by Gwen Gavin
The movement made me see red. Plenty of people rolled their eyes at me. Hell, I was sure that every woman who I had ever talked to had rolled her eyes at me at some point. But this woman is different.
“People like me plenty. I own the only bar in town. It’s a packed house all the time. I am very lovable.” I chuckled, trying to convince her it was true. But I knew that it wasn’t true. I didn’t think anyone other than my grandmother thought I was lovable and even then, she had her days when I annoyed the piss out of her.
“Sure thing, boss.” She lugged the last of the boxes into the back of her car. And I was still standing on the sidewalk, blood dripping from my knee and staring at her with my mouth open like a damn fool.
She moved to get into her car.
“Hey, what’s your problem?” I called out to her without my brain realizing what I was doing.
A car drove by slowly and I turned to glare at it for a second, for interrupting me.
“What do you even mean?” She stood ten feet away from me, holding her car door open, getting ready to climb in. Her ponytail bounced with every step she took. A few hairs were hanging wildly next to her face, and I noticed a blue paint splotch across her forearm. Her dark green eyes flashed with anger.
In another world, the angry-confused look on her face with her pouted lips pursed into a frown would probably be attractive to me, even endearing, but right now, I was just pissed off. She was sexy in a mad way and that made me even more mad.
And now, I was pissed off at myself for looking at her like she could ever, possibly be a woman that I could be attracted to.
I mean, maybe her body but when she opened her mouth, my head hurt.
“I don’t get you.” It was the only thing that I could think of to say. I didn’t get her. She had a pissy attitude from the second that I met her. I know that I don’t appear the most friendly guy in the world, but I didn’t think I deserved someone to be like that right off the bat.
She looked me up and down and then looked up into the trees above me. The stupid birds were still chirping away. The sun was shining through the trees and it was warming me up enough to feel the sweat start on my back. This whole errand was supposed to only take a few minutes. I was supposed to be going from air-conditioned space to air-conditioned space. I wasn’t supposed to be yelling at a stranger in the town square for over ten minutes.
“You don’t have to get me. You’re my sister’s boss. That’s it.” The woman, I realized that I didn’t even know her name, got into her car and pulled away from the curb with me just sitting there in my ripped jeans.
I turned on my heel and stomped my way over to the bank which was supposed to be the most interaction I had all day.
Loni
I tried not to think about my interaction with Jazz’s new boss, Mike, on the street this morning as I made my way around town, doing my classes.
But, no matter how hard I fought it, I thought it about near constantly. I kept checking my phone during sessions, making sure that Jazz hadn’t left me an angry voice mail that he had fired her because I was rude to her boss earlier in the day.
I should have kept my mouth shut. I should have played it nice, but I just couldn’t plaster on the smile and pretend for that guy. There was something about him that made even pretending to be nice to him difficult.
I tried though, at least I was trying to convince myself that I tried to be nice. I could have told him he was a disgusting, vile creature that reminded me of the grumpy Grinch. I could have told him I wished that I would never run into him again because there was something about him that made me boil with hatred every time I saw him.
But I didn’t do that. I didn’t say those things. I wasn’t nice, but I didn’t think I was particularly mean either. At least, I hoped that Jazz could keep her job.
I was walking the brewery crew through painting a landscape of a sunset with a palm tree in it while they giggled and drank around me. I smiled tightly and my mind wandered.
“Okay, you’re going to want to make sure you hold the brush sideways but watch where you hold it against the canvas, you don’t want to get the paint on you.” Nobody was listening to me but I painted anyway, trying to keep my strokes simple enough to follow but with enough flourish that they knew I was a professional.
As I painted and instructed, my mind drifted back to when I leaned over Mike before I realized who he was, when he just looked like a small town guy with his tight grey shirt and his morning scruff and his crooked smile. Mike had a charmingly crooked smile when he smiled at all.
I shook my head and brought myself back to the moment. “Now, let’s Mike—Ahem,” I cleared my throat and there were some titters in the crowd as they picked up on my verbal misstep. “I’m sorry. Let’s move in the upper left-hand corner here to make our sun. Now, this is where you have space for your creativity. Let’s mix a beautiful red or orange or pinks or even a light purple color with the paints on our palettes to make the sun. Now, you get to choose how much to mix of each color and don’t forget to add white to adjust the tone. If you need help, I can come around and help you here.”
I turned to face the crowd on my stool. My face was flushed red hot. I can’t believe that my mouth said Mike’s name as I thought about him. I don’t think had ever happened to me before.
Growing up, I wasn’t the kind of girl to daydream about boys and blurt out their names in the wrong moment. Jazz always chided me that that only men I was attracted to were musicians and artists who were long dead. Apparently, I had a thing for the more-than-emotionally unavailable men.
I got up from my stool and squeezed my hands tightly behind my back. It kept me from doing something awkward with them while I made myself available to my students. I looked around and nodded and smiled as I looked at their work, but my brain was somewhere else completely.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about men I had crushes on and that stupid faced Mike in the same moment.
Of course, Jazz had a point. All of my relationships were short lived. They were always not ready for a relationship or capable of giving anything to me other than sneaking out of my apartment in the early hours of the morning. Hell, I found out after the second date that the last one was married and trying to keep it from me.
At least I had the good sense to delete his number from my phone the very second I found out.
I looked around the room. There were a few couples in the room and I watched as they interacted. Elbowing each other with a secret joke between them, bumping knees under the table, even leaning over to steal a kiss every once in a while.
Normally, I would feel a sting of regret and sadness at seeing that, like I was losing out on something. I was looking at them in a new way, almost like they were a science project that I was trying to figure out or a brand new caged animal that I was observing for behavior.
I didn’t get relationships, not really and for a second, I worried that I might never get them.
CHAPTER FOUR
Mike
It was not my best day in the world. My employees for the early evening shift were getting out of my way faster than if they were running with the bulls. I don’t know if was the look on my face or how I grunted my way through every interaction, but it wasn’t great.
I felt too grumpy to even deal with myself, which is saying something. When Jazz rolled in for her late shift, I was torn between wanting to hole up in my office and pretend that her and her awful sister didn’t exist or steamrolling right over there and giving her a piece of my mind.
The problem was that I didn’t know what I would say to her even if I talked to her. Everything that I played out in my head came out like I was a raving lunatic which, honestly, might be true.
“Boss, you all right, man? You’ve been staring at her for like a solid five minutes.” Keith’s surfer boy voice broke me out of my thoughts.
I shook my head, forcing myself to look anywhere but at Jazz. It wasn’t Jazz’s fault, really. There was just something about her sist
er that I couldn’t let go.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just watching my new employee to make sure she’s doing a good job.” I rested my hands on the bar, trying to think about anything else.
“Sure thing. I don’t think she hits for our team, man. But there are plenty of single and willing ladies here tonight. Some of them ask about you from time to time. I could introduce you—”
“What did I say about hitting on the clientele, Keith? It gives you a bad rap. And what do you mean that they ask about me? Do they need to talk to me? Is this a customer service issue?”
Keith chuckled to himself and the noise annoyed me even further. “Nah, man. You know how it is. You flirt with the single ladies, give them an ego boost and a smile and they end up tipping better.”
“And you call yourself a feminist,” I said wryly.
Keith frowned but ignored it. I wasn’t sure that he understood my dry sense of sarcasm.
“And I mean that these chicks see you in here sometimes and they think you’re hot or whatever. A few of them have asked for your number, but I consider that highly unprofessional.” Keith’s voice was oddly deep considering his laid back California dude persona.
“Shut up, man. I’m not a customer you are trying to win a big tip out of and I always earned tips by being good at what I do. I pour strong, good drinks and I have the best bar in town.”
“Mike, you know that this is the only bar in town, right?” Keith raised his eyebrows. His voice was serious.
“Yes, Keith. I’m well aware of that.”
He nodded, seemingly unconvinced.
I rubbed my face from my forehead down to my chin. A headache was forming behind my eyes and I still had a few hours before the place shut down for the night.
“Can I ask you a question?” Keith started wiping down the already clean area of the bar in front of me.
I glanced around the room. It was a good crowd for a weeknight. It was enough to keep the lights on at least.
“If I say no, will that stop you?” I twisted my mouth up to the side. I was intentionally being a dick, and he knew it. But, I couldn’t help myself.
“Uh. I’m not sure what to say to that.” Keith’s eyes widened, and I waved my hand dismissively.
“Just ask whatever it was that you were going to ask.”
The night was warm with a slight breeze so we kept the windows open to keep the air moving. From this vantage point, I could almost see the point on the sidewalk outside where I had bumped into Jazz’s sister earlier in the day.
“Okay. Well, I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but when was the last time...you know...you went out on a date? I mean, I don’t really see a woman around here much and you never talk about anyone and you’re always here.”
My scowl deepened. There were reasons I didn’t talk about my personal life at work. Frankly, I didn’t have much of one so there wasn’t much to talk about and I didn’t like people prying.
I wanted to keep this place afloat and keep paying rent on time. I wanted to go home and drink a few beers in the privacy of my living room and I didn’t want anyone to bother me. If I could make money without interacting with much people, I would do it.
It’s not that I was always like this, but when your girlfriend and almost fiancee runs out on you with your college best friend because of some bullshit like you lack “drive” or she “doesn’t see a future” with you, you can lose your faith in humanity.
Instead of dealing with it in a healthy way or going to therapy or whatever kids these days were talking about, I shoved it down and focused on the business. There wasn’t much need for friendships when the two people closest people to me, other than my grandmother, sold me out and left me out to dry.
Screw Maryanne and Jordan. Good riddance. Have a good life, you assholes. My scowled deepened just thinking about them.
“Whatever happened to professionalism, Keith. I thought you were a bastion of professionalism?” My words were clipped and Keith vaguely flinched as I spit them out.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just that people are starting to talk. You have been even more... grumpy lately. I think you are scaring people. It might be good to go out sometime. Have some fun? Half the waitresses don’t want to cross your path and the kitchen staff have been talking—”
“My people? My employees are talking about me behind my back? That’s what this is?” I was raising my voice enough for Jazz to look over her shoulder at me as she was dealing with a customer.
I leaned forward and lowered my voice so Keith could hear me. “Look, I don’t need anyone in my personal business.”
“I understand, boss.” Keith turned away and threw the bar towel over his shoulder.
I turned around and rested my back against the bar, half-ass watching the game. Anger was still rolling off of my shoulders and the ache in my jaw meant that I was grinding my teeth together again.
Maybe Keith had a point, but I didn’t want him knowing that. It couldn’t have been the best thing in the world for me to be so angry all the time. But after these years, the anger felt good, almost homey. It was my comfort zone now, and I didn’t want to do anything else.
Smiling felt weird to my face, and I didn’t want to go on a date. For what? So I could pay for some stranger to eat even though I don’t know them and probably don’t like them? Force us to waste a few hours on a weekend night out at a weird restaurant just to prove something to them. That’s how I made my money. I would not line anyone else’s pockets that way.
Jazz made her way over to me but said nothing. I could see her moving out of the corner of my eye, probably also pretending to watch the game that was projected on the big screen towards the back wall of the bar.
I sighed and grit my teeth again. “How’s the second night going?” I didn’t turn to look at her, but she knew I was talking to her. That’s what I liked about Jazz. We communicated similarly.
“All right. Good crowd. They seem happy.” She said without moving her head.
I grunted in response. “I see you didn’t change the chalkboard today.”
“I figured that people need to see it a few times before they order. I’ve been mentioning it.” She shrugged. It was a small movement, and she didn’t have to say anything more, but I had a feeling that her attempt hadn’t gotten much attention had disappointed her.
“It’s a smart idea, by the way. It classes up the joint. Maybe we should expand our client base, anyway.” I thought to myself. It made good business sense. Although it would shift the crowd from being mostly blue collar townies, but a new customer base might pay more and tip better.
“I appreciate that. I’m trying,” she said.
I turned to face her, but kept my head down, pretending to be studying the bottles on the bar behind her.
“And as much as I hate to say it, I’m sorry about how I acted last night. I’m not used to new faces and then the fancy drink... I was out of sorts and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.” Saying the words felt like I was digging around in my own forearm to give someone a vein to collect blood from me. It was not my most favorite thing in the world.
Jazz nodded, keeping her eyes on the screen behind me. “Consider it forgotten.” She let out a long breath. “But, my sister might be harder to convince.”
“Yeah, what’s her problem, anyway? I ran into her today—”
Jazz’s eyes flashed at me angrily. “Wait, you saw her today? Did she come here?”
I couldn’t figure out if Jazz was angry at me or at her sister.
“No. I ran into on the street and she was kind of--” I cleared my throat, “she was gruff with me. I even cut my knee open and everything.” I pointed down to my jeans where the knee was still blown out from earlier in the day.
Jazz glanced down. “Did she attack you?”
I put my hands up in the air. “Wait a second, is she capable of something like that? She’s like half a foot shorter than me. I think I can take her.”
J
azz laughed in a hearty way, throwing back her head. “Oh, you don’t know Loni that well then.”
“Loni? Is that her name? No, I don’t know her and after today, I think I’m fine never knowing her very well.”
Jazz rolled her eyes. Her shoulders visibly softening. “Yes, my sister, Loni, can be a bit of hothead. After last night, I would not be surprised if she stomped over here to give you a piece of her mind. I hoped that she wouldn’t though.”
I pulled my eyebrows together tightly enough to make my headache worse.
“What’s her problem? I don’t get it.”
Jazz looked at me pointedly, cocking one of her hips out. “Seriously?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I don’t get her.”
“Well, you weren’t the most welcoming person last night to her, and she’s worried about me and that you’re not a nice boss. Which you are, so that’s fine. And frankly, I think it’s been a while since she’s gotten laid and that fucks with a person.” Jazz said as someone dropped off dirty glasses on the bar and she went to wash them. I followed her along to hear her talk.