by Clover Hart
He’s still swiping, and just as I realize I’m looking at him a little too long, I pull myself out of it and move toward Zach to give him a light hello-there shove. He laughs and reaches over to hug me. He’s good at hugging, and not in an icky way; it would’ve been something to have him around as a brother-in-law, if I were staying in Cherry Valley.
“I’m guessing Mandy told you the news,” I say.
“Yeah, and my calendar’s cleared for your party at the saloon. Congrats, Pen.”
“Thanks.” I squeeze him once more before I playfully push him away. “Are you prepared for me to drink you under the table?”
“Whiskey?”
“Cherry cider, of course.”
He smiles, but it fades a little. “So … Chicago. That’s a pretty big move, isn’t it?”
Is he going to be the latest person in this town to give me some grief about this?
As I shrug, Mandy slides a to-go box of pie to Zach’s business partner, who’s still immersed in his phone. Then Mandy comes over to us with that sad look on her face again. But I can tell she’s trying to seem happy for me.
Zach glances at her, grins at her in sympathy, then looks down at me. “Everyone knows this is a huge opportunity. I would say something about expanding your horizons, but—”
“Don’t,” Mandy says. “We’ll save it for the saloon.”
Zach’s partner looks up from his phone. “What’s the big deal about moving, anyway?”
Mandy and Zach exchange a glance like Do we really have to introduce these two? Hell, now that Penny’s leaving town, let’s finally get it over with.
Mandy sighs and says, “Penny, this is Barry Aaronson, Zach’s partner. Barry, this is my sister, Penny Burnett.”
Barry deigns to give me a look. At first, it’s the kind of look you’d give a mannequin in a store window as you walk on by. Then he pauses to sweep his gaze down the front of me, and by the time he sweeps it back up, something has changed in his eyes. His lips quirk up at one corner as he jerks his chin at me, then goes back to his phone.
Huh. Someone’s too cool for the room.
Mandy and Zach look at each other again, and I can tell that the introduction went about as well as they expected it to. They might even seem kind of relieved that Barry wasn’t as much of a turd as Mandy told me he is. He’s outwardly appealing enough to get a lot of dates, but he’s waaay more pretentious than Zach ever was, and without Zach’s good manners and small-town upbringing to boot.
I think they’re also happy that I’m not interested in this guy at all. And I’m also not intimidated, so I march on over to him and stick out my hand, waiting for him to glance up from his phone to notice.
Well, well, look at this — there’s a dating app on his screen. This perv is really checked out with his mental masturbation. Even so, I’m not backing down, and I continue to wait there with my hand out. When he does slowly raise his gaze, I grin, letting him know I’m onto his act.
“Nice to meet you, Barry,” I say.
“Sure.” His Royal Prickness shakes my hand, then drops it while still looking up at me, casually checking me out some more.
For some reason, my pulse is bopping and the skin on my hand is tingling, but I’m pretty sure it’s only because Barry is a jerk and I’m naturally drawn to them. Yet, I’ve vowed to leave every one of them behind in Cherry Valley. Yes, I’m built for dicks in so much more than one way — I like to mess around with them, and I’m drawn to the bad-news losers who have them. I’m practically a depository for boorish dicks. I’m where romance goes to die in this town. But no more.
Mandy and Zach have obviously gotten over Barry and me, because they’re back to linking fingers over the counter and staring like lovebirds. I realize that I’m stuck with Zach’s partner while he sits there taking my measure — or maybe that’s measurements — so I go with it, letting out a slow breath that informs him I’m keenly aware that he’s a letch.
“So,” I say.
“So.”
His voice is deep, and I try not to fall for it. I’m just going to start hating his voice right now.
He jerks his chin toward the opposite side of the bar where Abby was sitting. “I heard you sold your business.”
“Yes, I did. And here I thought you were so into your dating app that nothing around you was breaking through.”
“I can multitask,” he says, as if he couldn’t care less. “What kind of business was it?”
“It’s the curio shop down the street.”
He seems unimpressed. But of course.
“Why did you sell it?” he asks.
“I’m moving to Chicago to work in Human Resources for a software firm. It’s going to be amazing.”
“I’m sure it will.” He pauses, then seems to decide I’m worth talking to a bit more. “You’re getting a send-off party. Zach’s making me go.”
What is he? Zach’s child? “You don’t have to be there.”
“Nah, it’ll be … fun. I guess.”
I don’t think he’s all that convinced, but since he’s the only one in this room who hasn’t given me guff about moving, I go ahead and sit on the chair next to him, just until I can get Mandy’s attention again. Then I’ll give her the paperback, make a few plans for the party, and zip out of here to start really packing my stuff for the move. Or at least think about doing that. I’m so behind with the damned packing.
“If I’m being honest,” I say to Barry, testing just how far his sympathy goes, “I’m only attending the party because Mandy wants to throw one for me. I can’t say no to my sister.”
Barry actually smiles, and something light arcs through my chest. I decide that I’m going to hate his smile and his voice, just until I can leave the coffeehouse.
“Well, look at you,” he says with a small laugh. “You almost sound like you don’t appreciate everything Cherry Valley has to offer, including that ratty saloon where the party’s being held.”
“Oh, that saloon. There aren’t a lot of places around here where you can find a social scene, so it’ll do. But it’s so …”
“Unsophisticated.”
“Exactly!” He’s not calling me a snob like most people in this town would, so I lean a bit closer — close enough to smell something nice on him, like yummy laundry soap with a hint of spice. Not that I care. “Want to know something else? I can’t wait to get out of this town.”
His smile grows. “Shit, me too. But that’s not happening.”
I pull back a little, because my heart’s beating too hard. This is a good time to remind myself that I also hate my fetish for losers. Even so, we’ve been having an actual conversation, and as long as he doesn’t razz me about this move, I’ll hang out here for a few more minutes.
I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Odd. Do you know you’re the only one who hasn’t given me any pushback about leaving?”
“That’s because I don’t give a shit if you stay or go.”
My eyebrow really goes up. But he’s still smiling as if he’s only toying with me. Or maybe he really is that much of an ass.
When a line starts forming in front of Mandy, making it necessary for her to pull away from Zach and actually start working again, he gestures for Barry to leave. The guy doesn’t even say nice meeting you to me. He just picks up his pie box and jams out of there. Even Zach gives me a wave.
As Mandy slings coffee and pie, I sit there, frowning. I don’t know how it’s possible, but Barry is seriously kind of cute, and there were a few moments when I thought we could maybe get along. I can see how he might entrap some unsuspecting women into going out with him. But as Mandy would say, he probably has the romantic inclinations of a northern elephant seal, an animal that mates and then skates.
But I really don’t care. I’m leaving Cherry Valley, and I’m done with jerks.
Chapter 4
Barry
I can smell the stale beer on the cold air before I even get to the door of the Footloose Saloon for Penny Bur
nett’s going away party. The bar is on the farming side of Cherry Valley, and even in a bumfuck nowhere town, the Footloose seems even more like it’s in its own dusty world. I’m sorry to report that the bar even has a cheesy planked boardwalk and a hitching post outside, and I expect I’ll be spending the evening stepping on peanut shells.
And as I open the door … yup. Thank God I don’t have a peanut allergy, for fuck’s sake.
The shells crunch under my sneakers as I come to stand in the doorway. Everything is cowboy hats, twangy music, pictures of country music singers next to the guitars on the walls, and pink neon. People are already on the dance floor, and among the crowd I see some of the customers who frequent Screaming Beans. I don’t know many of them very well, except for Abby Peters and also Miss Carney, who rented Zach and me rooms in her old Victorian house before we found our own places. Then I spot Zach near the dance floor with Mandy.
As some dancers yee-haw along with the lyrics to the song they’re clomping along to, I gird myself. I’m only here because I promised Zach I’d make an appearance. I’ll just pretend to have fun, talk to a few people, put on a shiny happy Full Circle Technologies face, then get the hell out of here and off to Marloe, where I’ll be meeting Tami, a hot chick with low expectations.
Zach and Mandy see me, and he impatiently waves me over.
“You’re late,” he says when I get to him. He shoves a beer into my hand.
The first and only time I visited this pit, I discovered that there were only about three beers on the handwritten wooden menu board, and one of them is in my hand right now. Beer is balls unless it’s from a craft brewery, so I shove the piss-colored stuff right back at Zach. Mandy widens her eyes at me right before I meander away from them and toward the bar. Maybe this place has a secret menu that I can talk the bartender into revealing, just like at a few establishments back in the Bay Area. Could happen.
I walk through the crowd, barely acknowledging all the cowpokes I pass, then belly up to the bar, where a bunch of silver-buckle-and-boot types are milling around. When I check out the bottles lined up behind the bar to see if maybe, just maybe, they might have some premium liquor, I’m out of luck. Naturally, everything is bottom-shelf crap, so after I ask the tough-girl bartender about a secret menu and she stares at me with her thick, evil eyeliner, I order my default drink — Jack and Coke. It’s what I usually ended up drinking at the hayseed places I used to visit on business before Zach and I got FCT going.
A voice from behind me rises above the fuckin’-and-truckin’ song that’s currently playing. “A Jack and Coke? Really?”
It sounds like a girl, so I turn around to see who it is, even though I never expect much these days. But when I get a load of Penny, something growls through my veins.
She does not look bad at all. Big Sister has upped her fashion game, wearing the red version of a little black dress, and her tits … damn. She’s truly got a beautiful pair of them. She’s also got sweetly curved hips, a flat stomach, and legs that look even longer than they did the other day, thanks to the pair of heels she’s wearing. They’re slingbacks with bows at the ankles, and Daddy likes. She’s also put her hair up in a spiky bun that’s held in place by two chopsticks, and her lipstick is as red as her dress.
I didn’t think much of her the other day, but tonight? Yeah. I’m thinking a lot more about her. I’m feeling it, too, as my blood gets a little hotter with every hard beat of the music.
Then I realize she said something about Jack and cock … er, Coke. That’s it. She asked about the drink I ordered, and I’ve been too busy getting a hard-on to answer.
I swallow, then say, “Jack and Coke’s not exactly what I want, but it’ll do.”
“And what would you prefer?” she asks over the music.
I remind myself that this is Mandy’s sister. Zach’s future sister-in-law. They’d both kill me if I said I’d prefer to see what’s under that dress of hers, so I don’t. “Some premium vodka would be nice.”
“Just like you’d get in the city.” She shrugs with a bit of exaggeration, and I wonder if she’s had a head start with the drinking. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It’s all swill that’ll poison your liver.”
A few people to my right toast Penny with congratulations for her new job, then slip off their barstools to go to the dance floor. She walks past me to take a seat, and I catch a hint of coconut in the air. For a second, I’m utterly taken with the scent, because it’s exotic, and kind of different, just like Penny wants to be. At least from the little I know about her.
When the bartender sets my lame drink in front of me, I slide my black credit card onto the bar to start a tab, then sit on the stool next to Penny. There’re worse ways to spend time at this party before I go to Marloe to see Tami with an “i.”
The bartender returns right away with a drink for Penny — a tall glass of something more red than brown that has some fizz to it.
“That doesn’t look like any of the weak beer on the menu,” I say.
“It’s not beer.” She takes a drink, then sets the glass down on the bar just like she’s a lady imbibing from something with an umbrella in it. Yeah, she’s definitely had some nips from the alcoholic teat before I got here. “It’s cherry cider. Local.”
“Local?” I chuff. “Talk about toxic.”
She looks at me, and even though the lights are neon and dim, I realize that her big eyes aren’t just blue, there’s a lot of green in them, too. My gut heats up again.
Zach would kill you slowly and methodically, I think.
Penny pushes her cider over to me.
“What?” I say.
“You what. Mandy says you’re always bitching to Zach about Cherry Valley, and as much as I want to get out of here, there’re some decent things about this town. This cider is one of them. There’s a brewery between here and the mountains, and you should give their stuff a try.”
I chuff again.
“My God, you are a fussy prince, aren’t you?” Penny smacks the bar. “Quit being a royal baby about it and take a drink. It’s not like I have cooties.”
I can think of much better ways to get cooties from her than drinking from the same glass, but she called me a baby, and when a man gets called something like that, the moment can’t go unchallenged. Of course, I’ve been called much worse, going way back to when I used to get the snot beat out of me for talking back to kids who were bigger and stronger than me. But I’ve never walked away from any challenge. So I drink.
Under the neon lights, Penny watches me as the flavors roll around in my mouth — fruity but not sweet, surprisingly good, kind of like the cherry pie that made me think I could at least survive this town for FCT’s sake.
Penny’s big, pretty eyes are glowing as she leans closer to me. “Well?”
I get another whiff of coconut from her. I even get a better look at the coconuts in the front of her dress, now on better display because of the way she’s tilting toward me. My cock wakes up yet again and stays awake.
“My verdict?” I tell her with some grit in my voice. “Meh.”
“Meh?” She shoves my arm and laughs. “You are such a liar. I can tell you liked it.”
As she smiles up at me, I don’t know whether I should be fearful that she saw right through me or if I should be happy that there’s one person in Cherry Valley who doesn’t care if I’m difficult. She could’ve ignored me entirely tonight based on how I didn’t exactly encourage a lasting friendship at Screaming Beans, but she’s here at the bar with me now, and I’m actually smiling back at her.
Both of us seem to realize at the same time that we shouldn’t get too friendly, and I clear my throat, then take a long sip of my drink. She does the same.
I stamp my glass down on the bar. “Tell me more about your new job.” It’s a natural enough way to talk to her — like we’re two people who are playing nice because of Zach and Mandy. “You’ll be working in HR at a Chicago software firm. Which one?”
She prou
dly straightens in her seat. “WayvComm.”
A red flag goes up. I know the company, and it’s a small firm with a reputation for having shitty leadership.
But she’s as fizzy as her drink. “I connected with someone who works there on a professional woman’s board online, and they’re making an effort to recruit women. Isn’t that great? I was lucky to find this opportunity, especially since they don’t seem to mind that I’ve had only a couple of years at community college. I mean, I’ve had lots of experience in my shop, but they said they’d like to ‘mold’ me and that my experience as a business owner was appealing. There’s a lot more career mobility there than in Cherry Valley, and it was really the only job that made sense when I was looking around, so I went for it.”
The red flags are popping up with alarming speed.
She must see the wariness in the way I’m hunching over my drink now, because her enthusiasm mellows. “My parents are on my case because they say that the pay isn’t as good as what I made at the curio shop, even though the benefits at WayvComm should make up for that. They pointed out that, since more tourists have been coming to town, the business has been getting better, but …” She sighs. “There’s got to be something more exciting out there than The Curio Cupboard and Cherry Valley. Know what I mean? I might not know exactly what I want out of life at this point — I’m still only twenty-seven, and I’ll start worrying about that when I’m thirty — but I need to experiment. I refuse to waste away here.”
“You said your parents aren’t on board with this move?” Maybe they can talk her out of this, because my business instincts are screaming now. What kind of serious firm hires someone for Human Resources with only the experience Penny has?
She lifts her chin, as if she senses my doubts. “Mom and Dad are as skittish as they always are whenever I try something new, so they decided to throw their own goodbye dinner for me next week before I leave.”
“They’re not even here tonight?”
“They were … busy.”
I look at her, and she narrows her eyes at me.
