by Lori Leger
The redhead piped up. “No, this is fine. It’s a military thing, Sarah. They can’t stand not to see what’s going on behind them. Hi Mitchell, I’m Melanie Finley.” She extended her hand. “My friends call me Mel, and boy have I heard a lot about you.”
“The only Mel I’ve heard Sarah talk about is a cop. Is that you?”
“Afraid so.” She bared straight, white teeth in a beautiful smile.
”Nice to meet you, Mel. So you live here in Lake Coburn?”
“No, I live in Lafayette but I try to come by at least once a week to have lunch with Sarah and see the twins.”
“How do you two know each other?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“Uh, I guess I actually have Troy to thank for some good people coming into my life,” Sarah admitted.
“Yep. I was one of the cops who found her and the girls locked in that bedroom. We’ve gotten pretty close since then.”
“Speaking of friends, we just missed Tanner Collins, another friend of mine I was hoping to introduce both of you to. I saw his Lexus leaving the parking lot as we were driving in.”
Mitch recognized a hint of disappointment in her voice, wondered how she’d feel when she discovered he’d met the guy already.
“That’s too bad. Maybe I’ll catch him another time.”
Tanner pulled the pillow over his head, trying to block out the sound of his neighbors. As per their usual date night routine, they came in amidst an argument that lasted the better part of an hour. As soon as it broke, he knew what to expect. Sure enough, a few minutes of quiet led to what he knew would be a no-holds-barred, all night bout of ‘I don’t give a rat’s ass who hears us’ make-up sex.
On a good night, he found it slightly amusing.
Tonight was not one of those nights. Every time he closed his eyes an image of Sarah had appeared. It wasn’t any easier, knowing he had about zero percent chance in hell of being a part of her life.
He rolled out of bed and jerked on a pair of jeans over his boxer briefs, deciding to keep the black T-shirt he already wore. He slid on a pair of socks and jammed his feet into his size eleven boots, trying to block out the crescendo of moans and banging headboard. He grabbed wallet and keys, knowing two things, for certain. First, it would only get louder and much more vocal; and second, in his current mood, he just might do something that’d get him thrown out of the condo if he didn’t get the hell out of there.
After splashing water on his face, his gaze landed on the card that diner waitress had given him. He picked it up and read it again, stuffing it into his wallet before heading to his car.
If the annoying thud of overly heavy bass, combined with the stench of cigarette smoke, was any indication of how his night would go, Tanner figured he was in for a big letdown. Instead of using good sense and ditching the plan, he decided anything was an improvement over an entire night of a banshee wailing “Give it to me, Big Daddy!” and the answering grunts of “Take it aaa-ll, Baby,” and “Tell Big Daddy what you need!”.
“Ah hell. What’ve I got to lose?” he mumbled, fighting his way through a gyrating throng of twenty somethings, some of them just barely, from the looks of it. He stopped long enough to observe his surroundings. “Oh God. You’re not really gonna do this, are you, Collins?”
He took a deep breath and decided to go for it, pushing his way easily through the throng to end up at the overflowing bar area. Almost immediately, he spotted her, wearing a piece of black, lacey spandex with several strategically placed rips that probably passed for a dress to anyone in this place. She balanced on ridiculously tall heels while sucking down some two-toned pink and blue frozen drink through a straw. She stopped drinking long enough to pull a cherry from the glass with her fingers and pop it in her mouth. The stem protruded from her mouth, resembling an unlit fuse on a stick of dynamite. She licked her over-glossed lips painted the exact same shade of pink as the newly painted streaks in her hair.
‘Pink’ reached over the bar to pull the bride of Frankenstein close for an open mouthed kiss. Ms. Frankenstein, complete with green and black hair, and wearing even less clothing than the other, pulled back, brandishing the cherry stem in her own mouth. Obviously, this was the “bestie bartender” she’d referenced.
Tanner groaned, more repulsed than he ever thought he could be from a ‘girl on girl’ scenario. He turned, giving his head a violent shake as he imagined the STD’s running rampant in the bar room. He pivoted, fighting his way back to the exit to emerge into the clean night air of downtown Lake Coburn. He glanced north, seeing the tastefully lit sign touting Red McAllister’s club. It was located on the opposite side of the street and further down the block, nearer to where he’d parked his car. He knew there’d be either a country band or a good DJ and no smoking, with clientele who acted a little less…daring? Yeah, as much as he hated to admit it, he was definitely getting too old to be playing the one-night-stand game with women barely half his age.
He started walking, hoping the distance was far enough to eliminate at least some of the stench from his clothing. Regardless of being casually dressed, and he had to admit to feeling more comfortable in jeans, T-shirt, and western boots, he still preferred smelling like Armani over cigarettes.
Once inside, he made his way to the bar and smiled at the pleasantly familiar face greeting him.
“Hey Tanner, what can I get for you?”
Her east Texas drawl reminded him of growing up in Houston. “How are you tonight, Meagan?”
“Looks like it’s going to be just busy enough to make the night fly by without having to go home and pop an ibuprofen or two afterwards.”
“Good. I’ll have a Dos Equis Amber, please, with a slice of lime if you have any.”
“Of course we do,” she said, returning with his beer and a plate of extra lime slices.
“Thanks hon, that’ll do.” He closed his eyes to take a deep draught, appreciating the combination of icy smooth and tanginess. “God, that’s good.”
“Coldest beer in town,” she said, polishing the already shiny surface area. “Where the heck have you been, all reeking of ashtray? Are you two-timing me with another bartender one evening every week?” She gave him a good-natured wink.
He took a second swig then pointed at her with his beer bottle. “Meagan, if you’d been witness to what I just saw, you’d know how serious I am when I say I’ll never stray from you again.”
“That bad, huh? Where’d you go?”
He used his thumb to point in the direction of the place he’d just come from. “Some dive just down the street and a half block south. It didn’t take me more than a minute to realize I was in the wrong place.” He lifted the ribbed neckline of his shirt and sniffed at it. “Just long enough to pick up the stench, obviously.”
“Stubby’s?” Meagan asked, incredulously. “You went to Stubby’s? I can’t imagine a younger you going to a place like that, much less the more mature, elegant Doctor Collins. What the hell made you go there?”
Tanner gave her a casual shrug but chose not to answer.
“Or who?” She shook her head, bubbling with laughter. “You were meeting a girl there, weren’t you? Oh, Lord, please tell me you knew better than to drink out of any open containers!”
“Hell, I didn’t want to touch a surface much less order a drink. I’d imagine the use of roofies is pretty rampant in a place like that.”
“Oh oh,” Meagan said, giving him a wink as her voice dropped an octave in warning. “Don’t look now, but I think one of them followed your trail over here.”
Tanner lowered his head, praying she was wrong. Unfortunately, the sudden reek of cigarette smoke told him differently.
“I thought that was you,” Charley drawled, occupying the stool next to him. “Should I be insulted?”
He looked at her and grinned. “Not at all. It’s just not my kind of place.”
“Yeah, now that I see you in your street clothes, I guess it isn’t.” She cast a sideways glance at hi
s western style boots. “Funny, I didn’t take you for the contemporary cowboy type.”
He took another sip of his beer. “More contemporary, than cowboy. Somebody told me once that jeans and boots would make me seem more approachable. It turned out to be comfortable as hell, so I stuck with the look.”
Tanner supposed Charley’s pause to stare at his crotch was some kind of vixen-ish attempt to say “Look at me! I’m a woman of the world!” She obviously thought she was making him feel uncomfortable. Poor kid had no idea how in-over-her-head she was.
“You buy me a drink?” she purred, leaning in to give him a good shot of significant cleavage.
“How old are you, Charley?” He looked away to take another swig of beer.
She ran the nail of one finger along his forearm. “I’m old enough to order my own drink. I’ll have a Screaming Orgasm,” she told Meagan before turning back to Tanner. “And I’m more than old enough to show you a good time.”
Meagan’s eyes sparkled with mischief an instant before she took a deep breath and yelled, at the top of her lungs.
“One Screaming Orgasm coming right up!”
She winked at a gape-mouthed Charley. “It’s kind of a game we play here at Red’s. Whenever anyone orders one of those silly little drinks, the owner wants us to yell it out, kind of like a promotional thing.”
Tanner smothered his laughter, seeing as how Meagan looked every bit as serious as he knew she wasn’t.
“You will have to show me some ID first.”
With one hand perched on her barely covered hip, Charley heaved an overly dramatic sigh. She pulled an ID from a tiny little clutch, also reeking of cigarette smoke and held it out for Meagan to see. “Satisfied?” she whined, like she’d just been asked to pick up someone else’s dog doo out of a city park.
“Since you’re asking, I’ve gotta admit it’s been awhile,” Meagan said, snatching the ID and holding it under a type of flashlight for closer examination. She threw it on the counter with a snort. “It’s every bit as fake as those boobs of yours.”
“They are not!” Charley said, putting both hands up to her breasts.
Meagan gave her a big cheesy grin. “I know, but the license is. Now you get on out of here before I call the cops on you for trying to get me in trouble with that pitiful excuse for a fake ID. By the way, that tattoo of yours…” She pointed at the single character inked on the inside of the girl’s left wrist. “I lived in Korea for twenty years. I don’t know what the loser who stole your money told you, but it’s a brand of Korean washing powder.”
Charley whipped her ID off of the counter and shot Meagan a look that could shrivel a weak man’s testicles. Shoving the card back inside her tiny little purse, she flounced off, uttering expletives and making rude hand gestures all the way to the exit. To add insult to injury, she tried to light up a cigarette before she got to the door, garnering the unwanted attention of at least five people, all of whom yelled at her. The bouncer walked over within seconds and threw her out.
Mitchell heard bits of the incident from the shadows, nursing a coke he’d purchased from the bartender at the opposite end of the club. Wanting to keep his presence a secret from Collins, he’d moved close enough to hear some, though not all of the conversation. Gauging how pissed off that diner waitress was when she left, she hadn’t been nearly as entertained by the incident as he had.
When Tanner left the bar a minute later, Mitch waited several seconds before hitting the same exit door. He swore low in his throat at the sight of Collins, his hand on the small of the girl’s back, helping her into his silver Lexus.
“Son of a bitch,” he groaned, watching the car drive off and turn the corner, out of sight. He didn’t need a crystal ball to know what those two would be doing for the rest of the night. He had to admit he was disappointed in Collins for his sister’s sake.
He’d always considered himself to be a pretty good judge of a man’s character. Even though Collins had wasted no time in saying he wasn’t good enough for Sarah, Mitch had sensed a trace of honor. Hell, it just proved that even he could be wrong. It also proved one more thing. Collins had spoken with total honesty.
Mitch gave his head a slow shake as he headed back inside, this time to the cute brunette’s end of the bar.
“Yes sir, what can I get for you tonight?” She beamed up at him.
He perked up at the twang that had Texas/Louisiana border stamped all over it. “Seven and seven, hold the lemon, one ice cube please,” he said. “Uh, Miss?” he asked, pulling out his wallet when she turned away to prepare it.
“Yes?”
He took out his driver’s license and handed it to her. “Don’t you need to check this first? I may be underage and trying to pass off a fake ID.”
She cracked a huge, good-natured grin. “Heard all that, did ya?”
“I didn’t catch it all, but I admit I was trying to. How’d you know her ID was a fake? You got an infrared moonbeam back here or something?”
She broke into laughter as she pulled out the bottle of Seagram’s whiskey and a glass and started to pour. “I didn’t know for sure, but I had a hunch. I bluffed and she took the bait.” She shook her head as she added the soda and ice. “That poor girl was more worried that I thought her…ahem …cleavage…was fake.” She put her hands up to her own comparatively modest neckline, and mimicked the look the young girl had given her. “They are not!”
Mitch leaned forward. “Tell me the truth, what did her tattoo read?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I’ve never been to Korea in my life.”
Mitch put his head back and bellowed with laughter. “That’s pretty good. I guess you get used to that sort of thing, working as a bartender. You been doing this long?”
She made a face. “Long enough, and believe me, in some joints a lot worse than this place.”
He made it a point to look around again, as though he hadn’t already given it the once over from force of habit. “It’s a nice place, my first time here.”
“Really? Well, welcome to Red’s!” She placed his drink in front of him. “The first one’s free, but it’ll be two-fifty after that.”
“You got some kind of special going on for new customers?” he asked, thinking he’d paid more than two-fifty for a drink ten years ago.
“Only for military. First one’s on the house and the rest are half price. Red says we should show our thanks and respect to our service men and women.”
“Did I say something to make you think I’m in the service?”
She leaned over, resting both arms on the bar. “You didn’t have to.” She winked at him before walking away to tend to another customer.
Before long, she returned. “You ready for another one?”
“You sure there’s no limit?”
“Not unless you start getting too big for your britches, in which case, I’ll have to either cut you off or throw you out.”
“Fair enough,” he said.
“You back for good?”
“Nah, I’m down visiting some family. Tell me the truth. How’d you know I was military? It’s been a while since my last high and tight. Surely it’s grown out enough not to give me away.”
She gave him a sad smile. “My fiancé was a Marine. He carried himself a certain way. Straight…proud…you move like him.”
“Was?” he asked, dreading her answer. He’d seen that look too many times.
She nodded. “IED in a place called Now Zad Valley in some province I can never remember the name of in southern Afghanistan.”
“Helmand province,” he finished for her as she nodded. “When?”
“December of ’09…just passed the third anniversary. Marine recon unit Task Force Raider.”
“Apocalypse Now-Zad…”
Her head cocked curiously. “Christopher used to call it that too. Were you a Raider?” she asked, sounding hopeful.
“No, I’m sorry, but I am a jarhead. The 1st Recon Battalion.”
; “Oooo…Black Diamond.” Her brows raised in obvious admiration. “Sons of Satan…”
“Oorah! You know your military divisions.”
“Only the Marines.” She smiled, wiping at a corner of her eye. “I don’t know what kind of a Marine he was, but Chris was a hell of a good man. Three years already,” she mused. “If you’d asked me then, I never would have said I’d have survived this long without him.” She sighed and wiped up a condensation spot from the bar. “But, here I am. Still serving drinks.”
“Life goes on, even after you bury a Marine.”
“Yes…yes, it certainly does.”
He sipped slowly at his drink. “So, how long have you worked here?”
“Since the place opened a couple of years ago. I worked in another of Red’s clubs in Lafayette until it burned down. When he opened this place in Lake Coburn, he gave his old employees first choice. I decided to make the move along with him.”
He leaned forward in his chair. “Where’d you live before then? No way in hell did you get that accent in Lafayette, the heart of Acadiana and Cajun Country.”
She smiled, shaking her head. “A little town in central east Texas with a population of 99, even though the sign still says 100. Trust me, you would never have heard of it, unless you were born there, like I was.”
“Thousands of towns like that all over this country. There’s no shame in being from one.”
“I’m not the one ashamed.” She shrugged at the question in his gaze. “I guess I’ve always enjoyed raising a few eyebrows with my actions.”
“A real trouble maker, huh?”
She leaned forward. “Oh yeah, a sinner of the worst kind.”
“What kind is that?”
She grabbed a towel, twisting it into a tight knot. “Unrepentant.”
“He slapped the bar with one hand. “Shameless!”
“Exactly, and Lord a mercy, if they knew I worked in a bar, I’d be written out of the town registry forever.”
“Undoubtedly.” He grinned. “Hell, I bet they’d even change that population sign, get it down to double digits again.”