“No,” he says. And looks whimsically away. “I think about her often. We lived a great life, Jasmine and I. No regrets. Except that she didn’t get to stick around longer.”
I swallow and feel my heart swelling.
Here I am with this guy. His wife’s been gone for over ten years, he’s ninety-two years old and he is still thinking about her when I bring up jasmine essential oil.
“That’s powerful,” I say.
He squints. “So you’re wondering about jasmine, the essential oil.”
“Yeah,” I laugh. “The oil that comes from the flower. You can take it and make oil out of it. Clarissa was explaining it to me.”
“Clarissa? Is that your girlfriend?”
I sigh because I don’t even know what to call Clarissa, my pretty good friend, my business partner, my fake girlfriend, my real girlfriend, fiancée. The hottie who I made out with last night?
It’s all so confusing.
Instead, I ask another question. “Have you ever told a little lie when you needed to get something?”
He scratches his chin. “No. Wait...okay. Once I did.”
“Oh yeah?” Relief surges through me. If a guy like Edgar has told a lie, I might be okay.
“Yes. When I was seventeen years old, I said I was eighteen so I could sign up for the military.”
“Holy shit. That was for World War II?”
Suddenly, I feel like shit. Edgar is telling lies so he can fight for his country and save the world. And I, on the other hand, am living out a lie for my own selfish benefit of being approved by the bank for a loan.
“Yeah. That’s right. I could have not gone. I mean, what I was gonna do? Stay around here. No. I kissed Jasmine, told her to wait for me. She did. So I came back and we got married immediately.”
“That’s it? You just got married?”
“Oh yeah. We did.” He moves his chess piece across the board taking my bishop.
“Fuck,” I say. “I didn’t see that coming.”
“You don’t see a lot of things coming. Do you?”
His tone is genuine but concerned, different from his usual trash-talking intonation.
“Yeah, what’s that supposed to mean?”
“I’m just saying you don’t see a lot of moves coming.”
Or maybe I’m reading too much into his tone. Who knows.
“Oh. I’m just a little bit worked up here.”
“Why are you asking me about a lie anyway?”
“Can you keep a secret?” I ask.
Edgar puts his arms out. “Oh come on. Who am I gonna tell? Esther? She doesn’t remember yesterday from 10 years ago.”
“I heard that!” Esther barks from her couch.
“Damn,” Edgar says. “I really have to get one of those hearing aids she has.”
“I know. It’s like she has like bionic ears now. It’s insane.” I chuckle.
I fill him in on the past few days and what has happened with me and Clarissa.
“You mean the nice young lady that works at the desk.”
“That’s right,” I say.
“Look, I’ve known you for a while. And I don’t know if you’re searching for my approval or what, but I see why you would lie. It makes sense. Normally, I don’t condone lying. This is tough. And especially when it comes to the matters of the heart, you have to be careful. Tread lightly. And then there is the other matter,” he adds as he takes another one of my pieces.
“What matter is that?” I ask, as I make another move.
“Life’s funny the way it just hits you sometimes. But the important thing to remember, sometimes you gotta strike when the iron is hot. Interpret that however you want. But sometimes kids from your generation, they just wait too long to sit in the scene.”
Strike where the iron’s hot. Where have I heard that before?
“Check,” I say as I move my rook into position.
“Uh oh!” Edgar says.
“That’s right. I’m getting better.”
He winks, then moves his queen to take my rook.
“Checkmate.”
I stare at the board, stunned at my loss.
“Damn. I really have to get better at looking at this from all angles.”
The truth, though, is that my mind is everywhere except for this chess game right now.
18
Mason
The Closed Circle of Gossip
In a small town, gossip travels fast.
But the good thing about small towns is that, if gossip doesn’t make it out in a small circle, no one will ever know.
And right now the only people who know about Clarissa and my “fake engagement” are me, Mrs. Crabtree, and Clarissa’s Mom, and maybe a few people who were at the pizzeria.
So who else would find out? Who else would know in the town? This is gonna be a cinch to pull off.
Our engagement is just going to be a little secret between me, Clarissa, and the bank.
No one else has to know.
These are my thoughts as I walk into the bar for the Saturday night shift at 5 PM.
“Yow Mason! What’s up man,” says the bar back, Johnny as soon as he sees me. “I heard about the engagement between you and Clarissa. Congrats man!”
“You heard about that?”
“Yeah man! My girlfriend is actually the server who waited on you at the pizza place yesterday so she was telling me all about it. I admire you for taking the leap. Clarissa is a great girl.”
“Yep. She’s really great,” I cough.
“We didn’t see that coming. I mean to be honest I didn’t even know you two were dating.”
“Yeah, we kind of kept it on the down low for the last few months,” I lie.
“That’s impressive! But hey, whatever the case, Congratulations.” He shakes my hand and looks at me with a genuine expression of happiness.
“Love comes in surprising ways sometimes,” I say. “Sometimes it hits you over the head and you even didn’t see it coming.”
“I feel that man. I feel that. You inspired me though. I’m going ring shopping for my girl.”
I clear my throat. “That’s great pal. That’s just—just great. Love is in the air. Well, get back to work. I’m gonna go do the night time alcohol inventory,” I say as I give Johnny a slap on the back and head to the liquor room.
I set down three cases of tequila as I think about what happened last night in the car with Clarissa.
Mostly, I think about how I want to do it again. I feel insatiable. I want to bring her into my bed and play ‘fifty shades of Clarissa’.
I stare at the cases of tequila, and back at my inventory sheet. The words are all out of focus, like I’m trying to read Chinese.
Fuck me, I can’t even think straight.
This is not like me.
I am Mason Worthington. The guy who never gives two thoughts to a woman, much less ever overthinks women.
But right now all I can picture are her sweet beautiful blue eyes, and how they looked when they rolled up into the back of her head as she came hard, clenching around my fingers.
I want that feeling again.
And as fun as it was to watch her moan, I don’t want it to be just my fingers, this time.
I look down at my cock and see its erection rapidly expanding my jeans. Am I getting a boner right now?
Shit.
Just then, a deep voice reverberates behind me.
“Worthington.”
I feel a hand on my shoulder, turn and see Sebastian Blackwell. The owner of the place.
“Oh hey. What’s up boss?” I say, hoping to God he didn’t just catch me checking out the status of my own dick.
“Oh you know. The usual. Watching you doing inventory, coming in for a quick roll through to see how everything is going. Are you okay?”
“Totally.”
“Really? Because you look like you’re dazed and confused. Like it’s the first time you’ve seen a bottle of tequila.”
He opens the box,
pulls out a bottle, puts it on the shelf, then gives me a suspicious glance.
I shrug. “No deal here. I just, ah...”
“Just what?” He says taking a step closer to me, folding his arms. Sebastian is a tough guy, and he knows how to read people. He’s Blackwell’s only millionaire. A self-made man.
“I mean I’m just making sure that the last shipment is correct. You know me. I am super anal about these things.”
“Yeah is that it?” He asks, taking a step toward me with a raised eyebrow.
I scratch my head and come up with a bullshit answer. I like Sebastian, but I’m not in the mood for this right now. “That’s all I can think of for now. Should be a solid Saturday night. The weather’s nice, so more people will be out.”
Sebastian chuckles. “Talking about the weather. Now I know something’s up.”
I swallow. “Not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Maybe the weird vibe has to do with the fact that you are trying to take out a loan to buy your own place.”
He stares me down, clenching his jaw. I stare back.
“That’s none of your business.”
“I beg to differ. So you are just gonna take everything you’ve learned, the connections you’ve made while working here, and get all of your regulars to walk down the road to have drinks at the new place, is that it?”
I stiffen. “It’s not like that, it’s a different part of town. They are plenty of bar going patrons to go around this town.”
“When it comes to business you know I am ruthless. Personally, I know you’re the best damn bartender in this town. When it comes to making me my Old Fashioned, there is no one who makes that quite like you. You’re more than a bartender. You’re a mixologist. Most people don’t get that about you.”
“Hey, I am not going anywhere.” I say. “Until I open the bar, it’s just a part-time activity of planning. For now, I don’t know one-hundred percent if I have funds secured. Although it is likely.”
He nods. “I see. Look. If you quit with two weeks’ notice I’m gonna be pissed off. I need you to train another head bartender so I’m not hung out to dry.”
“I got you.” I say. “Of course. I can train someone right off. It’s October now, we’d be lucky to open our place by January. Johnny has been around for a while. He knows the ropes pretty well so I think I’ll get him going.”
Sebastian runs a hand through his hair. “I trust you. Goddammit Mason I did trust you. You are an honest guy. You know that.”
I clear my throat and a weird feeling of slight pride comes along over me. Sebastian is not one who dishes out compliments liberally.
“Wow. Those are some soft words coming from the king. What’s up, are you losing your edge?”
Sebastian snickers. “Nah. Nothing like that.”
As I put the last couple of bottles of tequila onto the shelf, something hits me. “Oh. Is this...about a girl?!”
He glances down and I know instantly that I’m right.
“Look, let’s not get off topic. I offered you the only damn compliment I’ve given an employee in years. I don’t think that this bar would’ve been as successful as it has been for the last seven years and as much as I hate the fact that you’re gonna be leaving, I respect the hell out of you. No one’s cut off more drunkards than you have here in Blackwell and that’s commendable.” He smacks a hand on my back. “Alright well I’m getting the hell out of here. I got some shit to do.”
“Hell yeah,” I say with a smile. “What kind of shit does Sebastian Blackwell get into on a Saturday night? I’m curious.”
“You fucking bartenders. Always sticking your nose in the town’s business.”
I smirk, holding the door for him. “It’s true. I could write a book about all the shit I’ve overheard people saying about their love lives. Blackwell lights up after dark.”
“Hey speaking of ladies, what is this about you getting hitched? You didn’t tell me anything about that.”
I grind my teeth. “Yeah-about that. I’m trying to keep it on the down low.”
“Oh yeah well they’re talking about it at the soccer game today at the high school.”
I shake my head out because there are so many things wrong with that. Why would Sebastian Blackwell be at a high school soccer game in Blackwell. And second, does everyone know about this thing already?
I sigh as I lock the door.
“So people were just talking about us at the soccer game. What the hell.”
“The ladies are pretty heartbroken that their heartthrob bartender is taken now. I think you might see a drop in your tips in the bar tonight, to be honest with you.”
I laugh. “Guess I had that coming.”
“That’s love right? I’m happy for you man. Finally, settling down. I guess it happens to all of us, right? Who’s the lucky girl?”
“Just...a girl I know named Clarissa.”
His eyes zoom through the bar. “Wait, you mean, Clarissa Hanks? Cole’s sister?”
I nod.
“Holy shit! Good luck with that one, man. I always thought he’d be pissed if one of his friends dated his sister. I guess not.”
Sebastian heads out, and as he does, I notice Clarissa is off to the side, talking to a table.
She shoots me a devilish smile that contains so much damn information.
Her ring sparkles when a bit of light hits it.
And I wonder again what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
19
Mason
Off-Night
Tonight’s crowd has a weird vibe, different than most nights.
All night, I have to watch my gorgeous fake fiancée flirting with every guy who comes to the table.
Or maybe I am just imagining it? I don’t know.
That jealousy wasn’t there before, but now it is. I used to just think we were good friends and it was funny to watch guys trying to flirt with her, like Mr. Married-Balding man a few nights ago.
She wears the uniform so freaking well, by uniform I mean she has a sexy mini black skirt on with leggings. And she’s got her nerd game on with her big glasses, a bit of makeup and...I think I can see her nipples.
Is she even wearing a bra?
“Mason!” Johnny says loudly, jolting me out of my day dream. “Table ten wants a remake on their pineapple spritzer.”
“Oh, what happened with it?”
“Did you make them the non-alcoholic or alcoholic?” He asked.
“Non-alcoholic.”
“Dude they wanted alcoholic. I told you.”
“Shit. My bad.”
“What’s up with you tonight man?”
I clear my throat. “Nothing.” I say as I remake the drink. “I’m doing fine.”
“No, you’re not. Tables are mad. You’re not in the game one hundred percent like usual. You don’t mess up orders, man.”
“I said, don’t worry about it. I’m making it on the fly right now.”
I finish making the drink, and all the listed drink tickets that come in. Clarissa walks over to me and bends over the drink,, flashing her cleavage in my face.
“Hey you what’s up?” she says with a grin, running her tongue along the top of her lips.
“What’s up yourself? How’s the night going, getting those tips?”
“Definitely. A lot of good tips tonight, I don’t know what it is.”
I lean in. “I think I know.”
“Do you? Tell me.”
“You’re glowing Clarissa,” I wink.
“Oh really? What I am glowing from?”
“I think you’re glowing from that orgasm you had last night,” I growl in a gravelly whisper.
She drops her jaw.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that in here.”
“Why not? You don’t wanna talk about how hard you came with me? That’s fine. You don’t have to talk about how sweet your moan sounded or how tight-”
“Hey guys! Sorry to interrupt.” John
ny says. “But do you make your old fashioned with Makers Mark or Bulleit?” Johnny asks.
“I use Makers Mark unless they request otherwise.”
“Okay. Cool. I’ll remake this one with Bulleit since we’re pretty swamped. That okay?”
“Of course.”
Johnny heads to the other end of the bar to make his drink.
“We can’t talk like that while we are here.” Clarissa says.
“He didn’t hear anything. I’m an expert at saying things under my breath. Don’t worry.”
“We really need to have a talk.”
“What about?” I say and she shakes her head.
“About how the entire town knows we’re ‘engaged’.” She makes quotations with her fingers. “I’m pretty sure I have like ten congratulations text today. One came in from my cousin, who is living abroad in Africa right now! What the hell!”
“Fucking Facebook.” I clench my fist.
“Facebook?”
“Never mind. I know. Sebastian Blackwell told me everyone was talking about us at the high school soccer game. We’re hot gossip right now.”
“What the fuck?” She rakes her hand through her hair. “Everybody knows about us already?”
I sigh. “I guess so. Let’s just make it to the end of the shift and then we can talk about it.”
“Deal.”
As the night progresses, I get back in my rhythm. Every time I talk to Clarissa it’s like I feel a little bit more energized. I make some drinks and kick out a few drunks and everybody has a good time. Just like they always do at The Watering Hole.
After we close, I am cleaning up and it’s just me, Johnny and Clarissa. We wipe everything down. The clock shows 3:30 AM, and the speakers blast Justin Timberlake.
I walk over to Johnny and hand him his percentage of the tip as barback.
“Nice job tonight man,” I say. “And I wanted to ask. You want to train as a bartender?”
“For real?”
“For real. I need another hand behind the bar.”
“Oh hell yeah! Thanks Bro!”
“Alright. I’ll catch you later.”
And then it’s just the two of us. Clarissa sits on the bar stool across from me.
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