by Sandra Marie
She pulled up to her house and put her car in park. As she was reaching for her bag, her cell phone rang. Probably Grandma making sure she got home okay. She took the phone in her hand but didn’t recognize the number. Normally she would have ignored it, but maybe this phone call was a plot twist to her life. She wasn’t going to pass it up just in case.
She answered and nearly fell out of her seat when the familiar voice drifted across the line. It was as silky smooth as she remembered it.
“Hi, Lauren, it’s Gavin.”
Lauren wanted to say hi but she couldn’t get her brain and her mouth to get on the same page. What in the world was Gavin Mills doing calling her?
“Are you there?” he asked.
“Uh hi,” she finally managed.
“I hope it’s okay that I’m calling. I asked Lily May for your number, and in her defense, she really didn’t want to give it to me without checking with you first, but I can be very persuasive.”
“Did I forget something at the bar?” she asked, wondering why Lily May didn’t pick whatever it was up herself and bring it to book club.
“No, at least not that I saw. Are you missing something?”
“No. I… Just trying to figure out why you would call.”
There was a moment of silence, and her heart beat rapidly against her chest. She could hear each thump in her ear and couldn’t help but wonder if Gavin could hear it too.
“I really enjoyed talking with you the other night,” he finally said.
That was completely unexpected. She assumed he was doing his bartenderly duty and that the conversation didn’t mean anything beyond that, even though it was a nice conversation and she fantasized about it meaning more. “I enjoyed talking with you too,” she admitted.
“Really? That’s great because I was wondering if you’d want to talk some more. Like go out sometime and talk. Not to pressure you or anything because I wouldn’t want to make you feel pressured.”
“I would like that.”
“If you need time to think about… wait, was that a yes?”
She laughed, loving how unsure of himself he sounded. Gavin Mills was one of the hottest guys she’d ever met, and he was charming to boot. The fact that he was babbling while speaking to her was seriously adorable.
“It was a yes,” she confirmed through a smile she couldn’t seem to control.
“That’s great. How about lunch tomorrow? Say around noon.”
“I’ll be at work.” While she did get a lunchbreak, she’d been using that forty-five minutes to help a senior citizen who was a frequent patron of the library with how to use the Internet. His daughter had moved a few states over, and he wanted to video chat with his grandkids. After she showed him the basics, he had asked Lauren to show him a few more things like Instagram that his granddaughter was a big fan of. Lauren couldn’t cancel on Carl, though she believed Carl would understand, but still she didn’t want to stand the poor guy up.
“I can’t tomorrow,” she said. “I have something at work I can’t miss. What about tomorrow night? We can do dinner.”
When he didn’t answer right away, her stomach knotted. Lunch dates didn’t usually carry the potential to go on into the night like a dinner date did, and hopefully he didn’t think she was trying to move this along too quickly especially since that was the last thing she wanted.
“I can’t,” he said, and she deflated.
“No, you’re right. Dinner is too much too soon.”
“What? No, that’s not it. I’m working tomorrow. I pretty much work every night of the week except on Monday’s when we’re closed. It’s just until I can hire someone to help cover the hours.”
“Are you telling me that you are the only bartender?”
“For right now. When I bought the place, I couldn’t afford to take on any employees. I’m hoping in the next couple of months, but until then, I can’t do dinner. Unless you want to bring takeout and sit at the bar and watch me work.” He chuckled like it was a joke, though it actually didn’t sound all that bad.
She thought about her conversation with Grandma and then just decided to take a chance. “What are you doing right now?” she asked.
“I’m getting ready to open the bar. And since my regulars won’t show up for at least another hour, and it’s usually dead until then, I’ll probably sit on my ass and read my book so I don’t have to look at that mess of a wall.”
“Then you have twenty minutes to get a few chapters in before I get there.”
“You’re coming now?” he asked, his voice incredulous.
It was time to claim a life she could only dream of. Normally she would never invite herself anywhere or drive across the city to go talk to some guy at a bar, but hearing Gavin’s voice had energized her, filled her with promise and even a hint of an unexpected adventure that she didn’t want to pass her by.
She got in her car and clicked her seatbelt into place. “Why the hell not,” she said.
“Great, I’ll see you soon.”
Lauren clicked out of the call and tossed her phone into the bag. Excitement zinged through her just as it did when an edge of your seat moment would happen in the book. It was what Grandma was talking about. A feeling that she never experienced because she assumed it was only meant for the pages.
She had no idea what to expect, but she knew that it was going to be good.
Now that the excitement coursed through her in a frenzy, she wished she’d spent more time outside of her books.
She would.
It was a vow to herself. This was s new leaf turning over. By going to Gavin’s, she was proving to herself that she was ready to give the real world a chance. Who knew, maybe Grandma was right. Maybe the world was full of its own surprises, and she just needed to give it a chance.
The drive, though, gave her too much time to think. Maybe she was too forward with Gavin. Maybe she should have let him figure out a better date than practically forcing herself on him at the last minute. He was working, so did he really want her hanging around the bar like some groupie? And did she want to be a groupie? Not really, but she did want to see him, and really that didn’t make her a groupie. Or did it…
She did her best to ignore the voice in her head telling her this was a mistake and continued driving toward the bar. She was done listening to that voice. For all she knew, going to see Gavin would be a huge mistake, but for once she wanted to find out instead of assuming.
She’d spent a lot of her life hiding from reality because it was easier than dealing with the fact that her parents didn’t love her enough to want her. Her life wasn’t a game or anything, but if it was, her parents were winning, by making her feel inferior and unworthy of love. Not that she expected love with Gavin. Oh, god no. That was ridiculous; they just met after all, but if she didn’t put herself out there, she would never know.
The bar appeared, and she drove until she found a place to park. She flipped her visor down, checked her makeup, and decided to add a little mascara and lip gloss. Nothing too much, she didn’t want to look desperate.
Then with a deep breath, she shed her inhibitions, got out of the car, and sauntered toward the bar.
Gavin listened to Devin drone on about his boss and how much he hated the bastard. For what it was worth, the guy did sound like an asshole, but Gavin didn’t understand why Devin didn’t quit. The job drove him into this stool at least three times a week. Gavin was grateful for the business, but Devin becoming a regular made him family, and Gavin hated to see the man so miserable. Then again, miserable was the only thing he’d ever seen Devin as. He wondered if Devin even knew how to be happy.
He couldn’t have been much older than Gavin, mid-thirties at the latest, but he ambled around like he carried seventy years of problems on his back. His black hair was starting to gray at the edges, and the lines around his eyes only seem to get deeper each day. There wasn’t much Gavin could do for him except offer an ear to listen, so that’s what he did.
&n
bsp; “Then the bastard.” Devin took a swig of his beer, finishing it off and pushing the empty glass across the bar. “Told me I didn’t know what I was doing. And get this.” Devin wiped at his mouth with his sleeve, and Gavin took the empty and began to refill it. It was only number four. By number five, he would cut Devin off.
Gavin raised an eyebrow waiting for him to finish, but the door opened, and both of their attention was drawn to the girl in the black tights and black skirt with small white polka dots that flared at her hips.
Lauren had that Jessica Day look that he always found adorable on Zooey Deschanel. She smiled at him and gave a shy wave. She looked sweet and innocent though he imagined with a smile that could knock a guy on his ass, she was anything but.
“Hey,” he said, enthusiastically. He motioned toward a stool a few over from Devin. The last thing Gavin wanted was for him to catch her ear. The poor girl wouldn’t be able to get out of here fast enough.
She slipped out of her coat, revealing her statuesque frame and looked around for a place to hang it. He hurried out from behind the bar and took the coat from her. “I got this,” he said. “Take a seat and get comfortable.”
She smiled, her cheeks rounding and turning red. “Thanks.”
“Yup. I’ll get you a drink as soon as I hang this.” He hung the coat on the hooks in the far corner near the dreaded construction area and went back. He slapped his hands against the top of the bar. “What can I get you?”
“I have to get up for work tomorrow and have to drive home, so I’ll have a…” She tapped a long, thin finger against the swell of her bottom lip. Her light brown eyes widened, and her teeth slid against her lip. “Do you know what a Roy Roger is?” she asked.
“Do I know what a Roy Roger is?” he repeated, his tone playfully insulted.
“Wasn’t he a cowboy?” Devin asked, and Gavin watched as Lauren stifled a laugh.
“Technically he was a Western actor and singer, but what this beautiful lady is referring to is the drink.”
He gave her a wink and watched the red on her cheeks spread to her ears. He grabbed a glass and held it up. “The drink is similar to a Shirley Temple,” he explained to Devin. “Except a Shirley Temple is made with ginger ale or Sprite while a Roy Roger is made with cola. Both are equally delicious,” he said. “And something I drank as a kid at my dads’ parties.”
“Your dads’ parties, sounds fancy,” Lauren said, tugging on her sleeves and adjusting them to sit right on her wrists.
“Not really. They just liked to show off their china.” They had more than enough of it. It seemed every year they fell in love with a new pattern, but it made gift buying easy.
“I always wonder what it would be like to have china one day. I mean right now I’m lucky if I even use a plate.”
“I’ve been known to use a paper towel or a box a time or two.”
“You too?” Lauren laughed. “I’m glad it’s not just me. It’s just that fancy plates like the kind that can break by looking at them are so expensive. Why am I going to spend that kind of money on something when I can just make do for little to no cost, and if it breaks, oh well.”
“Thank you!” Gavin declared, hands flinging out in front of him. “And when you’re finished you can just toss it away. Don’t have to wash it. I have been trying to tell my dad’s that for years! They can’t even serve chips without pulling out all the fancy serveware.”
She looked at him eyebrow raised in amusement. “Did they serve you your Roy Rogers in fancy wine glasses?”
“Oh no. Only wine belongs in wine glasses. Roy Rogers would go in double old fashioned glasses.”
“That sounds so fancy. I don’t even know what that is,” Lauren said, tucking a strand of brown hair behind her delicate ear.
Gavin reached for a glass and held it up. “We refer to it as a rock glass or a tumbler. And ready for me to get really nerdy?”
She shimmied on her stool like she was bracing herself. “I’m ready.”
“A traditional old fashioned glass holds six to eight ounces, whereas a double can hold between twelve and fourteen.”
“Look at that,” she said. “I learned something new today.”
Gavin took a bow. “You’re welcome.”
“You’re pretty proud of yourself right now, aren’t you?” she asked, her cheeks pressing up from her smile.
He lifted his fingers, holding his thumb and pointer apart slightly. “Maybe a little.”
“He’s a pretty smart guy.” Devin pointed his finger at Gavin, managing to put his whole body into it and almost upending the stool.
“I don’t doubt it,” Lauren said, offering the poor guy a smile.
“He’s one of the good ones. There’s not many like that in the world, you know? Like my boss who is the reigning champ of assholes.”
“Oh.”
“You don’t believe me?” he asked. “I bet he has a trophy that says asshole that he polishes every night.” He waved his finger in front of his face. “Actually, he probably has some poor sap polish it for him.”
The first time Devin came in going on about his boss, Gavin automatically thought it was Ashton since Gavin thought some of the things Devin said could apply. Gavin was relieved when he found out he wasn’t. He was also relieved to find out that Ashton was actually a really good boss, at least according to his personal assistant, Alex who stopped in for a drink every now and again, and Gavin had become friends with.
“He sounds terrible,” Lauren said. “Why don’t you quit?”
Devin lifted his glass and downed the rest of the contents. “Because my mom will never forgive me.”
“I’m not following,” Lauren said.
“My asshole of a boss is good ol’ daddy dear.”
Gavin’s eyes widened, he was shocked he didn’t know that little tidbit, but now that he did, it all made sense. Lauren leaned her chin on her hand with renewed interest. “Tell me more,” she said.
“Don’t encourage him,” Gavin mumbled under his breath, knowing darn well Devin was too oblivious to notice or care.
Lauren turned to him and whispered. “This is better than any book.”
The excitement in her eyes at Devin’s misfortune would’ve been a little alarming, but he knew how much she loved a good story. He’d learned that much from her the first time they chatted.
They listened to Devin rant and rave about his father and how he was basically stuck at the family business in order to keep the peace, but really always wanted to own his own business where he was the boss. For the first time in the year Devin had been taking up space on his barstool, Gavin understood the guy completely. He knew exactly how it felt to be pressured by family to do something you didn’t want to do. The only difference was, Gavin stood up for himself, refusing to piggyback on Ashton and be his shadow. Devin was so far in his father’s shadow it was as if he didn’t even have his own anymore. Gavin had always felt bad for the guy but now that sympathy extended to something more deeply.
“I’ve about talked your pretty little ear off,” Devin said. “I should get going, leave you two to your date.”
“I’ll call you an Uber,” Gavin said.
“Already did.” Devin held up his phone and waved it back and forth, his body rocking with the movement. “I just got a notification he’s down the road.”
“How do you know this is a date?” Lauren asked, wiggling her finger between them.
“I heard him on the phone with you.”
“Ah,” Lauren said.
Devin slipped into his coat and pulled out his wallet. Gavin held his hand up. “It’s on the house tonight.”
“Are you sure?” Devin asked.
Gavin really needed the money and giving out freebies was probably the dumbest move he could make right now, but it was the least he could do for the guy. “I’m sure.”
Devin shook his hand then turned to Lauren. “He’s one of the good ones. Treat him well.” And with that Devin headed out of the bar.
“Sorry about that,” Gavin said as he gathered up Devin’s glass and half-eaten bowl of pretzels.
“What are you sorry about?”
“I’m sure you didn’t think you’d be listening to some sad guy’s story when I asked you to come here tonight.”
“Are you kidding?” she said. “He should think about writing a book. That stuff is fiction gold. The animosity and regrets.”
“Don’t look too happy over the poor guy’s misfortune.”
She held her hands over her face, but he could see the red blazing across her cheeks. “Sorry. That was really rude of me. I wouldn’t want someone to be excited over my crappy history with my parents.”
Gavin’s curiosity piqued. “Crappy history?”
She pointed at him. “There you go with that bartender mumbo jumbo.”
“You kind of opened the gates there.”
“I guess I did.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, and the light in her eyes dimmed.
“We don’t have to talk about it. The last thing I want is for you to feel awkward or uncomfortable. Maybe in time, after a few more dates, you’ll want to tell me.”
“A few more dates?” she asked, taking the maraschino cherry out of her drink and plopping it into her mouth. She closed her mouth around the little round fruit. With a flick of her wrist, she detached it and placed the stem on the napkin. “You sound pretty confident about that.”
“Maybe not as confident as I am hopeful. Besides, tonight can’t really count as a date. You spent more time talking to Devin than you did me.”
She placed her elbow on the bar, chin resting on her hand and she tilted her head. “Feeling left out?”
“Maybe a little.”
“Then I shall pay you all my attention.” She winked at him and nodded to the maraschino cherries. “What does a girl have to do to get an extra cherry?”
