1
Eva
Tuesdays are now officially the worst day of the week.
I look at the half-full cocktail in front of me, the lime-green liquid rippling slightly as I tap my finger on the stem, trying to figure out the mess that has become my life in just the past twenty-four hours.
“Can I top you off?” The bartender offers from his side of the wide, aged oak divide between us. He’s young, maybe in his late twenties like me, with an easy expression that’s constantly on his face.
“No thanks. I’ll let you know when I do,” I reply politely.
McKinley’s is a fairly nice bar/restaurant on the newer side of town, where startups and rapid growth have turned what was once an old sleeper city into a bustling mini metropolis.
It’s pretty empty in here, even for a Tuesday night, and the only other person sitting at the bar is an older man in his fifties who seems ready to fall asleep on his beer at any moment.
“Tough day at work?” the bartender asks as he wipes off glasses, keeping himself busy. His name tag reads “Larry.”
“Everyone has them.”
Mine just happened to end with firing my company’s CEO for the second time in six months.
Last time, it was embezzlement. This one had a penchant for sending nudes to interns.
Maybe I should move. I hear the weather in Costa Rica is great this time of year.
“Well, every day is a new day, as they say.” Larry gives me a friendly nod, and I return it as he shuffles to the other end to serve a couple that just came in.
I polish off the rest of my drink, letting the near-freezing liquid purify my thoughts for a second. The old wood of McKinley’s mixes with the scent of a million different liquors from the cabinets. That and the fresh lime Larry was cutting a minute ago are giving me serious vacation vibes.
But going to an island won’t fix my problems.
I can hear the footsteps behind me right before a whiff of too-strong cologne hits me. A second later, someone slides onto the stool next to me, close enough to brush my arm as they do, making the hairs on my neck stand on end from the sudden interruption.
“Evening. Drinking alone, or would some company be welcome?” The fake friendliness in the man’s voice is only further verified when I glance up at him. Carefully styled blond hair. Wide grin on his mouth that doesn’t reach his eyes. Fancy business suit that screams, “Pay attention to me! I have money.”
Catch-22. Play nice and hope he goes away? Or take my chances on the wheel of rejection?
“This seat isn’t taken,” I reply, turning away from him.
What’s behind door number one?
“I’m Henry. Henry Rogers. I work at Winsoft.” He extends a hand, and I take it for a moment, regretting it the instant I touch the sweaty palm he just handed me.
“Eva. Qualtechnics.” Shortest intro ever.
Henry is unfazed, so at least he’s tenacious.
“Hey, didn’t you guys move into that big building a few blocks from here a couple months back? Man, I love expansion.”
The next several minutes go by like molasses as he gives me a detailed history of his work, his degree, and his ambitions in résumé-like fashion.
“That’s very nice.” I keep my eyes on Larry, watching for an opening. I’ll need another drink if this keeps going.
“So yeah, I think if I can convince the VP to make that addendum, it’ll be my straight shot up.” I can see Henry smiling to himself out of the corner of my vision, but I avoid eye contact. If I look uninterested, maybe the T-Rex will go hunting elsewhere.
“Sounds good.”
“Hey, wanna go somewhere, get something to eat?” Henry asks out of the blue.
“They have food here,” I reply.
“Yeah, but there’s this great place just a couple blocks down. I figure we could take a walk, get to know each other better.”
Not in these heels.
That and I don’t come here to get picked up by random strangers. It’s just better than going back to an empty apartment where my inbox is full of work and problems I don’t want to think about until tomorrow.
“Listen, you seem like a nice guy. But I legitimately have had a very, very long day, and—”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he says, interrupting. “But this place has really good pancakes. The best.” When I glance at him, his smile is quirked to one side. An approximation of suaveness, I suppose.
I take a deep breath. Please don’t make this harder than it has to be, dear Henry.
“I’m sorry. Maybe some other time.”
Henry lets out a huff, and I can tell I should have just rejected him at the start and dealt with his unpleasantness then. “Why not right now? I mean, you’re here all alone. I’m just being nice.” The word ‘nice’ from his mouth makes my skin crawl a little.
I let out a sigh, deciding to stand my ground at least once today. “Going somewhere I’ve never been to eat a meal I don’t want and spend time with someone I don’t know… well, that may sound like fun for you, but I’m honestly just trying to relax.”
I can feel Henry’s anger rising as I speak. He’s sitting up a little straighter now, bristling next to me as I turn my back on him, facing away while I wait for his outburst. I’m pleasantly buzzed right now and not in the mood for someone to ruin it.
“I was just asking you out. You don’t have to be such a—”
Suddenly, Henry is cut off, and I hear a muffled sound as he’s jerked away by some unknown force.
There’s shuffling and the sound of the front door of the bar opening and closing, so I assume one of his friends just came in to remove him. It has nothing to do with me, aside from solving my immediate problem.
Which I would have solved myself if I had to.
I turn forward on my stool again, glad I can rest my arms while enjoying my drink, and keep my attention on a half-full bottle of Hennessy behind the bar in front of me. At least Mr. Hennessy won’t get the wrong idea.
I’m only a few sips into my drink before I see a huge dark shape in my peripheral vision sit next to me. The stool creaks beneath him, so he must be big, but at least he had the decency not to rub on my arm while sitting down.
Still, I’m not going to look over or even acknowledge him this time. I don’t need another Henry situation where someone reads things wrong when I pay them even a little attention.
“Sorry about that guy,” says the man who just sat down. But the sound is so wholly different from any other man’s voice I’ve heard before. Deep and silky, like black satin.
My ears perk so instantly at the sound I have to force myself to not look this time.
Remember T-Rexes, Eva. Ignore the T-Rex.
But the silence bothers me, and I have to reply, even if I don’t turn to look at him. “Sorry for what?”
“For that man’s behavior. I removed him, so he won’t be bothering you anymore.”
I take a breath, inhaling what must be the nicest cologne I’ve ever taken in before. Masculine, spicy, and dark but still clean and fresh. Sex in a bottle. Maybe it’s not even cologne.
“You seem stressed. What’s on your mind?” he asks me while I try to not be too obvious sneaking in another whiff of that scent.