“Man what a jerk!” I cry in frustration.
“Shut up Clara.” Amanda hisses horrified. Marg ignores me and dives into the wine.
“I told him I didn’t want a drink from him and what does he do? He does it anyway. This,” I gesture to the wine, “is sneaky and backhanded. Now it doesn’t matter if I said no, he’s made it look all good natured. Pompass ass.” I ramble my irritation.
“Shut up and drink.” Marg laughs.
“Fine, but it’s consumption under protest.” I state and relax a little. What I really want to do is strut over to that cocky jerk and hand him his bottle of wine back while giving him a piece of my mind. What part of, no means no, is so hard to understand? Icona Pop’s I Love It starts. This is my jam. I flat out love this song and I immediately jump up, snag the bottle of wine, leaving both girls screeching and hit the dance floor. Shrugging at each other Amanda and Marg follow and the three of us jump around shouting the words to the song and shaking our hips.
Taking a pull directly from the wine bottle I notice Mr. Napoli watching from the VIP section. He’s really quite handsome, it’s a shame really. If he’d been that handsome and an average Joe maybe he would have gotten lucky tonight, but my pure hatred of wealth and all that comes with it makes him off limits. I toss my head back and take another pull before passing the bottle to Marg as Wild Ones starts and I lose myself in the music. Three songs later Amanda tugs on my arm wanting my attention.
“What’s up?” I shout above the music.
“Marg and I want to hit up The Harp.”
“‘K, let’s go.” I shout back and follow them to our table to collect our things. The wine bottle passes between the three of us again polishing it off. I have a serious buzz at this point which was my entire goal for tonight and tomorrow night. I’m only in town for the weekend and wanted a wild girls weekend with my two favorite ladies. I haven’t seen them in forever but work brought me back to Beantown finally, so I’d emailed them both seeing if they were up for a couple nights on the town with me.
“How’s Alliecat and Sawyer?” Marg asks.
“Allie’s amazing per usual and Sawyer,” I sigh. “Sawyer is the only reason I was able to come. I don’t know what I’d do without him.” Amanda and Marg shoot loving looks at me before we head into The Harp.
“God! I missed this place.” I squeal. “Is The Zoo playing tonight?” Marg and Amanda both double over laughing at me. “What?”
“Do you really think eight years later they’re still playing here?” Amanda chuckles.
“Oh. Right. Guess it’s been a while.”
“Yeah, a while is an understatement Clara.” Marg quips at me.
“I know, I know, but you guys know why I had to leave.” I throw my hands up in defence.
“Yes, we do and we understand. We’re just happy to have you for the weekend babe!” I get double teamed by my girls in a giant hug and can’t help but giggle with them. It really has been too long. I’ve missed out on a lot in their lives. We email, text and call but it’s not the same really and lord knows they’ve missed out on my life. It is was it is though and I did what I had to do and never looked back and I’m happy with my life now.
* * *
Cramming into a table for two we order three beers and wait for the band to come on. “So how was the exhibition today?” Marg asks.
“It went really well. I mingled with some other people in the Virginia area too. Hopefully it will drum up some new business.”
“Is the shop turning a profit that you can live on now?” Amanda inquires.
“Yeah, it has been for a while. We’re really starting to get busy. Sawyer and I might need to bring in a third artist. That was the other part of coming to the show today, I wanted to scope out some talent.”
“Well it sounds like things have really come together for you. I’m happy.” Marg smiles approvingly. It’s nice to know they support me. Eight years ago, hell five years ago, if you’d asked me if I would be running my own shop and making money doing it I would have laughed in your face.
“Thanks.” I smile.
“Any of you ladies care to dance?” A stocky guy with a bad teenage moustache asks. I snort and shake my head no while Marg looks like she wants to hide under the table and never look at his face again, and Amanda, oh boy, she looks like she’s ready to give the guy hell. “You have balls I’ll give you that. What are you? Eighteen? Twenty? How’d you get in here? The street lights are on its past your bedtime.” She flicks her wrist shooing him away as I burst into laughter. “What? We’re cougars but we still have standards.” She giggles.
“Cougars? Seriously since when does thirty two put you in cougar territory?” I chortle.
“When the boys hitting on you are a decade or more younger than you. That’s when.” Marg finally lifts her eyes. “Is creepy moustache gone?” We all double over with laughter as we sip our beers.
As the band steps onto the stage and starts to play their nineties cover songs I think back to when this was the norm in my life. College had been a blast and these two girls had been my partners in crime for four years and change. I really did miss them and having time to just be crazy and wild and free. Marg tugs me to my feet and stumbles a little. I’m really glad I wore my cowboy boots instead of heels. Sure I probably stick out like a sore thumb but I’m comfortable, can dance and will still be able to walk home without my feet feeling like they are bleeding. Hey Jealousy ends and Laid starts and I can’t help but be swept away in the moment. I feel carefree and eighteen again.
* * *
Mid song I’m singing my heart out jumping around wildly, having the best time ever when two large hands grip my waist. His fingers splay wide holding me firmly. I feel a tingle course through my body at the contact. My hormones go into overdrive at the long forgotten feeling of being held by a man like this. I stiffen and stand stalk still enjoying the sensation before realizing that I have no male counterpart with me. Don’t Stop Believing starts just as I whip around to face my grabby fan. “We meet again Ms. Lord.” Dominic says coyly. His hands are scorching my sides as I stare up into his dark eyes. He’s so attractive. His black hair is perfectly coiffed and his suit looks like it was tailor made just for him. I’m sure I’m staring like an idiot but the beer has officially sent me one sheet past three to the wind and I can’t form a witty retort. Instead I stare dreamily, like a reject, at the chiselled face before me. I can’t be sure but I think I even sigh. He smiles widely at me and I blink.
* * *
Gathering myself I pull out of his grip and in my drunken stupor stumble backwards landing on the stage. The lead singer takes this as an invitation and hauls me to my feet. Figuring what the hell, I rip the mic from his hands and start belting out the song. “Working hard to get my fill, everybody wants a thrill. Payin’ anything to roll the dice, just one more time. Some will win, some will lose. Some were born to sing the blues. Oh, the movie never ends, it goes on and on and on and on...” The mic is stolen away as the chorus begins and he holds the mic out to the crowd. Amanda and Marg yank me down from the stage barely containing their laughter at my show.
“What the hell Clara?!” Amanda can barely contain her laughter.
“Yeah Clara, I had no idea you were a rock star.” A booming deep voice calls out. Marg and Amanda spin around and eye Mr. Dominic Napoli as he reaches out, snags my hand and pulls me to him. I’m stupefied. He’s warm and hard and he smells so flippin’ good. Instead of moving away I stand moulded to him.
“Mr. Napppppoli.” I slur and silently will myself to shut up. “What a pleasuuure.” Amanda kicks my shin hearing my tone but I ignore her. I know she’s trying to save me from the verbal diarrhoea attack that’s about to happen. “Although you are apparently the perfect male specimen.” I drag my eyes from his face down to his crotch and back up lewdly. “I really would appreciate it if you could keep your hands to yourself. Perv.” I can’t help it. I know it’s not the right time but I am really freaking hilar
ious and I bust out laughing at myself.
He cocks his head to the side and openly stares at me with curiosity. There’s something about him that makes my skin crawl and tingle simultaneously. A war starts between my brain and my hormones. The rational side of me says run away, you hate his kind, but my libido screams, it’s been months, he wants you, have a wild, night-take him.
“Ladies, could I convince you to let me give you all a ride home?” He looks back and forth between Marg and Amanda who stand there stunned stupid looking like enamored school girls. I grunt and give this Dominic character a little shove out of my personal space. “We’re not leaving now.” I growl. I hate being told what to do. It’s a problem.
“I think you’ve had enough.” He clips.
“Excuse me? What are you, my father?” I bite out.
“I think you’ll have a terrible hangover if you don’t quit now.” His arrogance is really, really irritating me.
“Marg, Manda. We’re leaving. I hate him.” I spout, poke him in the chest and yank my bag from Amanda’s hand while making a beeline for the door. The cool night air hits me like a brick in the face and suddenly instead of feeling refreshed, I feel tired and sick. I lean against the building and hang my head trying to get the spinning to stop.
“Hey, you alright?” Marg asks rubbing my arm softly.
“I don’t feel well.” I moan pathetically.
“NO puking in the taxi.” Amanda laughs. She’s teasing, I never puke. Well, not never but it’s a rare occurrence and I usually can hold it together until there’s a clean bathroom insight.
“Hey! I’m no PJ, there will be no puke and throw from this gal.” I point at myself and attempt to laugh.
“Oh my god! Do you remember that?” Amanda doubles over with laughter at the memory. Our friend PJ was disgustingly wasted, interestingly enough at the bar we just left, and he threw up in his hand, cupped it, then threw it behind him. He repeated the act until he was finished throwing up. Seriously. Amanda and I had caught him in the act as he stood in the corner discreetly covering his mouth then whipping it behind him into the corner. “That was the most disgusting yet hilarious thing I’ve ever witnessed.” I chuckle. A wave of nausea rolls over me stopping my laugh. I groan and turn away from my friends while I try to fight the impending doom lurking in my stomach.
“Ew. Are you going to be ok?” Marg asks.
“Mmhmm... why don’t you head home. I’ll text you tomorrow for brunch.” I mutter between deep breaths.
“Alrighty.... Amanda, see you tomorrow. Love ya Clara!” She calls, her heels click and clack on the sidewalk as she hails a cab.
“Offer still stands.” That voice is like dark chocolate and silk. I want to look up but I can’t move so I stay doubled over.
“I don’t think you want her riding in your car.” Amanda giggles, pointing at me I’m sure.
“You look tired. Why don’t I have my driver take you home and I’ll stay with Clara until she sobers up.” He offers. I want to protest but my stomach is rolling and I need to continue my deep breathing and concentration to keep everything contained.
“That sounds wonderful.” Amanda elates. What the fuck! Why is she throwing me under the bus. Hoes before bros apparently has no meaning to her. A strangled groan escapes me and Amanda is instantly at my side.
“What are you doing?” I hiss at her.
“Shut up Clara. I’ll see you in the morning when you’re ready to thank me.” She snips. I want to strangle her and her good intentions. A car door shuts and I hear Amanda call out have fun before wheels screech and I assume she’s taken off by Dominic’s driver.
“Clara. Can you stand?” He asks hesitantly.
“Of course I can stand you turd.” I straighten, push off the wall and immediately wish I hadn’t. Everything tips sideways and I feel like death. My crouched hidey hole was a much, much better position. His arm darts out steadying me and I clutch it for dear life. “Wait a moment.” He grumbles. “Yes. The Harp. Thank you.” He clips into his phone. Jerk. Who is he talking to with such attitude? “Clara, I’m going to pick you up.” He says softly, the irritation in his voice from a moment ago gone.
“Nooo.” I groan. “Feet need to stay on ground.”
“Sorry darling but we need to move and I don’t think you can keep up.” My feet leave the ground making my stomach turn or maybe it was the pet name, I detest pet names. I wrap my arms around his neck and press my head into his shoulder trying to mentally right myself and tamp down the bile rising in my throat. He walks swiftly, as if I weigh nothing, to the curb and waits as a man opens a car door for him, squatting down he slides into the car with me still attached to him. I’m positioned on his lap and although I really dislike this weirdo I’m relieved to be on my way home. I don’t dare lift my head so I keep it buried in his neck and surprisingly, he holds me tightly to him silently. God, what kind of cologne does he wear, I want to get some for Sawyer because I need to smell this smell all the time. His fingers move gently through my hair and I want to tell him to cut the shit but I can’t make my mouth perform the task. The longer I keep my eyes closed and the firmer he holds me the more the spinning sensation subsides and sleepiness takes over. As I drift off to sleep it occurs to me that he didn’t ask for my address, but maybe Amanda told him when she left.
About K. Larsen
K. Larsen is an avid reader, coffee drinker, and chocolate eater who loves writing. She received her B.A. from Simmons College—a while ago. She currently lives with her daughter in Maine. Working on her fifth novel, she’s published Saving Caroline, 30 Days, Committed and Dating Delaney. Enjoy!
Keep your eyes peeled for a new book, Tug of War, out later this year!
http://ferrarik.wix.com/klarsen
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