“Well, thank you. I think my night just got interesting.” She gave Olivia a side glance. “Sorry, hon, no offense.”
“None taken.”
Jessica turned in her seat and waved flirtatiously at the guy down the bar.
“Do you mind?” She nodded toward the direction where the cute stranger sat.
“I thought you came out to console me?” Olivia frowned.
“Yes and I did.”
“Alright, go. I’ll be fine. I’ll just sit here all by myself.”
“You’re not alone! You got this charming man in front of you.” Jessica looked up at the bartender, who was smiling.
“Go easy on her. She’s going through a tough time…” Jessica sympathetically placed her hand on Olivia’s shoulder “…she just broke up with her fiancé.”
Did a shadow of surprise cross the stranger’s face?
“Jessica!”
Olivia considered herself a private person and hated to reveal any parts of herself, especially to strangers.
Jessica leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Olivia, try to be nice.”
She walked away leaving Olivia and the bartender. Now looking at him carefully, she definitely saw him before, but wasn’t sure where. An awkward moment passed as they both searched for something to say.
“Rough night. It seems your friend left you too …”
Her head snapped right up. Did he assume she was the one dumped?
“I wasn’t dumped.”
He frowned. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to …”
She stared at him for a moment until she felt her phone buzzing from within her leather handbag. After several seconds, Olivia finally got to her phone buried underneath receipts, gum wrappers, and now a substantial collection of notes from Mr. Universe.
“What?” What was he looking at?
He smiled. “Need any help?”
“I’m good, thanks.” She smirked sarcastically, waving her phone in the air.
She had fifteen missed calls, all from Dario. There was no way she was going to call him back. What was there left to say? She thought about her father and how this would play out. It would be another blow, and he’d be crushed when he learns his future son-in-law was a narcissistic cheat.
No, tonight she didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t wish to think about anything.
God, she needed a cigarette.
“What do you have in there?” He made an attempt to peek inside, but Olivia pulled her bag away.
She dropped her phone back into the oblivion. “None of your business.”
“So, what’s your story?”
Olivia frowned. “Believe me; you don’t want to know.”
“Try me?”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re going to have to tell me something better if you want to keep me interested.” He smiled gallantly.
“O … okay …” She glanced up at him. “How about … none of your business!” She flashed him a sweet, innocent smile, twirling a strand of hair that came undone from her bun.
“Ouch! Aren’t you a chatty one?”
“Sorry, I don’t want to seem rude but—”
“Too late for that, darling.” He frowned.
She glared at him. “Did you just call me darling? Please don’t call me that.”
Another buzzing sound came from her bag. This time, it was her mom. Olivia cringed, knowing Dario had been calling around looking for her. She wasn’t ready to face reality and placed her phone on the counter. Her eyes veered up at the bartender’s amused face.
Yes, that’s right, funny guy. My life’s a mess.
Olivia had a talent for keeping things together, bottling up her emotions for no one to witness. Now she was losing control, and the thread kept unraveling. Olivia wasn’t even sure if there would be anything left of her once the mess she had created was cleaned up. Her heart pretended not to imagine how it was going to end, so now she found herself at the mercy of the stranger’s soulful eyes. For a moment, Olivia thought she might cry.
“Listen,” His eyes softened. “If you need someone to talk to …”
“You can’t possibly understand what I am going through.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. What do I know of messy break-ups?”
Olivia could tell by the hurt look in his eyes that he had been through something. She recognized the lack of brightness and life in his gaze because she’d seen it every time she passed a mirror.
“You know what you need? A stranger who doesn’t know your backstory. I promise I won’t judge.”
“Oh my God, you’re a walking cliché.” A sarcastic laugh escaped her lips. “No, I’m fine thanks.”
“You know, I’m pretty good at listening.”
He was relentless.
Olivia glanced around the room. “Oh, I’m sure you’re quite qualified.”
His brows came together. “Hey, who’s being judgemental? Didn’t your mother teach you not to judge a book by its cover?”
“Yes, she also taught me not to talk to strangers.”
He laughed. “Well, we aren’t exactly strangers, sweetheart.” His eyes said something more. She had the feeling that they knew each other. Maybe he had recognized her … but from where? She couldn’t place him for the life of her.
“Do we know each other?” Perhaps he was one of the fit models that D.S. designs occasionally hired to do their fittings, but he didn’t appear like model material. Most models she worked with were attractive and charming, and he was fashionably challenged … like he just rolled out of bed.
“Not necessarily, but you’ve seen me around.”
What was he talking about? This was the first time she’d been in this bar, the first time she’d ever seen this man … or so she thought.
“You don’t know a thing about me, so please don’t act like you do.”
He smirked as though he could prove her otherwise.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What’s so funny?”
“Well, I already have a feel for you … just by your appearance.”
Olivia glanced down. She was wearing her blue turtleneck with a gray wool pencil skirt. She considered her outfit professional enough to wear to the office.
“What’s wrong in the way I dress?”
“Nothing, you dress quite lovely.” He smiled with a hint of animosity. “But it says a lot about your personality. Just an observation.” His eyes swept over the top length of her, which had made her uncomfortable. She leaned further in her chair, placing her arms across her chest. If he was judging her based on what she was wearing, then what he wore didn’t say anything positive about him. He wore a lame, wrinkled T-shirt with bold red letters: DEATH BEFORE SHAVE. Immature and irresponsible. He followed her gaze down to his tee, then snapped his eyes back up to meet hers.
His smile widened to one side. “Like what you see?”
Olivia couldn’t seem to form any words and the blood rush to her cheeks. Why on Earth was she blushing? Olivia straightens herself up in her chair, trying to compose herself.
“Okay, Mr. Bartender, so tell me … what does my appearance say about me?”
He observed her for a moment. “Well, the turtleneck and your hair all tied up at the top, tells me you’re incapable of fun. You’re uptight, so afraid of people finding out the real you.” He leaned back into the counter behind him.
“You’re wrong. I’m not uptight! I know how to have fun … I’m a very fun person.” As the words rolled out of her mouth, they didn’t sound too convincing, not even to herself.
Olivia gazed at him from the corner of her eye. “Well, Mr. Bartender, did you get your degree in a Cracker Jack box?”
“Aren’t you a smart ass.” He laughed, placing his hands on his hip. “No, I got it from the same place you got your attitude from.”
Who was this guy, making her all flustered and aggravated? Why couldn’t she just get up and go?
Yes, she should go. She grabbed her purse an
d phone.
“Wait, it wasn’t funny. I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “Please stay. I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Olivia glanced down the bar to where her friend sat with the handsome stranger. Jessica was laughing and obviously having a good time. Maybe Olivia was a little uptight. Could she try at least to loosen up just a little? After all, this guy’s description of her wasn’t far from the truth.
“You know, I like you.” He stated a matter-of-factly.
Her face burned with heat, a good indication he had some effect on her.
“No offense, but you’re not my type.” Olivia spat the words out, coming out more vicious than she intended.
He studied her for a moment. “I disagree.”
“Really?” Olivia glanced around the room. Sitting at a table further down were two attractive blondes. They had been trying to get his attention, but he was oblivious to their efforts. “Those girls over there are waiting to be served, you probably have better luck with them than with me tonight.”
He followed her gaze until his landed on the pair of enthusiastic, smiley blondes. “Oh, those girls are not my type. Beautiful brunettes with a smart mouth are.”
Olivia picked up the glass to conceal her smile. She had lost her touch; shutting guys down and crushing their hopes was what she did best. Somehow she couldn’t seem to make him crack. She couldn’t shake his annoying, relentless heaven-sent attitude. Gosh, she wanted to hate him.
“I bet your boss wouldn’t be pleased you’re here flirting with me instead of doing your job.”
His smile faded. “You’re probably right, but I think you’re worth getting fired over.”
“You think you’re charming?”
“Well, it all depends on how it’s working for you.”
“Not so good,” she said flatly.
He rubbed his jaw. “Okay, so what will it take for you to go out with me?”
Olivia looked at him in disbelief. “Well, for starters I am in no condition to start anything with anyone, sorry.” She shrugged.
“Well, that’s a shame.”
“A shame for whom?” she laughed.
“For you.”
“Look, you seem like a nice guy, but technically I’m still in a relationship.”
“Yeah, apparently with someone who’s not right for you,” he added. “I think we’re meant to be more than just two ships passing in the night.”
“Hmmm … might I remind you your ship is actually sinking …”
“Really?”
“Pretty much since we began this conversation— Oh, look at that! Your ship is completely underwater.”
He laughed. “That bad?”
She nodded her head slowly. “I’m afraid so.”
“But you never know, I might be the one you’re looking for.” His eyes twinkled with amusement.
She was taken aback. “I … I’m not looking for anyone. The only reason I’m here tonight was to get away from someone.”
“Right, and here you are … you found me instead. You can’t deny it’s not serendipity.”
“Serendipity?” Olivia repeated.
“Look, I believe you walked into this bar tonight, not by chance, and I was meant to talk to you. When you’re not looking for something and find something extraordinary, that’s serendipity.” He motioned with his hand in the air like it was some magic trick.
She observed in silence, wondering if this sort of crap worked with other women.
“You think you’re something extraordinary?”
“No, not me … us,” he replied.
Olivia laughed. “Do girls fall for this kind of stuff?”
“I wouldn’t know,” he replied honestly and let out a long breath. “Alright look, we got off on the wrong foot. Can we call it a truce?”
Olivia bit her lip. She hated to admit it, but she was kind of having fun, well maybe just a little. He did manage to get her to forget her problems at least for the moment.
“Nick Montgomery.” He encouraged her by holding out his hand.
She hesitated before taking it. “Olivia … Montiano.”
“Olivia Montiano? Is that your real name?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be?” Her brows tangled together.
“You’re not one of those girls who like to toy with men. Give them a fake name and number?”
“Do I look like the kind of girl who would do such a thing?”
He amusingly narrowed his eyes at her.
“Okay.” She laughed. “Yes, Olivia is my name. I was named after Olivia Hussey.”
“No way!”
She caught sarcasm and narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you familiar with Olivia Hussey?”
“Yeah, sure. Everyone knows who Olivia Hussey is … okay, not really.”
“She’s an actress, obviously one of my mother’s favorites.”
He shrugged. “Anyhow, it’s a lovely name.”
He tapped his fingers on the counter. “Montiano … where have I heard that name before? Sounds very familiar to me.”
She shrugged innocently. Her surname name had been all over the news for the past year.
“Hey, you know what I realized? We share the same first four letters in our surname. You have to admit it’s more than a coincidence.” he said.
“Wow! A good observation.” She smirked, not seeing what the big deal was.
He studied her for a moment, raising his hands in the air in defeat.
“Alright, Olivia Montiano, I give up. I see you’re a woman of many well-kept secrets, and you have the right to them.”
After a short moment of silence, she said, “So, what’s your story?” She was trying to be a little more friendly-ish.
“Nope, I’m not going to tell you a single thing.”
“Alright, I guess I deserve that,” Olivia replied.
“Okay, you don’t have to twist my arm. I’ll tell you … but over dinner.”
“You don’t give up? No, that won’t be possible.”
“Are you afraid that you will find me interesting? See, I’m the type of guy who stays on your mind, long after you met me.” His eyes danced.
Oh great, he was one of those. Full of himself. She should introduce him to Dario.
“For sure. You’re not a guy who is … forgettable.” Olivia laughed.
“Are you making fun of me?”
“You’re a very strange man, Montgomery.”
He took out a blue pen from under the counter. “Give me your hand,” he asked and extended his hand to her. She hesitated for a moment, allowing him to take her hand in his.
“You’re not going to write your phone number, are you?”
“Only a fake one.” He smiled.
His hands were soft and warm to the touch, making her feel out of her element. She was aware of every breath he took as he sketched a little heart with jagged edges going down the middle on the inside of her wrist. The surprising thing was she didn’t want him to stop.
“What’s this?” Olivia asked.
“The first and important clue about me.” He gently let go of her hand.
“Someone broke your heart?” She frowned, regretting being too hard on him.
“You want to know more?” His eyes softened. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you …”
“So, I’m right?”
“Let me buy you dinner, and I will tell you more.” He smiled.
“But you didn’t tell me anything?” Olivia hesitated, recognizing a ploy when she saw one.
“Sorry to break it to you, but your plan is not working, Don Juan.” She looked at the time. “I should be going.” Staying late would be wrong on so many levels. Olivia obviously didn’t want to get involved, especially with someone who will never be able to fit in her life—let alone the type of guy her father would disown her over. If she stayed, she might be tempted to say yes, and that would only be leading him on further.
“Stay, things are finally starting to get good.”
<
br /> “As tempting as that might sound, I can’t … I had a very long day.” She turned away to get down from the stool.
“Roshambo,” he blurted out.
“What?” She said with a half laugh.
“Roshambo me for it. I win, you let me buy you dinner.”
“What’s Roshambo?” She giggled.
“You never played Roshambo before?”
“Hmmm … ah no.”
“Rock, Paper, Scissors?”
“Oh yeah, I played that before. Like when I was six,” she spat.
“I was right. You’re uptight.” He narrowed his eyes.
“I’m not uptight.”
“Prove it. Roshambo. If you win, I won’t bother you anymore. Fair enough?”
She took a moment before replying. “Alright fine.”
Olivia followed his lead. “RO.SHAM.BO,” they said in unison.
“You lose! Scissors cuts paper. Better luck next time, Montgomery.”
Did she say next time? Olivia didn’t mean that to come out the way it did. She beamed brightly at him while Nick shook his head, maybe a hint of disappointment.
She then called a taxi, placing her phone back on the counter. When Olivia asked how much she owes him for the drinks, Nick refused to take any money from her. He told her it was the least he can do since he had ruined her night. Though she would never admit it, not to him anyhow, Olivia had a good time.
Minutes later Olivia was about to enter her cab when she heard Nick’s voice calling out to her. She turned to see Nick holding out her scarf and her phone in his hands.
“You forgot these,” he said, walking toward her.
“Thank you.” She smiled.
He handed her the phone but refused to give back her scarf. Before Olivia could understand what he was trying to do, he gently lifted up her collar, draping the scarf around her neck. All at once it came to her why Nick was so familiar to her. Olivia understood why she didn’t recognize him at first, he wasn’t wearing that dreadful hat. These days there were plenty of men on the streets of Montreal who dubbed that same look—beanie and facial hair—so much it becoming difficult to tell them apart. Their gaze lingered a short moment.
“It’s you,” she said in amazement, but he remained silent. She had thought of all the times they came face to face and never said a single word. Like two perfect strangers, but now they weren’t strangers anymore … not exactly.
The Proverbial Mr. Universe Page 4
