by Kilby Blades
“Oh, come on. I couldn’t pass on a chance to bring a movie star.”
“I told you about the article. What am I supposed to do now?”
“Come take pictures and post about us. It’ll be fun.”
Lauren’s jaw dropped. Was he really that clueless? How had she missed this?
“You bastard. You can fuck right off.”
“Lauren, don’t be like that…”
“Don’t be like what, Devin? You know what? Don’t answer that. I hope you enjoyed stabbing me in the back. You won’t get the opportunity again.”
“Lauren…”
Click. Who did he think he was to just toss her aside? Well, good riddance. She was better off without him. Except that her story was screwed. She was going to lose her opportunity, and who knew when Wendy would give her another chance.
Her anxiety was spiraling, and her mental chatter wasn’t helping. She needed her friends, and she needed them now. She walked to catch the Blue Line at North Avenue while texting her best friends, Alexis and Cash, on her way home to Wicker Park.
Lauren: Tonight. Mother Hubbard’s?
Alexis: What happened?
Lauren: Long story. Broke up with Devin. Job drama. Need you guys.
Cash: At work till 10. Meet you there?
Lauren: I’m buying.
She had five hours to kill. Yoga was only going to get her so far. She added take-out Thai to the list and a pedicure. A solo bottle of wine was damn tempting, but if she was going to Mother Hubbard, she’d better hold off. No one needed Black-out Betty to show up.
All she really needed were her friends to show up, and she knew they would. They always did.
It was 10:30 by the time Cassius Hendricks rolled into Mother Hubbard’s, exhausted and feet throbbing. The eight-top birthday party had decided to linger long past the check drop and the not-so-casual resetting of adjacent tables.
So instead of getting to run home, shower, and change, Cash was strolling into Mother’s on industry night, sweaty and smelling like the salmon special, still sporting his white button-down, black pants, and thick soled black gym shoes. At least he’d remembered to take off the stupid black bowtie before he’d left. Thankfully, in a room full of people who worked in hospitality and showed up for the cheap mid-week drinks, few would judge. Mother Hubbard’s was one of the few bars open till 4 that kept the kitchen running so everyone could eat after their gigs closed. It was also the unofficial hub of an underground network of service industry professionals.
All he wanted to do was go home, find his humanity again under a hot shower for about an hour or so, and work on his latest essay submission. But he’d told Lauren he’d be here, so here he was.
Cash nodded to the bouncer who let him in with a wave and scanned the rowdy pub for her trademark auburn ponytail. He found her cozied up with Alexis at the end of the bar, tucked up on the green vinyl barstools, coats draped over a third, presumably for him. Lauren rested her head on Alexis’ shoulder and was leaning into some serious head patting.
Oh Lord, how long had they been here?
Wading through the crowd of people enjoying drunken flirtations and some aggressive drowning of sorrows, Cash dropped onto the open stool.
“Hello, ladies. Did I miss the airing of grievances? I got a couple more rejection letters to throw on the pile.”
“Cash! You’re here.” Lauren shot him a watery smile.
“She’s almost done with the wallowing portion of the break-up.” Alexis smiled tolerantly and sipped her red wine.
“Then I’m in time for the bitter mocking! Excellent. That’s my favorite.” Cash waved to Mickey, the bartender nearest, for a gin and tonic.
“I thought righteous anger was your favorite,” Alexis teased.
“I have many favorites. Why should I limit myself?” He raised his glass in mock toast. “To Douchecanoe Devin, the Brocialite Ball-Ass-ter Bastard. Sure he’s got plenty of Mommy’s money to throw around, but he’s clearly compensating.” Cash wiggled his eyebrows and crooked his pinky finger at Lauren, trying to tease a smile to her plush rosy lips. “I really thought you’d have learned that lesson from Flaccid Phil sophomore year, but sometimes we need to make a mistake more than once.”
“You’re one to talk,” Alexis muttered into her wine glass. Cash shot her a glare and kept razzing Lauren’s ex.
“I’ve never met someone so self-centered. I’ll be he slept with his phone so he’d never miss an alert. Did he Instagram while you guys made out?”
Lauren choked on her lemon drop with a laugh, and Cash guessed he’d gotten close. He really hadn’t liked this guy. She was better off without him.
“Where are we on Lauren’s drunk-o-meter?” he asked Alexis.
The drunk-o-meter was a scale they’d developed in college. They each had their own benchmarks, but Lauren’s was particularly reliable. Each drink moved her one rung higher on the ladder. She was usually content to hover between Buzzed Brittany (just loose enough for sexy dancing) and Tipsy Tina (still fun to dance with but slightly more balance challenged). Only once had she gone full Puking Patti and Black-out Betty. Luckily, he’d showed up late for that party and had gotten her home safely.
“I’d say she’s working her way up to Love You Lucy. No sign of Evil Emily yet. She’s had two lemon drops since we got here.”
“I didn’t have anything before, because I knew I was coming out with you two. I can always count on you guys. I love you so much.” Tears welled up in Lauren’s blue eyes, and Cash grinned.
“We love you too, Lucy,” he teased.
“No, for real. Every fuck-up, every break-up, you guys have my back, and I just want you to know I appreciate it.” She dropped her head on Cash’s shoulder this time, and he resisted the urge to press a kiss to her hair. He fell back on his humor, trying to joke her out of her mood. He had a well-established role as the jokester of their trio, and he wouldn’t let her down despite feeling a bit bruised himself.
“About that… If you could see your way to fewer breakups, my liver would thank you.”
Lauren punched Cash in the arm, but she grinned while she did it, and his heart buzzed in his chest. Her smiles didn’t used to make his anatomy do odd things, but lately that had changed and he didn’t know how to handle it. So far ignoring his impulses was working, but how long could he keep that up? And what would happen if he slipped up?
“Give her a break. You’ve got to date a lot of losers before you find the winner. Who knows? He could be right in front of you. He could be in this very bar tonight!” Alexis teased and gestured wildly. Cash glared at her through his G&T glass.
Thanks to his own drunken ramblings one night, Alexis knew that he’d started having “more-than-friends” feelings for Lauren. That same night, Alexis had let it slip that she had a thing for the girl who worked at the Exchange with her. Now that Lex had come out and had been dating that girl Bree for nearly a year, her secret had lost its power. His had not.
For as long as he’d known Lauren, he’d liked her. Their little trio had formed during a freshman year critique group, had solidified over movie marathons at the campus theater, and had survived the transition to adulting and countless terrible karaoke nights.
They were inseparable. Lauren had dated guys pretty consistently throughout college, and it had never bothered him. They came and went, and their trio remained unfazed. But in the last year, he’d come to the troubling realization that he like liked her. And in a much more grown-up way than the third grade distinction implied. He had fallen for his best friend and was terrified.
Alexis was the calm voice of reason for the group, he was the joker, but Lauren was the dreamer, the optimist. When he’d drummed up the courage to share some of his writing during that critique class, she’d encouraged him to keep going. When he toyed with dropping his English degree to pursue business, she’d smacked him upside the head and told him not to waste his talent. He knew how rare it was to find that one person who believed in hi
s dreams as much as he did, if not more so. He wasn’t going to mess that up by kissing her. Even though he really wanted to kiss her.
“I’m taking a break from men. Clearly, I need some perspective if I was ready to move in with Devin. Why did I think that was a good idea? The fact that I’m more upset about my job than breaking up is a sign.” She paused to take a sip of the fresh lemon drop Mickey had just set in front of her. “No more men. I’m going to focus on saving my career.”
“Whoa, back up. You said, job drama. Why does your career need saving? I thought you were happy running the social media for the magazine, even though Wendy doesn’t understand half of what you do.” Cash toyed with the lime in his drink, trying to piece together the rest of the story that hadn’t been in her texts.
“She really doesn’t. I mean I took her from five hundred local followers to six figures worldwide on Insta alone! I am damn good at my job, but you know I want to write, too. Well, Wendy finally gave me a chance. I was supposed to photo document my Valentine’s Date for the IG account, kind of a deep POV millennial take on love in the big city, and then do a full feature article to run on the fifteenth.”
“That’s great, babe!” Alexis raised her wine glass in a toast. Lauren raised her fresh lemon drop in response, spilling half of it out the side of the martini glass.
“Easy there, Sloppy Sarah.” Cash muttered as he ineffectually wiped down the bar in front of her with a tiny square napkin before she could put her elbow in it.
“Creckshun,” Lauren slurred. “It was great. Fancy dinner, stroll through Millennium Park, The Healthy Hearts fundraiser ball at the Peninsula. I mapped it all out, made all the reservations, got it all approved.”
“So? You can still go. All you have to do is post convincing pictures. Hell, half of Insta is photoshopped anyhow.” Cash wanted to run a hand down her back to console her. But her shirt bared top half of her torso, and he was afraid that touching her skin, even innocently, would unlock a new level of hellish awareness he’d have to pretend to ignore. God, repressing all these feelings was exhausting.
“I made all the reservations in his name and sent him all the details. That bastard cancelled them all. I’m sure the table is gone, and he’s going to use the tickets to the ball on her.” Tears threatened again.
“I repeat, that bastard.” Cash muttered.
“All men are bastards. You should switch teams. We’d love to have you,” Alexis teased.
“Hey, easy there. The non-bastard man at the table thinks you shouldn’t do anything hasty.” Cash scanned the darkened sports bar, mulling over details of a plan coming together in his mind. The decor at Hubbard’s wasn’t winning any awards. Dark floors, slightly sticky green and white checkered vinyl tablecloths, and big screen TVs vying with beer signs for wall space, it was a classic Chicago dive bar. No one came for the ambiance. They came for the big games, the cheap booze, and the people. Narrowing his eyes on his target, he nodded to Alexis.
“I’ve got an idea. See if you can’t get her up to Evil Emily while I’m gone. She’s gonna need her courage.” He turned to the bartender. “Hey, Mickey, can I get another G&T and a Macallan neat?”
The beauty of industry night at Mother Hubbard’s wasn’t just the discounted drinks. This was the place to make connections within the hospitality community and get shit done.
Need to take your girl out somewhere special for her birthday that you forgot about? Tap a hostess for help. Want to park downtown for Lolla? Make friends with a valet. Interested in the hot new bar? Odds were good that bartender was buying his drinks at Hubbard’s. And Cash intended to tap that network tonight.
“Whuzzat you’re planning?” Lauren asked, eyes watery and consonants shaky.
“Trust me,” he teased.
“Always,” she whispered soulfully, and he wished like hell he had the right to lean in and kiss her worries away.
With the fresh drinks in his hand, he made his way back to the pool tables where his quarry was racking a fresh game.
“Hey, D! What’s up?” he greeted the tall skinny man currently chalking his pool cue who drank Scotch like water.
”Hey, Cash. You want in on a game? I’m taking quarters.”
“Nah, I’ve got a Macallan with your name on it and a favor to ask.”
“No, I can’t get you an hourly rate. It’s the motherfuckin’ Peninsula, dude.”
“Funny. Is there any way you could sneak me and a friend into the charity ball on V Day?”
“She a friend or a friend?” Dwayne took the whisky from Cash and winked.
This was it. She was single and in need of a hero. This was his moment to shine. “Depends on your answer to the question.”
Dwayne took a sip and rolled it around his mouth, before breaking into a grin.
“Anything to get a brother laid.”
“Knew I could count on you. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
He made his way back to his two best friends in the world, determined to change that status quo once and for all. If he wasn’t too chicken-shit to go after what he wanted… Dear God, don’t let me blow this.
“How we doing? Is she feeling brave yet? Because I’ve got a plan.”
Cash kept half an eye on the door while he served his tables full of couples in various stages of love. He had the full gamut from newly dating and still awkward with it to married 50 years and content. It was Valentine’s Day, the second busiest night of the year in the restaurant business, and he stood to quadruple his tips tonight. He only had to work the early seating, each table was a two-top and everything was prix fixe, so it was relatively easy to keep his attention split between his diners and the door. She was coming, and he couldn’t wait.
As he reached down to clear a soup bowl, he glanced up at the door. There she was. He was damn lucky that the lobster bisque was irresistible, because the bowl was empty when his fingers went limp. He bobbled it before catching it. Stunning in a dark cranberry lace sheath, every curve he shouldn’t notice highlighted, her skin seemed to glow through the dress. She took his breath away. How she could look at him and not see all of the needs that battered him?
But she hadn’t. And honestly why would she? What did he have to attract her? An apartment he split with three smelly dudes? A dead-end job waiting tables while he waited for someone to want his writing? Piles of student debt? Yeah, it was no wonder she’d never looked in his direction.
Some days he thought about running away, leaving the city and all of its struggles behind, moving to the middle of nowhere to pursue his writing in peace. And then there were days like today, when he took one look at her and realized, even if they never became more than friends, there was nowhere in the world he’d rather be. He’d miss her smile, and her goofy laugh, and the way she always encouraged him to chase his dreams if he left. Hell, without her encouraging him, he knew those dreams would quickly wither and fade. And that wasn’t a world he wanted to live in. He had to find his courage.
He handed the dirty dishes off to a back-waiter, and strode towards the hostess stand. This was his chance. She needed him, and he was going to prove himself worthy.
“Right this way, Miss Sykes.” Lauren looked up from where the hostess was checking her lists to see her best friend striding towards her. Cash put a hand to her elbow and led her away quickly. Under his breath, he added, “You don’t have a reservation.”
“What?” Lauren hissed. “I thought you said you could get us into your restaurant today.”
“I said I could get you in and in you are. Looking stunning, by the way.”
“I sense a but coming.” Lauren crossed her arms in front of her, and Cash tripped over the carpet. He wasn’t usually clumsy, but he seemed a bit flustered. Had her favor put him in a bad spot?
“But we’ve been booked solid for weeks, so you can sit at an empty table and take your photos until the 5:30 reservations show up.”
“What about dinner?”
“Don’t worry. I’ll feed you.”
Lauren took a deep breath. Cash was right. All she really needed was the picture, and he was doing her a huge favor. True, she’d been imagining how their date might go down since he’d suggested it. They’d hung out one-on-one more often since Alexis and Bree had gotten serious, but this dinner would have been a first.
Tamping down her disappointment, she smiled. As she’d hoped, his own smile rose in answer. She loved making him smile. His bright white teeth contrasted against his brown skin, and his whole face glowed with it. His smile went all the way up to his eyes, making them crinkle in the corners. And when he really got going, a dimple came out to play. There was just something about a guy and a dimple that got to her.
Wait, this was Cash. She shouldn’t be thinking about her best friend’s dimple. All of that date talk must’ve gone to her head.
Pictures. The favor. Focus, Sykes. Eyes on the prize.
“Lead the way.”
Cash took her into the back dining room, all dark paneling and dim lighting. Every table had a bud vase with two red roses. She didn’t want to think about how expensive that was to pull off on Valentine’s Day. Then she looked at the price on the prix fixe menu and ceased worrying about the owner’s bottom line. The restaurant was going to do just fine tonight, and hopefully some of that would trickle down to Cash.
More than half of the tables were already occupied by couples making mooney eyes at each other over their wine and first courses. Cash seated her at the corner table, which gave her a great view of the room and excellent lighting.
“You’ve got about fifteen minutes before the couple for this table arrives.”
“Got it,” she replied to thin air. Cash was already hustling into the kitchen, likely to deliver more courses to his tables. That boy was always hustling. It was a shame that he couldn’t catch a break. His essays and poems were so damn good. She’d been in awe of his voice since that first class together, and she couldn’t understand why he was still unpublished. He’d been submitting to different publications since they’d graduated, trying to build a reputation while he worked on his first book. All while waiting tables full time and being an excellent friend. She’d never met anyone who could match his work ethic. Except maybe herself.
