by Rye Hart
Leilani saw that she was getting nowhere and left with an annoyed roll of the eyes. Greg stared at me, mouth open.
“What? I didn't want to waste the poor girl's time,” I said. “Unless you wanted to fuck her. If so, have at it. I'm not going to stop you.”
“I always forget how blunt you are, man.”
“No point in beating around the bush,” I said. “She wasn't going to get anywhere with me and she needs to earn a living after all. Better she finds somebody willing to pay for her services.”
Danielle had always hated this place, and I could see why. Temptation and vice lurked in every corner. Beautiful women threw themselves at you left and right. She'd never had anything to worry about when she was with me, though. I took my promises very seriously, and cheating went against everything I stood for. If you're not happy with your current partner, leave. Don't fuck around with them and don't fuck around on them.
Not that I'd always felt that way but seeing how an affair turned my mother's life upside down and changed her, I'd sworn to never get caught up in that sort of thing myself. For her. Because I knew if my mother ever discovered I was unfaithful like my father, it would kill her. That was the last thing I ever wanted to do.
“Well, look who's here,” Greg said.
I looked up and followed his eyes to see what he was staring at, and spotted Casey – the feisty, take no shit waitress he'd talked about earlier. She saw us and smiled, a huge, genuine smile that showed off her full lips. Her dark, nearly black hair had caramel highlights I'd never noticed before – and I only noticed then because the light hit her hair just right. Her thick, wavy hair fell down around her shoulders and down her back. Her skin was almost too pale for hair that dark and reminded me a lot of Snow White. But, it was her large brown eyes that seemed to tie all together.
“You should go talk to her,” Greg said.
“I told you, I'm not interested in dating right now,” I said. “I have a lot of family stuff to deal with. I don't have the time or interest for anything else.”
“Suit yourself,” he said. “So, what was that important family meeting about anyway?”
I hesitated and wished I had a drink. I wasn't sure it was something I wanted talk about outside the family – even with Greg. He may have been my friend, but he was not the most level-headed of guys out there. Not to mention the pressure he'd put on me to sleep around would have been even stronger, because he'd be able to hold the whole baby thing over me.
Not that I'd wanted to impregnate some random woman I met in the club anyway. That's not how I wanted to go about doing this. I wasn't sure how I wanted to go about it, but I knew that wasn't the way.
“My dad has a brain tumor,” I said.
I looked up again, and saw that Casey was making her way toward us to get us some drinks, which couldn't have come at a better time. I had the sudden urge for something stiff to take the edge off.
“Fuck, man,” Greg said. “I'm really sorry to hear that.”
Casey asked, “Sorry to hear what?”
Greg answered before I had the chance to shut him down. “His old man is dying.”
“I didn't say he was dying.”
I flinched as I remembered what Dad had said. It was terminal, even if the tumor was benign. Casey looked at me, wide-eyed as if she was trying to decide whether or not she should stick around. There was nothing but kindness in compassion in those big doe-eyes of her.
“It's okay,” I said. “It's a brain tumor, it's benign, but he's still terminal. He's got a few years left in him, at least.”
Casey's eyes softened, and she said, “I can come back, if you need to talk to your friend.”
“No, it's fine. I need a drink,” I said, smiling up at her. “Can I have the usual?”
“Scotch on the rocks, got it,” she said and turned to Greg. “And for you?”
Greg slid over in the seat, making it obvious that he was checking out her ass, his neck craning to get a view. A slick, greasy smile made its way across his face and I just shook my head.
“I'll take whatever you're offering, sugar,” Greg said, his voice dripping with suggestion.
The smile on Casey's grew, and she spoke with the sweetest voice possible. “You couldn't handle what I have to offer up, sugar.”
The last word dripped with sarcasm, and I stifled a laugh. She continued grinning down at him, as if everything was fine. Greg, on the other hand, didn't take a hint easily. If anything, he seemed encouraged by what she said. Dumbass.
“Oh yeah?” he asked, sounding like a greasy, used car salesman. “Well, I'd certainly like to try –”
He reached out to grab her ass, but she was faster than he was. A lot faster. She grabbed his arm with the well-practiced ease of a woman used to fending off creepers. She gripped his arm and held it tight.
“Listen, I just had a run-in with Jon Lincoln – you know, the big asshole football star that's built like The Hulk?” she sneered. “And you've got nothing on him. If I can make him run out of here like a little bitch, you sure as hell don't stand a chance, dude. So, do yourself a favor and back off.”
I tried not to laugh. Greg finally got the hint, a flash of embarrassment in his eyes.
“It's alright. I was only joking around anyway,” he said, sounding a little more subdued than angry. “Give me a rum and Coke.”
“Sounds good,” Casey said. “So, one pussy frat boy drink, and a real man's Scotch on the rocks. Comin' right up.”
She winked at me as she turned to go get our drinks. Greg leaned back and licked his lips, checking out her ass as she walked away.
“She's totally into me,” he declared, about as self-aware as a rock.
“Sure, man,” I chuckled.
My own eyes, almost seeming to be acting of their own volition, followed her back to the bar. She did have a nice ass and curves for miles. I couldn't blame Greg for wanting to check her out.
“Nah, seriously, she's playing hard to get,” he said. “But, before too long, she'll be begging for my cock. Just wait and see, brother. Wait and see.”
I rolled my eyes and reminded myself to never, ever tell him about needing to knock a girl up for my inheritance. The last thing I needed was him trying to push me on every hot woman that walked our way. Hell, he was already doing that and didn't know my inheritance rested on me having a baby within the next year.
Some things are better left unsaid between friends. Especially when you had a friend like Greg.
“I'm going to take a piss,” he said.
Casey was right. Greg still acted like an immature little frat boy. In most ways, he was. He never had to grow up and out of that mentality because his dad always pulled his ass out of the fire when needed. It was needed pretty often.
We'd gone to college together – not that Greg had actually tried to succeed in college. He'd just showed up to party and join his dad's fraternity. Partying and girls were the only things he'd been interested in, knowing he was set for life. Being the only child of a billionaire had to be nice. It had to give you a sense of security – and had to kill any desire or sense of urgency to succeed on your own.
At one time, I'd known what that was like.
Greg got up and walked toward the bathroom, leaving me alone at the table. A couple of moments later, Casey came back with our drinks.
“Did I scare your friend away?” she asked.
“No, he's just in the bathroom,” I said. “He'll be back.”
“Lucky me,” she grumbled. Then her smile returned, almost like she'd forced it to. “Is there anything else I can help you with? And please, no pickup lines, I've had more than my fair share tonight and none of them are all that original.”
“Don't worry,” I said. “I'm not interested in picking you, or anyone else up. You're safe from me. Promise.”
“Good boy,” she said. “Especially since you have that hot girlfriend back home. Nice to know some men can remain loyal.”
“You – you remember Da
nielle?”
She shrugged. “I remember all my regulars,” she said with a smile. “It usually pays off. In tips, I mean.”
“Of course.”
I started to tell her that Danielle and I were no more, but it seemed unnecessary. Not like she'd care. She was merely being friendly and making conversation to get a good tip out of it. I pulled out my wallet and passed her a fifty-dollar bill.
“Do you want to close out your tab already?” she asked.
“No, that's for you,” I said. “We'll pay the tab later. I just figure you deserve a little something for putting up with assholes like my friend.”
She smiled, “Thanks, Mr. Crane.”
“Malcolm,” I said. “Please, call me Malcolm.”
“I'll remember that, Malcolm.”
“I have no doubt you will.”
We shared a smile between us, and I had to admit, I was enjoying it. Casey wasn't relationship material – not with her cocky attitude and her nose ring. A nose ring that I'd only just noticed for the first time. My parents would have died if I brought a girl like her home for family dinner. They were very traditional and very conservative about a great many things.
Greg came back from the bathroom and slipped into the booth. Casey's eyes went back to him, and her face changed in the briefest of moments. She went from a friendly and open expression with me to one of pure disdain and contempt, and then just like that, it changed back to being pleasant again.
“Did you find it okay?” she asked Greg, her face innocent as ever.
“The bathroom? Yeah, I've been here before –”
“No, I meant your dick. The lighting's dim and it's hard to see tiny things,” she laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she turned and walked away.
I couldn't hold it in any longer and burst into laughter. “She got you, man.”
“Yeah, well that's not the last word. We have all night, brother,” he said, punching me in the arm. “Before the night is over, she'll know exactly where my cock is, because it'll be inside her tight little – ”
I stopped him right there. “Please, I don't need to imagine you balls deep in our waitress.”
The image tugged at something inside of me, but I didn't know what it could have been. The way he talked about Casey, the way he objectified her and boiled her down to somebody worthy of no more than being his personal fucktoy, bugged me more than usual.
Probably because her taunting brought out the worst in Greg. It was like, the more she screwed with him, the more he wanted her and the more foul-mouthed he got about it.
“Why? You jealous?” he asked, smirking.
“No, why would I be jealous?” I asked. “She's a fucking cocktail waitress.”
“Come on, I saw the way you looked at her,” Greg said. “But if you're not going to bone her, I will. Wouldn't want a sweet little ass like that to go to waste.”
“She's cute, I'm a warm-blooded male, so I check her out,” I said, “but I've already told you, I'm not interested in dating anyone right now. Things are way too complicated as it is.”
“Fine,” Greg said. “I guess she's all mine then.”
“Happy hunting, brother,” I said. “But, I think you're coming back from this one empty handed.”
I shook my head and focused on my drink. I knew there was no way in hell Greg was going to land Casey. She wasn't just out of his league, she was playing an entirely different game than he was. But, watching her shoot him down again and again was entertaining.
“Go for it,” I said. “And if you bed her, I'll seriously be impressed.”
Greg wasn't used to being turned down. He was an attractive, wealthy guy. Kind of like me in a lot of ways. He could get any woman he set his eyes on, normally, but Casey was different. She was a challenge. She wasn't falling for his usual tactics, which only seemed to drive Greg crazier by the minute.
My insides twisted and turned, and I took a drink of my Scotch. This feeling inside of me was unfamiliar, and I didn't like it one bit. Danielle had really fucked me over but good.
“Alright, my turn for the bathroom,” I said, sliding out of the booth. “I'll be right back.”
“If I'm not here, I'm banging Casey in the grotto upstairs,” he said.
I chuckled. She had standards. Not that I'd ever say that to my friend, but it was the truth. A lot had changed since college, but the one constant was that Greg was still the immature, horny dick he'd always been.
At least there was some continuity in my life. Hooray for that.
CHAPTER FOUR
CASEY
“God, that guy is such a prick,” I muttered to Raya, who was standing beside Tommy at the bar. I looked over at my friend and chuckled, “I thought they banished you. Aren't you supposed to be in the back?”
Tommy looked over at her and shook his head. “She can't resist hanging around me,” he said. “She just has to be near me. I can't get rid of her.”
“Sure, buddy,” Raya laughed. “It's all about you, isn't it? Nah, I just needed some fresh air. I hate working in the back.”
“Then come back to the front,” Tommy said. “Sounds like an easy choice to me.”
“And look like a whore looking for her next sugardaddy?” she asked. “No thank you, I have standards.”
I threw a look her way. “Gee, thanks,” I said.
Raya laughed and waved me off. “You know I didn’t mean you,” she said. “Besides, I’m thinking about taking off anyway.”
“In the middle of your shift?” I cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, why not?” she smirked. “I can always get another job. This one is getting old anyway.”
“Must be nice,” I muttered. I looked up at my friend, and realized I'd miss her if she went. “You really going to leave me all alone? With him?”
I pointed at Tommy who was slinging drinks for a couple surfer-looking dudes further down the bar.
“Come with me,” Raya said, taking my hands in hers. She smiled wide. “We can work at some coffee house or get a job selling t-shirts on the boardwalk in Santa Monica. Anything beats this place.”
“Yeah, except the pay doesn't add up to the same,” I said. “And I have responsibilities. As much as I'd love to walk out, I'm going to have to pass.”
“Not everything is about money, Casey,” she whined
“Sure, except when you don't have enough to go around, or you're struggling to make ends meet, then it kinda is all about money.”
I groaned and walked away before I got into it with her. Raya's parents might have been hippies, like serious hippies that actually named their daughter Raya Sunshine, but they were fairly wealthy hippies. Not super rich like Malcolm Crane or his buddy Greg's parents, but well off enough that if Raya wanted to, she could just sit at home and make art all day, every day.
They owned their own business, something artsy and popular with the hipsters. I tried to avoid talking about parents if I could, because it inevitably lead to the other person asking about my own parents, and that was a conversation I didn't care to have.
My bladder reminded me that it had been hours since my last bathroom break. Since I didn't see Leon anywhere out there on the floor, I figured it was safe to take a quick break. A really quick break. As in, I ran over to the bathrooms as fast as I could, trying to keep an eye out for Leon. In the madness of trying to sneak a pee unseen by my boss, I wasn't watching where I was going and ran smack dab into someone.
I fell backward, but he caught me, grabbing my arm and keeping me from falling ass over teakettle onto the ground.
“Easy there,” he said.
I looked up into the gorgeous face of Malcolm Crane. My heart fluttered a bit when I looked into his eyes. Sue me, I couldn't help it. He had to be the most attractive man I'd ever seen, and yeah, if I were being honest, I'd admit to the fact that I had the tiniest of crushes on him.
Not that I'd have ever actually dated him – he was too rich and powerful and alpha male for my liking. Besides,
he hung out with guys like Greg, and I figured that said a lot about his personality.
Still, my pulse raced as I stared into those baby blue eyes.
“Thanks,” I said, righting myself. He still had ahold of me, almost like he was afraid to let go. “I really need to use the bathroom, can't you tell?”
Oh, great. Way to be smooth, Casey, talk about going to pee. How sexy. “Funnily enough, that's where I'm headed to,” he said.
He just stood there, staring at me as if he expected me to say something. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I just stood there, looking like an idiot, with my mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.
Finally, I managed to stammer, “I'm really sorry about your dad.”
Nice job, Casey. Remind him of his dying dad. Yeah, that's great. Really sensitive.
He looked confused for a second, then the conversation we'd heard earlier hit him. His face fell, and he looked down at the floor. The pain in his eyes was unmistakable. He was obviously close to his parents, which was something I admired.
“Thank you,” he said. “I mean – well, what am I supposed to say in a situation like this? I have no idea. There's not an instruction manual for dealing with grief or anything.”
“Sometimes just talking about it helps,” I said without thinking. Like this uber rich guy was going to reveal his deepest fears and sorrows to the girl that brought him his scotch.
I reached out and gave his arm a squeeze, which surprised us both.
“I really need to –”
Leon's voice cut through the music, “Casey! Get over here and clean up this spill.”
I flinched.
“Well, I guess I lost my chance to use the bathroom,” I muttered, trying to be funny.
Malcolm looked up and caught Leon's eye, calling out to him. “She's helping me with something, Mr. Bryant,” he said. “Is it okay if I borrow her for a second?”
I stared at Malcolm, wide-eyed and slack jawed.
“Oh, Mr. Crane,” Leon said, walking over to us. “I'm so sorry, I didn't see you over here.”
The two men shook hands and exchanged pleasantries while I stood there just watching the both of them. My bladder continued screaming at me. I was so close, yet so far away, from finally relieving myself.