“No… I’m sure I saw the real you,” I snark. “What do you want to drink?”
“But, Syd…” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Either order or move along. The line is long, and I don’t have time to talk to you at the moment.”
“Fine…” he grumbles. “I’ll have a Sam Adams.”
“Are you sure you want to afford that?” I grumble under my breath as I turn to fill his order. He has some nerve talking to me again. I thought I made it clear I wanted nothing to do with him when I left him high and dry abruptly.
Shoving his drink at him, I ask what’s required of me, “Anything else I can get you?”
“Only another chance with you.”
Seriously? What the fuck is he thinking? He’d have a better chance of a snowball surviving in the depths of hell before I’d consider breathing the same air as him—on purpose.
His eyes feign remorse, but I’m not buying it. This guy is in a class all to his own when it comes to his douchery. Yeah, I made that word up, but you get the point. There’s no fucking way I’d ever consider it—even if Vince weren’t in the picture.
“Uh… No… thanks,” I tack on when I see my boss step up next to us.
“Everything okay, Syd?” he asks more for Fucking Brad’s sake than mine. This is what happens when he realizes someone is giving his bartenders a hard time or they are unwelcome.
“No problem at all,” Brad mutters like the fucking douche-canoe he is as he grabs his beer from the bar.
“That’s what I thought.” Asher stands a bit taller and glares in Brad’s direction as he hastily retreats and disappears into the crowded bar.
Then his attention is on me. “Are you sure you’re okay, Syd?”
“Nothing I can’t handle,” I assure him with a confident smile.
“Good. I’m here if you need anything,” he reminds me as he walks to help another customer at the end of the bar.
My next patron steps up to the bar and within minutes, Brad is out of sight and out of mind. The rest of the night goes by in a blur and the next thing I know, we’re making ‘last call,’ and my shift is almost over.
As Asher walks me to my car at the end of night, I see Brad getting into his. He doesn’t see me, but the thought of him being here this late after the bar closes gives me the creeps.
As soon as I shut my car door, I instantly push the locks and crank the engine. Asher waves and mouths his goodbye as I put my car in reverse and flee the parking lot. I know nothing happened, and I can totally handle myself when it comes to Brad, but him being here gives me the heebie-jeebies for some unexplained reason.
The next day, I work on a project and study for an exam rather than join Vince and his family for dinner. Though I’m disappointed I’m unable to spend the evening with him, I can’t afford to get behind in my studies either.
Just as I’m about to call it quits for the night, I get my nightly text from Vince.
Vince: How was your day?
Me: I got a lot done.
Vince: Call?
Instead of typing my reply, I hit the dial button on my phone, and the thought of hearing his sexy voice has a smile tugging at my lips.
“Hey, you,” his gruff sleepy voice greets me.
“Hey, you,” I parrot—lost in the way his voice sends butterflies swarming through my veins.
“How was your day?” he asks with curiosity.
“Not bad. I got my project done, and I’m ready for our test tomorrow.”
“I’m ready, too. In fact, I just finished studying and wanted to reach out before crashing. Jules was up at four thirty this morning. Though Van had to get up with her, I heard them, and I couldn’t get back to sleep.”
“Man, that’s rough. I didn’t get to bed until nearly three, so I’d be dead on my feet if I were you.”
“Damn, I have no idea how you keep that schedule.”
“Easy.” I smile. “I get to sleep in and have no responsibilities until the afternoon, remember?”
“Speaking of work, you never told me earlier how last night went.”
“Uh… it was fine…” And then I cringe, remembering Brad’s brief appearance.
“That doesn’t sound fine…” he draws out, picking up on my sudden discomfort.
Shaking it off, I downplay it for what it was. “It’s really nothing. A guy I went out on one disastrous date with showed up and wanted me to give him another chance.”
“Okay…” The way Vince stretches the single word, I know without a doubt he’s expecting me to answer his unasked questions.
Knowing he needs further explanation but not wanting to get into it too much, I force a laugh. “Don’t worry, Vince… You have nothing to worry about. I told him no. And that was the end of it.” Basically.
“I’m not worried.” Vince sounds a tad defensive, but I’m not entirely sure if that’s the correct word to describe his tone.
“Seriously, Vince. If it were something, I’d tell you.” Because let’s face it. Nothing did happen, and I’m not about to make a mountain out of a mole hill.
“I know you have to work tomorrow night, but you’re welcome to drop by before your shift for dinner. I know it’s selfish—but I’ll admit that it sucked not seeing you today.”
This guy. My heartstrings pull, and my smile returns.
“Of course. I’d love to. I’m caught up with schoolwork.”
We’re both quiet for a long moment until Vince clears his throat.
“Listen. I’m sorry to cut this short, but I need to crash. God forbid, Jules doesn’t sleep again tonight. I think I might pass out in class if that’s the case. Today I was draggin’ ass big time, and I can’t do it again tomorrow.”
“No problem. I’ll see you in class.”
“Night, Syd.” His rich timbre makes my body melt into the couch. God, I really like this guy.
“Night, Vince,” I force out then end the call.
After hanging up, I find myself clutching my phone to my chest, savoring this feeling as long as I can. Though, eventually, I force myself to get off the couch and get on with my night.
Just as we’re all sitting down to dinner the next night, Vanessa’s phone rings.
“Wonder what the daycare is calling me for at this time of day?” she voices aloud.
Vince looks warily to his sister, and our conversation from before abruptly ends while we wait to see what happens.
“Oh my….” Her expression morphs from shock to contemplation as she mutters, “Okay… we’ll make that work… Let me know when it’s back on… thanks for calling…. I will.”
As she turns to Vince, her face fills with worry. “That was the center. Apparently, a water main broke and parts of the daycare flooded. They don’t expect water to be running at the daycare until tomorrow afternoon, so Julia doesn’t have a place to be tomorrow.”
Before either of us can respond, Vanessa practically shouts in frustration. “Shoot. I have two exams tomorrow and can’t miss class.”
“I’ve got one, too,” Vince sighs. “We’ll figure something out,” he says as if he’s trying to calm her.
“I’ve got an idea…” I toss out to the room.
With all eyes on me, Vince asks me to explain when I freeze. “And what’s that…”
“Well, I’m not sure how you’d feel about this… but as I don’t have classes tomorrow, I could watch her.”
“But you work until nearly three in the morning. I have to leave a little after seven to make it to my first class across campus. Would you want to be up at that time?”
“I’ve survived on less.” I shrug in an attempt to not make it a big deal. “As long as I get to bed at a decent time tomorrow night, I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Vanessa asks apprehensively.
“If you’d rather find someone else, I’m okay with that, too,” I offer, trying to let her off the hook if she’d prefer I not watch Julia.
Julia interrupts the conversation, “W
ill I really get to spend the day with Sydney?”
Her eagerness makes every minute of lost sleep entirely worth it.
Vanessa emphatically shakes her head. “No… I’d love it if you watched her. I have the early shift at the diner and like Vince said, he has to be at class early. Would you mind coming over before he leaves? It’s likely easier to hang out here for the day—with all of Julia’s things here.”
“No problem at all.” I smile, and it’s set. I’m officially Julia’s babysitter tomorrow.
20
Vince
Just as I’m getting into bed the next night, my phone vibrates with an incoming text notification.
Knowing there’s only one person who’d text at this hour, a smile automatically forms on my lips.
Swiping open the screen, I’m delighted to find she’s sent a beautiful selfie—not that she’s ever not beautiful. All it shows is her face, but her smile is infectious, and my mood lifts higher.
Sydney: I’m on break and just wanted to say good night. Ready for your exam tomorrow? Or still studying?
Me: I’m ready. How was your night?
Sydney: Ugg… Brad showed up again, and he hasn’t left.
Instantly, I’m on alert. Carefully, I consider how to construct my next message to keep from sounding like an ass.
Me: Has he been bothering you again?
Sydney: Yes and no. He tried to get me to talk with him earlier, but he’s not bothering me anymore.
Me: You okay?
Immediately, the dots appear.
Sydney: Yeah… he’s just a nuisance.
Me: You sure?
Sydney: Gotta get back on shift. We just got a rush. Night.
Well, that didn’t answer my question.
I flop back into bed and attempt finding comfort.
Yeah. That’s not happening.
Contemplating my options, I stare at the ceiling.
Instinctually, I flop back the covers and pull on a pair of jeans. There’s no way I’m letting her be harassed by some douchebag if I can help it.
I slip on my shirt from earlier as I exit my room. Unfortunately, my venture won’t go unnoticed because I run into Vanessa in the kitchen. She jumps at my unexpected rush into the room.
“Where are you off to?” Confusion is evident in her voice.
“I need to check on something,” I mumble, slipping on my shoes.
Concern immediately replaces her confusion. “Everything okay?”
“I think so…” But I need to see for myself, to be sure. There’s no way in hell I’ll be able to sleep if she has to work the rest of her shift before I hear from her. “I’ll be back in a bit. Just lock up… and I’ll tell you more in the morning.”
Vanessa’s expression clearly says she wants to say more, but she just nods in understanding. “Tell Sydney I said hello.”
Somehow, she always knows.
Shaking my head at her intuition, I mutter, “I will.”
Without another word, I rush to the garage and jump into my Jeep. It revs to life in an instant. Irritation flows through me as I wait for the slower as shit door to give me enough clearance.
Thankfully, the streets are empty as I make my way to the bar, but for a school night, the parking lot is packed. Sydney mentioned something about a drink special that drives the crazy co-eds in, but since I don’t really frequent bars, I don’t understand the hype.
Thankfully, there isn’t a line and when I flash the bouncer my ID, I’m let in with ease.
Immediately, I spot Sydney behind the bar, and relief washes over me. Damn, she’s beautiful. Her long, red hair is pulled back into a high ponytail, and she’s pouring drinks like a woman on a top-speed mission. Her beauty and grace make it difficult not to stop and stare. There’s only one other bartender helping with this crowd, and he’s on the opposite side, busy with his own customers. The line behind the person she waits on is about five people deep.
As if she senses me, her eyes dart to mine and widen like saucers—but she doesn’t miss a beat with the drink she’s mixing.
Shit.
She doesn’t exactly look happy to see me.
I make my way to her line through the crowd to wait my turn. Her eyes dart to mine every few seconds, making me doubt my reasoning for being here in the first place. I have no fucking clue what to make of her expression. Sometimes, she looks happy to see me, yet I swear that’s not necessarily the case.
When I finally step up to the bar to place my order, her tone is cold and nowhere near her usual self. “What can I get for you?”
Shit. This isn’t good. “Uh… a Coke?”
Syd’s eyebrows raise to her hairline. “You came all this way to get a Coke… at midnight?” Yeah… she’s clearly not buying it.
Trying to sound playful, I smirk, “I was thirsty.”
“And you thought coming here would quench your thirst?”
Oh, that sass is in full force.
Having only ever seen her use this tone with my buddy Derek, I can’t say I’m thrilled with this kind of shade thrown at me.
In for a penny, in for a pound. “You do make the best drinks in town.”
“Hey, buddy? Are you ordering more or what?” a guy from behind me interrupts.
“Wait over there,” she demands, pointing to an empty barstool as she hands me a glass of Coke. “I’ll deal with you in a minute.”
Deal with me… shit, this really isn’t good.
“Okay.” I nod in agreement and take a seat.
At least I have an excuse to sit at the bar and watch her while the line behind me remains steady. There’s no telling if she’ll actually get to talk to me before closing time and as I watch, I’m not sure what reaction I’ll receive when she finally does get back to me. Sometimes, I’d swear she’s happy to see me, but the minute that thought crosses my mind, I’m gifted with an annoyed glare. Eventually, she ignores me altogether but then again, she’s slammed with customers.
I guess only time will tell.
To pass the time, I alternate from watching the dance floor as well as Sydney, so I don’t look like a total creeper. Sydney focuses her attention on the patrons in front of her. Occasionally, I’ll catch her eye, but she immediately pulls away—almost as if she doesn’t allow herself to look in the first place.
When a girl slides up to me and tries to make conversation, I barely get to respond before Sydney’s right there asking, “Is there anything else I can get for you?”
Smiling, I use this opportunity to let the stranger realize I’m not interested. “I’m good, Syd. Just waiting for you.”
Immediately, the girl stiffens then turns abruptly on a dime in the other direction. It’s almost comical to watch her slither back to where she came from.
When she’s lost in the crowd, I turn my attention to Syd, and it’s all I can do not to laugh at her shocked innocence expression. Coyly, she grins. “Was it something I said?”
“No idea. But I’m glad she figured out the only one I’m interested in here is you.”
“Flattery will get you nowhere, Vincent Daniel Larson. I’ve still got a bone to pick with you—even if you are completely adorable when you act like a Neanderthal.”
“Neanderthal? Really?”
Pointedly, she puts me in my place. “Yes. Really. But since it’s only about thirty minutes to closing, you’ll have to wait until then so we can talk.”
Shit. Is it really that late? Glancing at my phone, I realize she’s right.
I’m so gonna hate my alarm in a few hours.
But if she can survive on such little sleep, I suppose I can, too.
“I guess I’ll wait for your wrath then,” I tease, trying to lighten the mood.
Her lower lip quirks, but her mouth remains closed as she turns to finish restocking the bar. The other guy behind the bar hollers, “Last call,” and the remaining crowd gets their last drink for the night.
I have no idea how Sydney keeps up the way she does with orders be
ing shouted at her over the music, but her customers are satisfied and walk away happy.
When the DJ turns off the music, only a few people remain. The lights get brighter, and the crowd disperses quickly when this happens. A bouncer approaches me but before he can ask me to leave, Sydney says, “It’s okay. He’s with me.”
Shrugging as an apology for reading it wrong, he nods once in my direction and disappears into a back room off to the side of the bar.
The longer I sit, the more I feel like an ass for coming in the first place. No one approached her other than to get a drink they ordered. I wonder who this “Fucking Brad” is. Did he leave before I got here? Or had she already handled the situation?
Pulling out my phone, I reread the texts.
No—I wasn’t wrong in coming here. Clearly, he’d been bothering her. Don’t even get me started on how she left things… what else was I supposed to do?
But now she thinks I’m a Neanderthal.
My thoughts are interrupted with a tight, “Are you ready?”
Clearly, she’s back to being upset.
She doesn’t reach for my hand or show any emotion for that matter. She simply walks without another word to the door.
Okay, Larson… how are you getting out of this one?
She’s silent as she walks out the door and into the parking lot. Seeing her car across the street, she heads in that direction.
But right before she stops to cross the street, she spins to face me with a finger poking in my direction.
“I don’t do jealous.” Holy Hell… she’s pissed.
“Whoa… that’s not what’s going on…” I attempt to defuse but no luck.
Her head instantly cocks to the side as she punches her hip with her other hand. “Really? Because that’s not what it looks like. I mention a guy I went out on ONE date with… one… and don’t get me started on how it was the date from hell… but you come rushing down here to stake your claim?”
Vince: Book Two of the Perfectly Independent Series Page 17
