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NEVER KISS A STRANGER

Page 8

by Chance, Logan


  “Henry,” I don’t know why I keep saying his name, “I’m sorry. I can’t marry you.” I slide the engagement ring off my finger. “I really think you’re great. I’m just not the one for you.”

  “Hold on. I think we can make this work. So, what if you think we’re not made for each other. Who is?”

  I blink. “Henry, you deserve someone who can make you happy.”

  “I was happy,” he states, rather loudly, clearly losing his cool. I don’t blame him. And now my heart cracks a little more for hurting him. “Are you feeling ok?” he asks. “Maybe you should sleep on it.”

  I shake my head, still holding onto the ring. “I have thought about it.”

  Henry stands. “No, no no no no,” he repeats. “This isn’t good for my partnership.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The firm,” he whispers, staring off into the unknown. “Never mind.” He focuses his dark eyes back on me, “It’s ok. Listen, what can I do to change your mind? We’ve already told everyone we’re getting married. Preparations have been made.”

  I remain seated on the couch, watching as Henry paces the living room floor, and then pulls his phone out to answer a text. “Henry, I’m sorry but…”

  He crosses his arms. “We can’t call off the wedding. I’ve invited co-workers.”

  “We don’t love each other.” This much is obvious the longer we talk. He’s more occupied with what his partners at the firm will think than anything else. “Henry, my mind is made up.”

  He stands, taking the ring in his hand. “I’ll give you some time to really think about this.” He moves toward the front door. “This isn't over between us.” And then he leaves.

  I blow out a long breath, mumbling to myself, “It is, though.”

  Not once did he say he loved me. And I’m ok with that.

  ELEVEN

  Ellis

  Never drunk dial someone else’s ex...

  “Explain it again,” my father says. The crow’s feet extending from his green eyes deepen as he tries to pull his face into a tight smile. “What do you mean the company is in trouble?”

  I lean my arms across the table, joining my hands together. “What Urban told me is that you’ve gone and gambled away all the money.”

  My words cause him to flinch. He adjusts the silver tie that matches the flecks in his hair before taking a bite of salmon.

  “Must you be so uncivil all the time?” Yasmin pipes in. “We haven’t seen you in ages.”

  “It’s not like we’re a big ‘ol happy family,” I say to her. This time she flinches.

  I know any normal person would love to spend time with their father they haven’t seen in years. They’d be excited to have dinner with their father and his wife. But, I’m not.

  Urban chimes in, “Look we can all sit here and be mad at each other all night long, or we can work together to try to salvage what’s left of the family business.” Urban pulls a file from his briefcase, spreading out a worksheet with last year’s earnings on the table.

  I glare at my father. “Do you have anything to offer? Sacrifices to make?”

  He stiffens. “I have a certain lifestyle I need to uphold. I can’t let people think our business is in trouble. I’m the face of this company.”

  Yasmin is tight-lipped, knowing her days of drinking wine with the ladies at the club and gossiping about their husbands may soon be behind her.

  “Face of the company, my ass,” I blurt out. Is he delusional?

  “Dad, I called Ellis because we could really use his help. If anyone can pull us out of this mess, it’s him,” Urban tries to gain hold of the fight that’s brewing here at this expensive membership only clubhouse. “We need big changes. Yasmin no longer getting her weekly mani/pedis isn’t going to change anything. We’re on a downward trend. We need to think of something to bring this brewery back.”

  The table falls silent as a waiter refills our waters.

  “I’m ready to work,” I tell Urban.

  We need big ideas, but unfortunately the only idea I have centers around a sexy little brunette with the cutest smile I’ve ever seen. Kiki.

  I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her all day. And more than anything I want to see her again.

  Soon.

  But, I know I can’t. She’s engaged, and even if she wasn’t, my life is all over the place.

  I need to focus on the brewery, not a hot piece of ass. Don’t call her that. She’s so much more than just a piece of ass.

  She’s the marrying type. Just look at Henry.

  He knew that, he snatched her up, knowing full well she’s indeed the marrying type. I hate it. I’ve never in my life been put in this type of situation. It makes me think that I am the bad guy here. Because every thought I have involves Kiki and Henry breaking up, and me getting the girl.

  I know, there’s something seriously wrong with me. I can’t keep my shit together when it comes to Kiki. And I can’t stop thinking about the way her lips felt against mine.

  “Ellis,” Urban says, bringing my focus back to the meeting. “Do you think you could hit a few restaurants? See if they may want to carry our product? I know if anyone could sell our beer, you could.”

  I nod. “Absolutely.”

  “Maybe we need to run nightly specials,” my father offers, his smile hopeful.

  Urban shakes his head. “I’ve been working with the bartenders on implementing maybe a two-for-Tuesday deal and some other fun promos. But, the problem is we’re just not getting enough people to the pub.”

  I scrub a hand down my jaw. “So, we need to bump up marketing.”

  “We have a very small budget.” Urban points to a figure on the piece of paper. “We need more organic traffic, and that’s why we’re failing.”

  Organic traffic isn’t easy to come by, but I may have a few tricks up my sleeve.

  The dinner comes to an end, and I shake my brother’s hand, leaving my father and Yasmin with no more than a simple ‘bye.’

  As soon as I walk out of the high-priced golf club, my phone dings with an incoming text. It’s Henry, with a 911. He wants to meet at a bar across town.

  Sounds important, so I hop in the rental and head off in that direction.

  When I get there, Henry’s already three sheets to the wind. “Dude,” he slurs out. “I’m so glad you came.” He staggers my way, tossing his arm around me. “I’ve had the worst night.”

  “Why don’t we sit you down.” I help Henry back to the bar and the stool he abandoned when he saw me come in. “Two coffees,” I say to the bartender. “And a Twist & Stout.”

  The bartender smiles and turns away to collect my order. I focus my attention back on Henry. “Ok, tell me slowly what’s going on? Did something happen at work?”

  Henry grabs his drink, which looks like something dark on the rocks, and I try to wrestle it away from him to no avail. Fucker swallows the whole thing. “No,” he shakes his head, “Kiki left me.”

  My heart stops.

  “She said it was over,” Henry says, looking at his empty glass. “Where’s my drink?”

  At that very moment, the bartender arrives with both coffees and sets them down in front of us. “Drink this,” I tell Henry.

  His face is priceless as he stares up at me, blinking like I’m speaking a foreign language. “You serious?”

  “Yes, drink this and then you can have another drink.” My lie works because Henry takes a big gulp of the first coffee.

  “Ow, that was hot.”

  I push the coffee away. “Next time don’t try to chug the whole thing.” I grab my beer. “Now, explain to me what happened.”

  “She left me. Said it was over.”

  My heart stops again, and I really should have that checked out by a doctor. “Did she say why?” Is it bad I’m holding my breath with the mere hope she did it because she’s feeling the same crazy feelings I’ve been feeling the past few days? Yeah, it’s bad.

  “Said she didn
’t love me.”

  Ouch. “Man, I’m sorry.”

  “Two shots of whiskey,” I tell the bartender.

  Henry smiles, his broad shoulders hunched over the bar. “Is one of those for me?”

  I crack a small grin. “Drink your coffee and we’ll see.”

  As soon as the whiskey arrives, I knock one back. It burns all the way down and feels so good. I want it to drown all the feelings I have for Kiki.

  I take the other shot glass, holding it in the air. “To true love,” I say before slamming it back in the same fashion as the first one. I nod at Henry who stares at me like I just stole his favorite kitten. “I’m catching up,” I tell him.

  He laughs, slapping me on the back. “Two more,” he says to the bartender. “Want to hear something crazy?”

  “Lay it on me.”

  Henry sips the coffee. “I wasn’t even that sad when she said it. It’s like part of me knew what she meant.”

  “So, it’s a good thing then? Keeps you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  The bartender sets down two more whiskeys in front of us. Henry grabs one and downs it. “I’m still going to fight to get her back.”

  “But, why? You don’t love her.” I down my third shot of whiskey for the night, utterly confused. Is he just drunk and not thinking clearly? He even said he felt the same as Kiki. So why fight?

  “Let me explain something.” It’s like Henry’s sobered up completely as his eyes meet mine. “I’m about to be named a partner.” He holds his thumb and index finger millimeters apart. “I’m this close to getting everything I’ve ever wanted. And the firm favors partners who are settled.”

  “Settled?”

  He nods. “Yeah, as in married. If you can commit to a woman then, in their eyes, you must not be a major fuck up. And it also means someone can stand you long enough to be married to you, so you’re most likely a good guy.”

  “That’s bullshit. They can’t force you to get married.” I hold up two fingers to the bartender, silently telling him we’ll have another round. Because I need it. Stat.

  “Not forcing. Just heavily implying. The guy who’s up for the same partnership as me is about to have his second kid. And here I am, a complete fuck up.”

  “You’re not a fuck up.” I brace my hand on his shoulder, giving a supportive squeeze. “You’ll find someone.”

  “No, they loved Kiki.”

  Interestingly he said ‘they’ love her and not himself.

  “I won’t be able to find another trophy like her,” he whines, taking another shot glass from the bartender. He downs what I’ve decided is his last shot of the night.

  I stare at my own whiskey, wondering if I should even bother. Listening to Henry talk about Kiki as if she’s some prize to be won to help him move up the corporate ladder makes my stomach churn. I nod at the bartender, saying, “We’ll tab out.”

  “No, we can’t leave. You just got here, man.” Henry’s back to slurring his words, and I know I need to get him home before he becomes more belligerent than he already is.

  “We’ll play some pool.” I nod in the direction of the pool tables in the back and pull out my credit card and toss it on the bar.

  “I’ll kick your ass in pool.” As he says the words, two blondes walk by. “Hello,” Henry slurs at them. He tries his best to slide off the stool in one movement but stumbles a bit.

  I grab him to keep him steady. “Let’s go, Casanova.”

  Once the bartender returns my card, I help Henry to the back of the bar to play a bit of pool, hoping it might sober him up a bit before I get him home.

  I rack the balls, and for about a good five minutes we play a friendly game of billiards. Until the blondes head in our direction.

  Henry makes an ass of himself, damn near catcalling to get their attention. And my god, it fucking works. I can’t believe it.

  They join us, and I want nothing more than to bail.

  Even if Kiki was confused, and maybe unsure if she wants to go through with the wedding, I still feel bad being here as Henry is about to...I don’t even know.

  I feel like a guilty bystander, watching it all go down—the flirty eyes, the smiles, the way the girls fawn over us.

  “Hi, I’m Daphne,” one girl says, holding out her hand for me to shake.

  “Hey.” Every part of this feels wrong, and I don’t give her my name.

  If Henry wants to fight for Kiki, what he’s doing right now with Daphne and the other girl, Melissa...is not fighting. But the real sham of the evening is me. Yes, me.

  What the fuck am I even doing here? Helping console Henry about his failed engagement while secretly cheering because it has?

  It’s irritating me how Henry flirts with the two women, leaving me standing here with my stick, trying to concentrate on a moot pool game.

  I mean, they just broke up a few hours ago. Come on, man, mourn the relationship a bit. This feels like it’s a major disservice to Kiki.

  I’d be a wreck. Actually, I am a wreck because I want Kiki and can’t have her.

  The drunk part of my brain is telling me to ditch Henry and rush off to call Kiki and beg her to go out with me. So, I can kiss her again.

  The blondes are now playing pool with us, and I try to ward off the octopus arms of Daphne.

  “So, you own a beer factory?” she slurs out like I’m some sort of Willy Wonka.

  “It’s a brewery, and they make the best beer in the world,” Henry says, sticking up for my family’s beer factory, right before he plants a kiss on Melissa.

  Should I pull him away? I mean, technically, he and Kiki broke up. Technically, Henry can do whatever the fuck he wants. And technically, so can I.

  I should call her.

  No.

  I line up my cue stick and sink the nine ball, trying my best to not think about how Kiki is now single. She’s the type of girl you bring home to meet the family.

  If you had a family worth meeting, and I do not. But, she’s already met my father, Yasmin, and Urban, so we’re ahead of the curve.

  Don’t get me wrong, Urban is a hell of a guy and definitely worth meeting, but the other two are a hard pass. What am I even thinking about right now? I can’t call her. I can’t even think about her.

  She just called off an engagement.

  “Ellis, are you listening to me? Daphne asks, with a scowl on her face.

  I scrub a hand down my jaw. “Sorry, I wasn’t. What did you say?” I lean an ear closer to her, so I can hear whatever it is she’s saying over the loud music of the bar.

  “I said, we should get out of here.”

  I glance over, and Henry is full on sucking face with the other chick. Fuck. Why can’t tonight be easy? To say I’m not completely over the moon about the news of Kiki and Henry’s break up is beside the point. I can’t handle Henry trying to drink and fuck his way into oblivion.

  “Henry, I think we should get going.” I separate him and the girl. They both react like five-year-old’s who were just told Santa isn’t real.

  I lean close to Henry’s ear. “Remember there’s a certain someone you want to win back.” Why am I doing this?

  Pure torture.

  “Right,” he says, like it’s an afterthought. “Yes, I should do that. Will you call Kiki for me?” He reaches in his pocket and thrusts his phone in my face. “Call her. Put in a good word for me.” He’s all but forgotten the woman at his side.

  “You should call her. Once you sleep and sober up. Let’s get you home.”

  “No.” He presses some buttons on the phone and then hands it over to me.

  And it’s ringing. And she’s answering.

  “Hello,” I say, “is this Kiki?”

  “Yes. Ellis is that you?”

  I rub the back of my neck. “Yeah, it’s me.” And it’s at this exact moment the whiskey shots I had earlier decide to take effect. I’m now delayed drunk. “How are you?” I slur out a bit. “Have I been this drunk the whole time?” I muse
, not at all meaning to say it aloud. “Shit, fuck, sorry.”

  “Is everything ok? Ellis are you drunk?”

  “It’s Henry.” I swat my hand at him, trying my best to get his attention away from fondling Melissa. “He called me and we had some drinks.”

  “Ah.”

  The background noise of the club fades away as I try to hone in on Kiki’s soft breathing. “Are you ok?” I ask her.

  “I’m fine,” she says with a bit too much chipper in her voice.

  I step away from the pool table, scouting out a quiet spot so I can talk to her. My feet lead me outside, where I lean against the wall, letting the cool breeze off the nearby ocean filter over me. “Doesn’t sound like you are.”

  “I’m just confused, ok?”

  “Hey, I get it.” There’s so many things I want to say to her right now. “I get it.”

  “Do you?” She lets out a huff of air. “Have you called off many weddings in the past?”

  I laugh a bit. “Maybe.”

  “Really?”

  “No. When I commit, it’ll be forever. No backing out.”

  “You think I’m awful, don’t you?” she questions.

  “Not at all.”

  “Is Henry really drunk?”

  I scan the club through the large window. He’s stopped making out with Melissa and the three of them are laughing. “Yeah, he’s pretty wasted. Don’t worry, though. I’m taking care of him.”

  “You? You sound drunk too.”

  “I may be a little drunk.”

  She laughs, and the sound jabs me in the chest.

  “Go out with me,” I blurt out.

  “What? Ellis…”

  Before she can shoot me down, I cut in, “I just need to discuss something with you. Over dinner. Or coffee.”

  “Ok. What about?”

  “A wedding for my dog.”

  “Really?” She pauses, “Um, sure, ok. Text me the details?”

  “You got it.”

  We disconnect, and apparently that saying about being truthful when you’re drunk is a lie.

  I don’t even have a dog.

  TWELVE

  Kiki

 

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