rollercoaster.

  I gave her another once over and reconsidered. There was something about her that made me feel bad, something that made me want to give her what she wanted.

  “What do you do for a living?” I asked.

  Maybe this could work. Maybe. I already had a fair idea of her profession, the top three possibilities being a statistician, an economist or an accountant.

  What told me this, you ask? Well, a number of things, but we won’t get into those now.

  “I’m an accountant.”

  Booyah. Unfortunately, though, my first guess was correct. This trick just wouldn’t work with her.

  “I’m sorry. I gotta go with this dude,” I said, nodding over to the other guy who’d volunteered.

  She appraised me curiously. “Why?”

  “Just the way the cookie crumbles.”

  “I’d really like to know,” she persisted.

  “Stick around and maybe we’ll talk,” I told her, then moved toward the man. I had no idea why I’d said that. People asked me questions all the time, but I never offered explanations. This woman, though, I liked the look in her eyes, if that made sense. Nevertheless, she didn’t seem too happy with my brush off, folding her arms over her chest. I didn’t really intend to reveal anything to her, but I did want to talk to her some more. Maybe she’d be open to joining me for a drink in one of the many bars that lined the street.

  Pulling a pen and a piece of paper from my pocket, I handed them to the guy. “What’s your name?”

  “Ben,” he answered, seeming a small bit nervous now that everybody’s attention was on him. It was perfect.

  “Okay, Ben, think of an object. Any object. Picture it in your head. You got one?”

  “Yeah.”

  I watched him intently. �
�All right, not that one. Change it. Now change it again. One more time. Right, now you can safely say there’s no way I could know what it is, right? In fact, go ahead and pick a different one. This is the last time, I promise. You all set?”

  He nodded. “Now, I want you to draw it for me. I’m gonna go stand over there with my back turned so there’s no possible way I could see.”

  I walked away and he immediately started drawing. Turning, I counted to twenty in my head. “You done, Ben?” I called over my shoulder.

  “Yeah,” he replied.

  “All right, now I want you to fold that bad boy up and put it in your pocket, somewhere I ain’t gonna get my hands on it.” Once he’d tucked the paper safely inside the back pocket of his jeans, I pulled a five-dollar bill from my wallet and handed it to the red head.

  “Do me a favor and go grab me a paper from the newsstand, would ya, gorgeous?” I asked and a small blush colored her cheeks.

  She looked away and I could see that something I’d said caught her off guard; her response a squeaky, “Okay.”

  I enjoyed watching her walk away, my eyes roaming that shapely behind. When she returned she handed me the paper, neatly folded in half. Her pretty eyes were alight with interest and I could tell she was getting a real kick out of all this. She might not have been a good candidate to volunteer, but she was the ideal spectator. I could tell she was bursting with questions but was holding them all back. Sometimes the human desire to be surprised trumped the need for knowledge, even in a woman as curious as this one.

  I shook out the news rag then very carefully opened it to reveal a folded piece of paper inside the middle page. Some interested mutterings sounded from the onlookers while Ben swore under his breath, “What the hell?”