"He's just an asshole,” Allison says.
Maybe that girl's in on it or maybe not. Maybe he got her pregnant afterward or maybe he was lying to both of us.
In any case, yes, he did pay for my mom's treatment. And for that, I will be forever grateful.
But as far as everything else goes, he's dead to me. I never want to see him again. Never want to speak to him again. Hell, I never want to think about him again.
This evening, Allison convinces me to go out and get some drinks. It’s all about taking my mind off things and I’m all for it. We head to a familiar haunt, a bar on 79th Street, where she has always managed to get lucky.
"That's why I don't go there very often," Allison says, adjusting her look in the mirror.
I'm dressed in a similar fashion, spaghetti sleeve top, a short skirt, and high heels.
We get there at around 10:30, just when the place is getting filled with enough people for a good selection. Everyone is crowding around the bar and Allison gets us two lemon drops. A martini is a serious drink for the middle of the day, but a lemon drop means that you're ready to party.
We grab a little table in the corner, one of the tall standup ones where people can approach you from any direction. She scans the room for prospects and checks her phone.
"We're out," I say, "so why are you online dating at a bar? Shouldn't you be looking for people in person?"
"Look, you can put in their GPS, so if someone's here, you can check out their whole profile and see if they're a suitable match."
I roll my eyes.
"You know that this is how it's done," she says, showing me her phone, clicking through a few options that are within a block away.
It's not that I have anything against online dating per se, I don't. It's just that I'm here to not be online.
I'm here to take a chance, to strike up a conversation with someone and to really connect.
I want to feel the same way I felt at The Redemption with… Dante.
Stop it, I say to myself. Forget about him. He’s a loser and a liar. You don’t need a replacement. You’re here to put him out of your mind completely.
"Put your phone down," I say. "I don't want to look like we're occupied."
The tone of my voice tells her that I'm serious. I pout my lips and I push my breasts together as I lean over the table, my eyes laser focused on the guy with the crew haircut on the other side of the bar.
He’s nursing a beer and as soon as our eyes meet, he points me out to his friend. On the walk over, our eyes don't break contact the whole time.
“Hi,” he says, extending his hand. "I'm Logan."
Dressed in a linen suit, he looks like he has just walked in from arguing a case in a courtroom in Louisiana.
"Hi, I'm Jacqueline," I say, extending my hand. "It's nice to meet you."
7
Jacqueline
Allison doesn't stay for long. She spots a hot guy across the room and tells me that she'll be back.
Logan takes her seat and focuses his eyes on mine. His are hazel green, a nice match to his tan skin.
As we talk, I find out that he's visiting from North Carolina. He is indeed a lawyer, and he is here for a deposition.
"Don't you need to have a license to practice law here?” I ask.
"Yeah, I do. I used to live in Connecticut, but my parents moved down to North Carolina and my mom is sick, so I'm visiting her."
"Oh.” I nod.
Suddenly the reality of what he's going through hits me a little too hard. I want to ask about his mom, but this isn't what tonight is supposed to be about.
"I'd rather not talk about my real life, if you don't mind," Logan says, giving me a wink. "I'm here to let loose, have a little fun, nothing serious. I know that makes me sound kind of like a dick, but that's all I can handle right now."
I nod again, and then reach over and kiss him. Clearly taking him by surprise, it takes him a moment to kiss me back.
His lips feel soft, nice on mine, and I like the way he tilts me back, supporting the small of my back.
His fingers sweep up my neck, just along my jawline, and I feel just a little bit of the shivers going down.
When we pull away, he asks, "Do you want to get out of here?" I nod.
He grabs my hand and we walk out.
"My hotel is right around the corner," he says, "if you're interested in something like that, but no pressure."
I smile again.
Yes, I am interested, I say quietly to myself.
I text Allison as soon as I know the name of the hotel. When I see the number of his room, I text again.
I've been single long enough to know that dangerous things happen and a girl has to protect herself if she wants to have a little fun. But Logan is a gentleman.
He has a suite overlooking a small park and he walks straight to the bar to pour me a drink.
"All I have here are some M&M's, pretzels, and crackers if you're hungry," he says, pulling them out of the bar.
I walk over and seductively bite my lower lip. Reaching up, I kiss him a little on the lips and just as he is about to kiss me back, I grab the M&M's out of his hand.
Laughing, he tackles me onto the bed. "You're not getting away that easily."
Once I'm under him, he cradles my head and kisses me, first on my cheeks, then on my lips, then down my neck.
Still holding the pack of M&M's in my hand, he makes it all the way down to my breasts and pulls my top down just a little bit. I let go of the candy and grab onto the sheets instead.
He kisses me again and again, running his hands up my dress.
Reaching for my panties, he tugs a little, toying with me and I laugh.
The phone rings, not his cell, but rather the digital one on the end table.
"Are you going to answer that?" I ask.
"No. It's just room service or whatever. I'll call them later."
The call gets forwarded to the answering machine.
“Mr. Robier, your wife is trying to reach you. Please give her a call as soon as you can."
He freezes and so do I.
“Your wife?” I gasp, pushing him off me.
He shakes his head.
"Your wife? You have a wife?” I repeat that word over and over again, hating the way it sounds in my mouth.
"I don't know what she's talking about," Logan says, getting flustered.
He reaches for me again, but I push him away.
"I can't believe that you're married,” I say, standing up and adjusting my clothes.
Again, he says nothing.
"Was this just one big lie?” I ask, grabbing my purse and my phone.
"Okay, so I'm married," Logan says, buttoning his shirt. "So what? You telling me you never fucked a married guy before?"
I shake my head.
"Please, don't act like I've done anything wrong."
I start to walk away to get to the front door when I stop cold in my steps.
"Of course you've done something wrong," I say, taking a few steps back and pointing my finger in his face. "You're fucking married and you're picking up someone at a bar."
"I told you I didn’t want anything serious. It's not like I lied to you."