“What the hell is wrong with you Landon?” Dean asks with his eyebrows furrowed.
A satisfied grin is set on Blake’s face as she leans back in the booth crossing her arms over her chest. I look at her answering Dean’s question. “Nothing.”
“Mmmhmm,” he answers, cocking his head to the side looking at me skeptically.
A waitress appears out of nowhere saying, “Hey. Welcome to Wings Haven. My name’s Sam and I’ll be your waitress. What can I get you all to drink tonight?”
“I’ll take a coke please,” Blake replies.
“I’ll have a Bud Light,” I answer.
“And for you?” she asks pointing her pen in Dean’s direction, eyeing him up and down.
“I’ll take a Heineken,” he replies smiling back at her.
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back with those drinks,” she says, still looking at Dean as she turns to leave our table squaring her shoulders so her tits stick out.
I look over to Dean laughing and ask, “Does that happen to you all the time?”
“No.”
Slapping her hand on the table, Blake says laughing, “Yes it does! Are you serious?”
Shrugging his shoulders he replies, “Does it matter? I’m not interested, so why respond to it.”
“Dude, that chick wants you,” I say raising an eyebrow at him.
“Like I said, I’m not interested. So, why does it matter?”
Letting it drop, because I can tell he’s not wanting to discuss it any further, I look over to Blake and ask, “So? How long have you known Dean?”
“Three years now. How long have you known Dean?”
“I’ve known him since he was seventeen. I work for his family,” I answer.
“You know I asked him earlier how come he’s never introduced us before.”
“So. I’m nothing special. Dean’s one of my best friends, but that doesn’t mean that we’re attached at the hip or anything,” she replies.
“You are too. You are something special Blake,” Dean replies, hugging her to him, giving her a sad smile just as Sam returns with our drinks.
Dispersing our drinks in front of us, she asks, “Are you guys ready to order?”
Taking turns, we all recite our orders to her. As she tucks her pad under her arm, she informs us that she’ll have our food right out.
“Blake, could you excuse me? I need to use the restroom,” Dean says.
Scooting out of the booth, letting Dean slip out, Blake sits back down fidgeting with her hands. Taking a drink of her coke, I watch her closely as I take a drink of my beer. Blake takes a deep breath before looking at me and asks, “So, are you staying all weekend?”
“No. I have a friend who lives in Atlantic City and I told him that I’d come up after I left from here to hang out,” I reply. Noticing that she’s still fidgeting with her fingers I ask, “Are you nervous?”
Snapping to attention, she answers, “No. Why?”
“Because you keep wringing your hands,” I answer.
She stops immediately; dropping her hands to her lap and asks quietly, “Does that bother you?”
“No. I think it’s cute that I make you nervous, even if you say I don’t.”
“What are you talking about? You don’t make me nervous,” she replies.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask, arching an eyebrow.
“What is your problem?” she asks with an edge to her tone.
Chuckling, I answer, “Nothing, I don’t have a problem.” Nudging her foot with mine again, I try to get a reaction from her and I do.
Narrowing her eyes at me, she asks, “And why do you keep doing that?”
Throwing my head back laughing I say, “Because I like to get a rise out of you.”
“You’re acting like a child,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“Oh, come on. I’m just messing with you. I can assure you I’m no child though. I’d offer to show you, but since I don’t know you that well, we’ll have to wait for another time I suppose,” I say smiling at her wide eyes and dropped jaw.
“You know what, I’m not even going to respond to that because I know you’re trying to get a reaction out of me. But just so you know, whatever you have I’m not interested,” she says with a smug smile.
Slamming my hand down on the table, causing our drinks to slosh over the rims, I say laughing, “I like you Blake. You know how to take a joke.”
I turn my head when a shadow appears next to our table, seeing Sam stand next to us, holding a large tray. Just as she starts setting our plates down in front of us, Dean comes back, asking Blake to move so he can scoot in. After he sits back down, we all eat, laugh, and joke around.
Dean and I barrel our way through the crowd as we enter Frankie’s. Making our way to the bar, an older pudgy man stops Dean. His shaved head and the lines around his eyes and mouth make him appear older than he is. Leaning in, they shake hands while clapping each other on the backs. Turning to me with a wide smile, Dean says, “Landon, this is Frankie, my boss.”
Extending my hand out to him, he accepts it while I say, “It’s a pleasure.”
“Same here.” He says with a nod and a smile.
Releasing my hand, he claps Dean on the shoulder and says, “How’s about we get you boys a drink?”
Dean and I perch on top of two barstools when I see Blake. Waving her over, she nods to the customer she’s currently helping and walks over to us. When she finally reaches us, only looking at Dean she says, “What are y’all drinkin’?
Frankie approaches us carrying three shot glasses. Passing one to Dean and the other to me, he holds onto the third. Raising his glass to us, I look over to Blake and see her watching the scene in front of her. Before Frankie can toss his shot back, I quickly say, “Hey Frankie, can we get Blake in on this too?”
“Oh shit,” he says looking over at Blake. Waggling his eyebrows, he nudges her shoulder with his and says, “You want a shot?”
With tension in her shoulders, she shakes her head and says, “No, it's fine. You guys go ahead.”
Seeing her reaction, I lift an eyebrow, daring her with my words. “Don’t you ever have a little fun?”
Watching her body relax from the tension, she squares her shoulders with confidence, puts her hands on her hips and says, “Yeah, I do.”
“Prove it,” I counter.
Narrowing her eyes at me, she turns around grabbing a shot glass. Turning back, she sets it on the bar, looks over at Frankie and says, “What are y’all drinkin’?”
With wide eyes, as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing, he says, “Johnny Walker Red.”
Reaching for the bottle, she pours the dark amber liquid, lifts her glass, looks me directly in the eyes as I stare back at her and says, “Here’s to having a little fun.” Tossing the shot back, she slams the empty glass on the bar and smiles.
All three of us follow suit, but I can’t take my eyes off her. Frankie pats her on the back and yells, “That’s my girl.”
Blake looks at Frankie with a genuine smile and laughs. She actually laughs a true genuine laugh. It’s the first time that I’ve actually seen her loosen up. It’s enjoyable.
Even at Wings Haven, she sat in the booth next to Dean, her eyes watchful. Her body seemed rigid and stiff as she watched everyone and everything around us. When I would ask her a question, she always seemed to find a way to change the topic, and the questions she would answer; she would look to Dean as if seeking reassurance before answering them.
Turning to leave and tend to her other customers, I yell down the bar to her, “Hey Blake!”
Looking back over her shoulder and arching her eyebrows, she yells back, “Yeah?”
“You still need to prove your point!” I say with a smile.
A slow smile creeps onto her face as she shakes her head and continues down the bar.
I talked to Landon yesterday afternoon before he left to head down to Ocean City. I asked him if he was still planning on coming
up here after he left from there. He said yeah, and then being the easy going let’s have fun guy that he is, he included he wanted to party. He knows that I’m not the party type. Sure, we had fun in high school, but even then, I wasn’t a big drinker. Growing up with a drunk for a mom, it has never been my thing. Hell, even in college, I’d go to parties with him, but nine times out of ten, I offered to be the DD. We haven’t hung out in a while since he works in New York City and I run a Casino and Resort, so I relented.
Lounging on my couch watching Duck Dynasty, laughing my ass off, I turn my head towards the door when I hear someone banging on it. Getting up, I go to open the door when I hear, “Derrick, open the door! I have to piss,” Landon shouts from the other side.
Laughing, I yell back, “Well damn. That sucks.”
As I open the door, he barges through, knocking me out of the way. “About fucking time,” he says, jogging down the hallway, making his way to the bathroom.
“Nice to see you too, douchebag,” I yell after him.
Walking into the kitchen, I open the fridge, pulling out a bottle of water, when I hear Landon behind me, “What the hell took you so long to open the door? I was about to bust it down if you hadn’t answered when you did.”
“No you weren’t. You’re a big boy. You can hold it,” I say, shutting the fridge and turning back around.
“Whatever man. What’ve you been up to?” he asks, placing his elbows on the bar as he leans on it.
“Not much really. You know the same shit just a different day. Actually, I had a seminar that I had to attend as a guest speaker about a week ago and I met this woman there.”
“No shit? It’s not another fuckin’ actress is it?” he asks, groaning and shaking his head.
“Nope. Come to find out, she’s a student at the college I did the seminar at. Actually, I met her the weekend before the seminar, at a bar,” I say.
“That’s cool. I met this chick last night, she’s my friend’s roommate,” he says and then adds, “She’s smokin’ hot, with a nice ass, and her body’s real tight too. Real closed off, but feisty as hell. You know how I like a challenge,” he says with a serious face.
“Sounds like your type. Did you ask her out?” I ask. I know he’s going to say no. I’ve only seen Landon serious with one person ever and that was his high school sweetheart Laney. They were real hot and heavy all throughout high school, but when I got accepted to Columbia, and he came with me, she stayed behind. She told him that she couldn’t just up and leave Colorado. Her whole family was there, it was her home. They tried to have a long distance relationship, but after six months, she called him up and said that it just wasn’t working. The demise of their relationship affected Landon. He started drinking and partying a lot more, and that led to him getting a reputation around campus as a playboy.
“No. You know me dude. I mean don’t get me wrong, I like her and all, but I like to keep my options open.”
“So she wouldn’t sleep with you I take it?” I ask, raising an eyebrow as I take a sip of my water.
“Nope, but I don’t think I wanted her to. She doesn’t really come off as the type who sleeps around anyway. Enough with the mushy bullshit, what’s on the agenda tonight?”
“I don’t care, it’s up to you.”
Nodding he says, “Why don’t we hit the floor first then see where the night takes us.”
“Sounds good. Just let me shower and get ready and then we’ll go,” I say and then add as I walk out of the kitchen making my way to my room, “Don’t forget to get your shit out from by my front door.”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll get my shit when I’m good and ready,” he shouts back at me.
Thirty minutes later, walking out of my room, I’m dressed in a black suit with a dark gray dress shirt, a light gray tie and a matching handkerchief stuffed in my right front breast pocket. Fastening my cufflinks as I enter the living room, I see Landon standing in the kitchen taking a shot.
“What are you drinking there?” I ask, nodding to the dark amber liquid he holds in his hand.
“Crown. Here you go,” he says, offering me filled a shot glass.
“Naw, I’m good.”
“Come on. Think of it as a celebratory shot,” he says, shrugging his shoulders and adds, “You know, since we haven’t seen each other in a while.”
“Will it shut you the hell up?” I ask.
“I don’t know. I guess we’ll have to see,” Landon replies with a smug grin.
Shaking my head, I walk over to him saying, “Just give me the damn thing.”
“Woo! Yeah!” he catcalls, as I take the shot from him, slamming it back. Pouring up another shot for us, he makes a toast. “To one hell of a night. May we get crazy, drunk, and meet beautiful women,” he says clinking his glass with mine.
Chuckling, I toss the shot back, letting the smooth burning liquid glide down my throat. Screwing my face up, I say, “Damn Landon. Are you sure you’re thirty-two?”
“Yeah, but I’m young at heart and that’s what counts. Let’s go,” he replied, clapping me on the shoulder.
Following behind him, we walk out of my penthouse making our way to the elevator. Pushing the button for the car, the doors slide open and Landon and I step in. “Are you ready to have some fun?” Landon asks, peering over at me through the corners of his eyes pulling on the lapels of his suit jacket trying to make sure there are no wrinkles.
“Hell yeah I am,” I reply, tucking my hands in the front pockets of my suit pants.
Pain shoots through my head as my eyes crack open seeing the morning sun filter through my windows. Groaning, I pull the cover up and over my head burrowing further into my bed trying to ignore the massive hangover I have. Inching my fingers out from under my blankets, I fumble for my phone that I know I’ve left on my nightstand. Finally finding the damn thing, I check the time. Well, I guess it’s not really morning sun seeing that it’s one o’clock in the afternoon.
In desperate need of water and two massive Advils, I shove the blankets off me and slowly sit up. My hands come up clutching the sides of my head as the pounding increases and my stomach starts to roll from the nausea. It feels as if there’s a jackhammer in my head steadily hammering into my skull. Groaning in protest, I gingerly push up off the bed making my way into the kitchen.
“How are you feeling this morning?” Landon asked, perched on a stool behind my bar, shoveling food into his mouth.
Grunting is the only response I have as I open the fridge. Pulling out a bottle of water, I set it on the counter while I rummage through the cabinets looking for my relief. Finally finding the damn bottle, I dump two Advil in my hand, tossing them back. Lifting the bottle to my mouth, I swallow the pills draining the remainder of my water. Sighing in relief, I lean back against the counter and look over to Landon who doesn’t look hungover at all and ask, “How the fuck are you not hungover?”
“I have a higher tolerance,” he says shrugging his shoulders. “I made extra eggs and stuff for you,” he adds, pointing at the microwave.
“I can’t eat right now,” I reply, with my face screwing up in disgust just at the thought of eating.
“How the hell are you so hungover? You didn’t even drink that much.”
“Because I normally only drink a couple of drinks at a time. You know I don’t like to get drunk,” I reply as I massage my temples and add, “And this is why. I hate being hungover.”
“Quit being such a pussy. You had what, four drinks? I’m sure you’ll live.” His sarcasm is grating on my last nerve.
“Fuck you Landon.”
“Look, I get it I guess. You should eat, though. You need something in your system to help soak up the alcohol,” he states matter-of-factly.
Arching an eyebrow at him, I say, “Thanks Dr. Drew. I know I should eat, but I have a feeling if I do I’m going to spew chunks, or in my case, liquid.”
“Look, I’m about to leave anyway. I have to get back to the city and pick up my dry cleaning and all
that fun stuff,” he says, finishing off his food.
“Sorry, I’m not trying to be an ass and I didn’t mean to be a dick,” I say, pushing off the counter, walking over to the microwave heating up my food.
“It’s cool. You’ve never been pleasant to be around after a night of drinking.”
“So, how’s it going over at the firm?” I ask, trying to change the subject, while starting some coffee.
“It’s been going good. I’ve been busting my ass on this one case that goes to trial in December. What about you? How’s the casino been going?”
Pouring myself a cup of freshly brewed coffee, I hiss as the burning liquid scalds my tongue. Inhaling the scent, I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe this is what I needed to cure my hang over. “It’s the same as it usually is. You know there’s really no tourist season here, so business is steadily increasing,” I reply.
“You know I’ve been thinking about going home for a couple of weeks. I don’t know when, but I think you should come,” Landon says, pouring himself his own cup of coffee.
“I don’t know. It’s been a couple of years since I’ve been back to Colorado.”
“Yeah, but I know that my mom misses you. Plus, we could hit the slopes like old times,” he says shrugging his shoulders.
A grin starts tugging at my lips when I think back to when Landon and I used to go skiing. With his parents having a cabin in Aspen, we had more advantages than other kids our age did. Every year, as soon as the slopes would open, me and Landon would invite a group of our friends to go skiing with us. All of us would start out on the slopes, but it never failed that we would end up partying later.
“Let me think about it. I can’t make any guarantees. Let me know when you are or if you decide for sure you want to go and I’ll see what I can do.”
“All right. Sounds good,” he says, clapping my shoulder while setting his coffee down. “I’m going to shower and then head on out.” Watching Landon disappear down the hallway, I reach into the microwave pulling out my plate of food he made for me.
“Fuck that’s hot,” I mutter under my breath, quickly dropping the plate on the counter. Opening a drawer, I pull out a fork just as my stomach growls. Digging into my food, I think about Colorado. It would be nice to go home for a couple of weeks, but then I don’t have much of a reason to go back. Sure Landon’s parents are like my own, but regardless they are still his parents. Lost in my thoughts, I barely hear Landon yell, “I’m out.”
Luck of Love Page 4