"I guess you enjoyed your trip, Luce."
Lucy sighed heavily and said, "It was wonderful."
"Really? Did that man of yours take care of you or what?" There could have been a hint of jealousy in Joni’s voice. Maybe Lucy was projecting.
Joni had plenty of reasons to be envious of her. She’d been stuck in town working and going to lame bars while her supposedly less attractive coworker was halfway across the country being romanced by a celebrity. She wanted badly to tell her the whole story. Instead she grinned and turned away.
"Wow." Joni stepped around and studied her face. "Did you get laid?"
"Maybe." She blushed. She could rely on a loose definition of getting laid. If solo counted, then yes, she got laid.
Joni swatted the air dramatically with the magazine she'd been reading, then dropped it on the counter. It was a kind of silent congratulation. She grabbed her coat from the back room and readied herself to leave, but stopped when Leron came bounding in.
"Lucy got laid," she announced to him with zero provocation.
"What?" Leron put his hand to his heart and feigned shock. "I knew you had a glow about you today. I saw you skipping down the hall with those coffees like some kind of coked-up barista."
Lucy covered her mouth with her hand. There was no reason for her to correct either of them. She could let them believe what they wanted to believe. As long as she came out looking better for it.
"Is it as cold in New York as it is here?" Leron asked.
"Um, it wasn't bad." She hadn't thought to check the weather. Hopefully those two would get bored quickly and not ask any more questions. If they found out she had lied about going to New York, she'd never live it down.
"Well," Leron said. "Welcome back to Earth. It's not as exciting here as all that, but a bunch of us are going to Shifty's on Saturday night. You coming?"
"Probably." She meant "definitely", but she didn't want to sound too eager. After all, she was a jet-setter now with a boyfriend. At least that's who she wanted to be.
So, mustering all the courage a shy girl needed to muster, she put on her best outfit on Saturday night and headed to the bar.
The night was frigid and windy. A strong gust blew Lucy's hair around her face and she stumbled on the step outside of Shifty's. The door banged shut behind her. Through the mess of hair she could see all twenty people in the bar turn and look at her. Now she was a frizzed-up mess.
Joni and Leron were sitting at a large table with the guy from Old Navy and his girlfriend who worked at the shoe store. Before Lucy's presence, they looked like a table of couples. But looks were deceiving. Leron had no interest in women whatsoever, and Joni liked to keep her options open. She always made Lucy sit between her and Leron so guys wouldn't get the wrong idea. Then the two of them would talk over her all night as if she weren't even there.
A dark-haired girl was stepping up to the karaoke stage. Her friends cheered, but the table of mall employees stayed silent.
"She thinks she's Katy Perry," Leron said. This was one of the regulars. Shifty's was like a high school cafeteria. Each occupied table held its own clique. None of the cliques liked each other and took joy in talking shit about the others.
Sure enough, the dark-haired girl began her shaky rendition of a Katy Perry song. Leron and Joni threw up their hands in unison and shook their heads. Leron mouthed, "I knew it."
Lucy nursed a beer while the bar buzzed on around her. People grew louder as the tables filled with empty glasses and bottles. A plastered young man stumbled to their table with a bottle in one hand and a shot in the other. He bent down and handed it to Joni and said something in her ear nobody else could hear.
"I don't drink tequila," she shouted over the music.
"Come on," the guy slurred. "Down the hatch."
"No." She turned from him. He set it in front of Lucy.
"You want it?" he asked. She eyed the cast-off shot. No guy had ever bought her a shot before, Leron excluded, but this one clearly didn't count. It had been intended for someone much cooler than her.
"Lucy don't drink that stuff, either," Leron told him. He was already three beers in and slurring as much.
"I'll take it," she said matter-of-factly. She tried to act like a shot of tequila was no big deal. She'd actually never had it outside of a Margarita. She took the tiny cup from the stranger anyway. Her friends stared at her with gaping mouths.
"Wait," he said. "You need a lime?"
"Nah." She had seen people suck a lime and lick salt off their hand before downing a shot of tequila, but she'd never understood why. She was pretty sure if she tried it she'd do it wrong and give away her inexperience. She wanted to get it over with.
Joni stared at her with wide eyes. Lucy threw the shot back quickly. She willed her face not to react to the burning sensation in her throat. It tasted like nail polish remover. The sides of her tongue tasted like metal. Her eyes threatened to water. She found her composure and smiled at the group.
"Damn girl," the guy said. "Straight up and everything. You're badass."
She grinned. She liked being a badass. It was a good feeling. Everyone would look at her in a different way from now on. She was a changed woman. For a moment.
The guy proceeded to pull up a chair next to Joni. They commenced a secretive conversation. Lucy's heart sank. She had taken the shot, but Joni was still the one getting the attention.
"Shit, Luce," Leron said. "I didn't know you drank tequila."
"Are you kidding? It's my favorite. I drink it all the time."
A few minutes later her head began to feel fuzzy. The bar seemed to have grown a little smaller, yet everyone appeared to be farther away. Another beer was set in front of her. She stared at it intently for a minute before chugging half of it. Then she swiped the song book out of Old Navy's hands and searched for something to sing.
Conversation buzzed around her. She focused as well as she could on the song book, hoping the letters would stop jumping around so she could read them.
After a while the random guy had struck out with Joni and left for another group of women. Everyone else at her table was talking about celebrities. She abandoned the song book for a minute and listened.
"Zac Efron is too still hot," Leron was saying.
"No, no he's not," Joni slurred. "He's still good looking, but he's trying too hard. And he’s old."
"That's stupid. How can you try too hard?"
"That Nick guy who works at the movie theater doesn't try and he's hella hot." Joni leaned forward and tapped her finger hard into the table in front of Leron, as if that would help him understand her reasoning better.
"He's body hot," Leron argued. "He's not face hot."
"Wha's that?" Lucy spat in her drunken state. She wanted to get in on this convo, too.
"His body is good," Leron explained, "but he's got a weird face."
"You are mental," Joni shouted. The entire next table looked her way but she didn't care.
"But," Lucy started, let out a silent belch, and started again. "But what if a guy's not body hot or face hot? What's that called?"
Leron stared at her like she had grown a second head. He emphasized his words carefully. "Not hot."
Joni laughed so hard she literally fell out of her chair but caught herself before she hit the ground.
"No," Lucy continued emphatically, "but I mean some guys are hot because they're cool or they're nice or whatever. And maybe because they're kind of cute. But they're not, like, technically gorgeous."
"Like Ryan Gosling," Joni assisted.
"Ooo..." Leron moaned. "Good point. Good point. I'd do him."
"Yeah." Lucy was excited to be having this bonding moment with her friends, even if it was in a deafeningly noisy karaoke bar. "Or like Joel Ruskin."
"Who?" Leron squinted at her as if he could see the answer better in her face that way.
"Joel Ruskin. He's a TV personality. He had a song a few years ago."
Joni shook her head
and downed the remainder of her drink.
"He's like a Ryan Seacrest type," Lucy added.
"He's hot, too." Joni jutted her finger toward her as she said it. Lucy was defeated. How could they not know who Joel was? He was only the most important man in her life.
"Well, he's my boyfriend." The excessive alcohol had apparently eliminated her inner monologue and she was to the point where she was going to say anything that popped into her head.
"Ryan Seacrest is your boyfriend?" Leron asked and giggled.
"No, Joel Ruskin."
"I don't even know who that is," Joni shouted over the applause for the last singer. She did so with her eyes completely closed and then rested her forehead on the table in front of her.
Lucy gave up. She looked at the time on her phone. It was still pretty early. Their night of fun was just getting started. So, she ordered another pitcher of beer for the table.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Omaha - Present
A black sedan pulled up to the curb and the passenger window lowered. The driver leaned over the console and said in his most professional voice, "Elijah?"
"Yes." Elijah opened the door. "Omar?"
The driver nodded and Elijah climbed into the front seat. Omar swiped the screen of the cell phone hanging from his dashboard.
"Where you going, man? You didn’t put in your destination."
"Actually, if there’s a park nearby take me there. I’d like to talk to you about a rider you had a while back."
Omar gave him a side glance.
"What’s this about? You a cop?"
"No, I’m a writer. True crime. I’m researching a case for a book. I’ll pay for your time."
The driver shrugged.
"Whatever you say. It’s your buck."
The car swung left and rumbled into the gravel lot of a city park. The two men got out and headed for a nearby picnic table. Elijah produced a picture of Lucy and his own notebook where he’d written the date and time of her Lyft transaction.
"Do you remember this woman?"
"That was almost three years ago. I drive a lot of people." He took the picture and studied it. Then he looked at the date again.
"I have a police report saying you picked her up from Shifty’s Bar. She was drunk. You had the cops remove her from your car."
Omar shook his head. He knitted his eyebrows.
"You’re writing about her. So, what’d she do?"
"She was stalking a celebrity. Claimed to be his girlfriend." He didn’t want to give too much away and possibly corrupt the driver’s memory.
Then Omar’s his face changed.
"Wait. I do remember that lady." He was suddenly thrilled to be having this conversation. "You never forget riders like that. She went nuts on me."
"Can you tell me what you remember?"
Omar shrugged. "Picked her up at Shifty’s. I thought she’s gonna puke in my car. Her guy-friend put her in and told me not to worry."
"Is that unusual?"
"No, that shit happens all the time. But she was weird, like acting all crazy."
"Crazy how?" Elijah tried to stifle his excitement. This was the kind of information he’d been looking for. What good was a book about a crazy stalker if it wasn’t littered with crazy tales?
"First of all, she was wasted. She kept trying to lay down on the back seat. I don’t allow that. I told her to sit up or get out."
"Is that why you called the cops?"
"Naw. She seemed harmless at first. She never stopped talking, slurring and stuff. She told me all about this TV guy she was dating. ‘Allegedly’ dating." He made air quotes. "I didn’t believe a word of it."
Oh, this was good.
"What TV guy?"
"I don’t know. I never heard of him. She said he lived in New York and she was going to move there to live with him. She asked me if I thought she should."
"What did you say?"
"I told her to follow her heart. You know, shit Lyft drivers say to drunk chicks they pick up and don’t want to deal with. She kept going and going about this guy. At that point I kinda wished she would pass out."
Elijah nodded. His pulse was racing. He hadn’t expected to get much out of him at all, and here he was getting the whole juicy story.
"She told me she used to date Beau Castle. You know, that rock dude with the tattoos and stupid hair. That’s when she started getting really pissed off."
"You called her out on it?"
"No way. Made me laugh, though. She got mad ‘cause I laughed. Started yelling that it was the truth and I needed to shut my fucking mouth."
"Did you kick her out?"
"Not exactly. We were already to her building and she was still yelling. She reached over the seat and grabbed my shirt and told me I didn’t know anything about anything."
"So you called the cops?"
"Yes, sir. Anyone lays a hand on me in my car I call the police. I got out and called and she was still in the car yelling. I opened the back door and she kind of fell out on the ground. When the cops showed up she was rolling around on the cement crying about something or other."
Elijah looked at the copy of the police report on his phone. "But she wasn’t arrested. They just took her inside."
"That’s right. She was too drunk to know what she was doing. I just wanted her taken care of. A lady cop took her in and that was it." Omar shifted on the bench. He bowed his head and laughed. "Shit, I told that story to all my friends. That’s the only reason I remember her."
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
For the next two weeks, Joel and I talked on the phone almost every night. We talked about anything and everything. By the end of that two weeks, we pretty much knew each other’s life stories. As cliché as it was, I started to feel like I had known him for much longer than I had.
There were a few evenings when he wasn't available, but I didn't mind because those were the nights I could see him live on my TV. Of course, it wasn't the same. But it was something I had to accept. I was sharing him with the world.
I missed him so much. I couldn't take my eyes off the screen when he was on. Millions of people were being entertained by him, but I was holding at least a little part of his heart. Maybe he even thought about me once or twice when he was there. The feeling I had was huge.
Then Joel called on Thursday. He was more animated than usual.
"I want to take you out this weekend. I had a thing to do but it got canceled, so I’m free all weekend and Monday."
"I have to work on Sunday."
"How about if I come to you this time? I can find something to do on my own on Sunday and you won't miss any work. I'm tired of talking on the phone. I want to see you in person."
I had to accept. How could I not? I wanted to see him so badly. His excitement put a flutter in my heart. This put me on cloud nine. Nobody could say anything to bring me down.
Friday dragged on like a thousand hours. Joel's flight was slated to land at 7:35 p.m. I was anxious to see him in person and to be back in his arms.
I waited for him at the baggage claim. I didn't even recognize him until he stepped off the escalator and headed toward me with his arms outstretched. He was wearing a baseball cap and glasses, and he hadn't shaved in at least three days. There was a charge in our embrace, like two magnets coming together. Behind him, I spotted Tracy.
"You brought your assistant on our date?" I mumbled so she wouldn't hear me.
"I'm not a hundred percent free this weekend," he said apologetically. "I have a video meeting tomorrow morning. Other than that, Tracy can take care of the business stuff for me. Didn't I say you'd be seeing a lot of her?" He nudged me playfully. Then he grabbed his suitcase as it drifted by.
"I didn't make up the guest room for her."
Tracy, who seemed to have bionic ears, stepped up behind Joel with her own suitcase.
"I'm staying at the Hilton," she reassured me. So far I hadn't seen her without a smile. I pondered if it was a difficult job bein
g Joel's assistant.
Joel was interested to hear about my coworkers' tradition of booze-fueled karaoke performances. Not an hour after we'd left the airport he had already made himself at home in my apartment and even more comfortable in my bed. I'd told him I had already declined my friends' invitation because I would be busy all weekend.
"I've never done the karaoke thing," he told me. His index finger traced an imaginary line down my naked body to my navel. "Maybe it would be fun."
"I don't know if my friends can handle having a celebrity in their midst."
He leaned forward and kissed my lips. "Can you handle having a celebrity in your midst?"
"Pssh!" I pushed him onto his back. "You think you're so special," I joked.
"I'm not special. So, take me to the bar with your friends so I can be a regular guy."
"Wouldn't you rather go on a real date like dinner or something classier than a noisy bar?"
"We've done that classy bullshit. Remember walking in the park, having lunch at the deli? Those were the best times. We're better at casual."
I stared intently at this man in my bed: his soft grin, his brown eyes, and the scruffy beard that acted as an easy disguise. Where were we headed? The last thing I wanted was to get too attached to him, only to find out he wasn't as invested in us to begin with. The only way to know if he wanted a relationship was to come out and ask him, and I was scared the question may only drive him away.
"I like it here," he said, motioning to the window, "in Omaha. It's casual and it's easy. So let's relax while I'm here. Let's do something easy."
"Okay. But, I think if you're planning on relaxing, you're underestimating the cutthroat world of bar karaoke."
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Saturday afternoon was as casual as Joel had hoped. In the morning, Tracy came over for his video meeting, and I made myself scarce. When I returned later with lunch, the three of us ate together at my table. After that, Joel and I strolled around the Old Market, with Tracy several steps behind. She was there to handle any potential fan situation, although I thought she was a little small for a bodyguard. No one bothered Joel at all. The hat and scruffy chin were working in his favor.
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