Last Call

by Michele G Miller

  "I'm going to freshen up and I'll be right there."

  "I'll wait for you."

  His concern was touching, and I softened my voice when I insisted he go. "Gage, I'm fine here. Go back before you get in trouble, and I’ll be there in just a minute."

  He waited until I opened the restroom door before turning to leave. I took a few moments to use the restroom and straighten my hair, and then I scrutinized my face in the mirror. There was a slight red spot where Jax had hit me, but it didn't look too horribly bad. I tried to cover up the redness with some powder as best as I could, and then touched up my lip gloss and left the restroom to walk back to the bar. Halfway there I stopped and stood; admiring my superhero of the night from afar.

  He was laughing at something a customer said while he took payment for some drinks. He wore his dark hair sticking straight up in a sort of messy spiked look that really suited him. It didn't look like it was sticky with product, but rather almost like he’d hung his head outside the car window and let it dry in the wind.

  When he noticed me standing to the side, he stopped mid-stride and smiled. I discovered that the smile he bestowed on his customers was nothing like the one he leveled on me. This one completely transformed his face. His eyes crinkled at the corners, and his dimple dug into his cheek. He was sex on a stick, and I was definitely hungry for a taste. He beckoned me over to the bar with a nod of his head.

  I glanced around. It looked like all of the stools were spoken for as he signaled me down to the end. I met him at the edge of the bar and he grinned and pulled a hidden stool out from behind him.

  "Impressive."

  "I try," he smirked as I sat. "You okay?"

  "Seriously Gage, I'm fine. Embarrassed, but fine."

  He observed the customers at his end of the bar and held up his hand. "Hold that thought." I followed his movements hungrily while he served drinks up to the crowd at the bar. He poured liquor from bottles with a practiced flair, and you could tell he was very secure in his bartending skills. There was a line behind the stools at the bar, and groups of people were hollering over one another to get their drinks. It was a packed night and suddenly I started to feel guilty about taking him away from the bar, and the tips, for so long with my personal drama.

  He kept a watchful eye on me as he worked, and it was comforting to see how much he cared about my well-being. At one point during the rush, he dropped off a glass of ice water and said, "Think of a song."

  "Any song?"

  "Mmmhmm. I'll be back for it." He winked.

  The cover band began to play a drinking song and the crowd went crazy. Seeing the carefree faces of my peers was like a slap in the face. It shouldn't be this hard for me to have fun. I felt defective.

  "You look moody. Got a song for me yet?"

  "Umm, no," I admitted. I couldn't name any of the songs about love gone wrong that were flying through my head. "I couldn't think of any."

  Gage laughed and bent down to pull some beer bottles out of the cooler in front of him. "Come on, Savannah. You've got to work with me here." He reached over the bar past my head and handed the bottles to someone over my shoulder. Cash was exchanged and I sat there as he leaned into my personal space. "Name a song, now."

  "Taylor Swift," I spat out automatically.

  "Ugh," he groaned, shaking his head. "Title?"

  The loathing in his voice was clear, and I found myself wildly entertained by the prospect of irritating him all of a sudden. "Well, how about my favorite song?" I lied playfully; the mock excitement oozing out of my posture.

  Evidently getting a kick out of my antics, he played along. "And what’s your favorite?"

  "How about ‘We are Never Getting Back Together’?"

  His eyes leveled on me for a moment. "How appropriate." I knew he was referring to Jax, and while part of me felt like he was inserting himself into something that was clearly none of his business, another part agreed with him wholeheartedly.

  He stepped away from me and worked his way down the bar again, and I waited earnestly to hear his plan for my song. I sipped the water he handed me and checked my phone while I sat there. On my Instagram feed was a picture of Sara kissing Chris' cheek outdoors somewhere. I smiled at the sweet pose and the happiness on my best friend’s face.

  "You wanna dance?"

  The voice came from a guy to my left and I lowered my phone to find a very broad-chested guy standing slightly behind me. He was one of those guys whose neck looked like the size of my thigh. He was built and obviously very proud of those muscles in his form fitting t-shirt.

  When I looked over at him, he repeated his invitation to dance. When I started to shake my head no, I was surprised to hear Gage shout over the bar, "Sorry mate, she's with me."

  "Hey man, my bad," Mr. Muscles apologized.

  I pursed my lips and gave Gage a questioning look. "And just how do you know I wasn't interested in dancing with him?"

  A bark of laughter was his reply. He was mixing a drink in front of me as he added, "What, Mr. I'm Too Sexy? Sweetheart, you'd never survive with a guy like him."

  Picking up his challenge I drawled out, "Ohhh really? Why do you think that?"

  "I'm pretty sure he was checking out his own reflection in the glass he was holding, honey. I don't think you could ever find a room large enough to fit you both into at the same time."

  "You don't even know him. How can you judge him like that?" I laughed.

  He placed the drink he made in front of me as he spoke again softly. "Just watch him. If he doesn't look in a mirror in the next three minutes, I'll buy you dinner."

  "What if he does?"

  "I'll buy you dinner anyway," he angled. Then dropping his husky voice he added, "You pick dessert."

  Oh lawd, there he went again. Making my knees go weak and the butterflies flutter in my stomach.

  "Game on," I agreed; my voice barely above a whisper. He always stole my breath away when he spoke like that. It didn't really matter what the outcome of the bet was, because if my wits were about me - and they rarely were where Gage was concerned - I was getting a dinner out of this bet, regardless.

  "And BAM," he hollered, calling attention to himself. I searched the room for muscle man and found him checking himself out in one of the mirrors on the wall leading to the restrooms. Gage was quite pleased with himself.

  Picking up my drink, I gracefully admitted defeat with a silent toast in his direction. A sly smile played on his lips for a moment before he was pulled away again. Checking my phone, I noted that it wasn't yet midnight and I was already exhausted. Thinking back to Gage's offer to give me a lift home, I inwardly cringed. The thought of staying here for another two hours to wait for him to get off work wasn't sitting well, so I decided to take things into my own hands and dialed for a cab.

  Swallowing down the last of the perfect Tom Collins Gage made for me, I tried to signal for his attention. The crowd at the bar was starting to die down as more and more half-drunk people were filtering to the dance floor.

  "Alright, I've finally found our ‘Never Getting Back Together’ couple," he crowed proudly. "Six o'clock, heated debate. Looks like someone is breaking up with someone."

  I focused on the couple he was talking about and sure enough, there was a poor guy begging some girl who looked like she’d had more than enough, to stay. From my vantage point I saw her shake her head no and try to walk away as he flailed his arms out wide and pointed to his chest. Guess I didn’t have the market cornered on romantic drama tonight.

  "And it looks like they are never, ever, ever getting back together," he drawled out slowly.

  "You really enjoy that, don't you?" The question popped out unexpectedly.

  "Seeing two people fight? Of course not."

  "No, I mean your little song game. I'm impressed with how well you peg people."

  "I told you it was a gift," he reminded me; leaning down on his elbows now that he had a free moment.

  "So what's my song?"


  "Oh, no way…can't give you a song yet, sweetheart."

  "No? Why not? Can't think of one?"

  Bzzzz Bzzzz Bzzzz

  I checked my phone to see a text from the cab company announcing they were outside waiting for me. My face went from smiling to frowning in 1.2 seconds.

  "Bad news?" he asked quickly.

  "What? No, it's just…I called a cab," I said, seeing the flicker of concern cross his face. "I'm tired,” I said, reaching into my purse for some cash. "Here."

  He refused the cash. Instead, he fixed his eyes on me and said, "Are you sure everything is okay? I was serious about taking you home."

  "Yeah, really I'm fine. I realized how long it was going to be before you could get out of here and I'm exhausted. Take the money - you can't keep giving me free alcohol," I insisted.

  "Sure I can. It'll keep you coming back to see me." He winked and then stepped back from the bar, adding, "It's all a part of my master plan."

  I was so tempted to stay and talk to him that I wanted to kick rocks and cry. What a crazy thought. I was almost ready to pull out my phone and tell the cabby to forget the call when the cougar from last week walked up and purred towards Gage.

  "My usual, gorgeous."

  Acknowledging her presence, he turned from me to make his way over to her. In that moment I was reminded of how many women sat there each night and drooled over him, and I wasn't about to become one of those girls. Even if he was sexy as all get out.

  He was writing on a small pad of paper as I got up and started to leave. I called out over my shoulder, "See ya Gage."

  "Hey, don't forget your receipt," he drawled, causing me to stop in my tracks. He held a small scrap of paper out for me to take; his brows raised in encouragement.

  "Um, thanks," I mumbled and took the paper from his hand.

  Walking slowly towards the door, I unfolded the paper and found the following:

  Your song, for now

  Let It Be Me, Ray LaMontagne

  P.S. - Here’s my number. Would you mind shooting me a text when you get in? I'd feel better knowing you got home alright. Please.

  My stomach dropped and I spun around to see what he was doing. He was standing over his little cougar much the same way he stood over me. The difference was he wasn't watching her as she chatted animatedly with him. As if he really was the superhero of my dream, he was using his laser vision to peer a hole straight through my soul.

  I knew the song, but for the life of me I couldn't remember the lyrics.

  We maintained eye contact from across the bar for a moment and I pulled the little note up to my chest and mouthed ‘Thank you’.

  When another employee walked up to him and diverted his attention from me, I pulled myself reluctantly from the bar.

  I rushed to the awaiting cab and quickly gave him my address. I brought the song up on my phone, but forced myself to wait until I got home to listen to it.

  Rushing into the house fifteen minutes later, I clicked play on my phone and closed my eyes. I listened to the words and looked for hidden meaning. The lyrics…oh my God. Did he truly mean them for me? What a gesture. Seriously, this was just a few notches above holding a boom box outside of my window, a la ‘Say Anything’. The thought caused tears to well up.

  "Well this changes things," I sniffed, on the precipice of tears. The note he’d written was clenched tightly in my fist as I entered his number and typed him a text like he’d asked. For once in my life I didn't stop and obsess about what to say. I quickly sent him the message:

  Me: i'm home. i can't thank you enough for tonight and for you saving me. you're my hero ;)

  A reply didn't come right away, and I assumed he was working at the bar and couldn't get to his phone. Making sure the front door was locked, I made my way to my room where I jumped in the shower quickly. I settled into my bed a little after one and had just flipped off my light when my phone went off. I jumped about five feet in the air as I grabbed my phone to find a reply text.

  THE Aussie: Thank you for letting me know you made it home. I hope I'll see you tomorrow…

  I started to formulate a reply when my phone buzzed again.

  THE Aussie: …preferably without a date.

  Me: i may drop by.

  I remained vague because I did have a date, but hated to admit it. The constant temptation to stop by The Garage was wearing on me. After tonight and his song choice for me, I knew I should just give up. I really didn't know what was stopping me anymore.

  Saturday - May 4, 2013

  Date #7 - R.L.

  Canceled

  I spent most of Saturday nursing a ridiculous headache from the tension of the night before. The entire scene with Jax didn't really hit me until I made it into my bed and realized how wrong I had been about him. I couldn't believe that I’d actually tried to cover for his drunk ass in the bar. I should have known better.

  I tried to wrangle out of my date for the night, but neither Sara nor Candace were having any part of that.

  Glancing at each other cryptically, they both kept making excuses for why I needed to go out.

  "You can't let one crappy night ruin the rest of these dates for you, Savannah." Candace emphatically shook her head at me as I tried to come up with excuses.

  "I really don't know if I can go back there, you guys. I feel so stupid after last night. I really don't know how to face Gage, and with another date to boot. He'll think I'm such an idiot," I bemoaned, throwing myself on the couch.

  "Savannah, the dude knocked a guy out cold." I opened one eye and looked at Sara standing over me. "For you," she added, her hands on her hips.

  Remembering the look of anger and concern on Gage's face the night before sent small waves of heat through my legs. I thought about the song he gave me. I listened to it on repeat half of the afternoon, my mind running wild with fantasies and ideas of what he was thinking when he picked that song.

  It was close to seven o’clock when I timidly walked into The Garage. For once, I felt almost shy at seeing my handsome superhero. Suddenly I was nervous as hell. I had unconsciously called Gage my superhero. I was walking into his bar to meet another date, and there I was calling him mine. "You are so messed up," I scolded myself as I looked around.

  "How's the cheek?" Gage startled me as he came up from behind and caused me to yelp.

  "Geez," I swore. I clutched my chest with one hand and used the table to my left to steady myself. I looked at Gage and the butterflies began to pound through my stomach.

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." His eyes searched my face, looking for any signs from last night’s dramatic smack down. When I’d awakened that morning there was a slight discoloration on my cheekbone, but thankfully, the painful bite of Jax's elbow didn't leave a big mark.

  "Nothing a little makeup couldn't fix," I answered, watching as the intensity of his stare faded. "How's your fist, Ali? I assume you know who Muhammad Ali is?"

  "Sweetheart I'm from Australia, not Mars." He looked offended, as if I had the audacity to question his manhood.

  "Ah yes, I forgot," I teased, starting to feel more at ease. The crowd was somewhat thin for a Saturday night and I finally noticed the bags he held at his side. His muscles twitched under the black tee that was his customary "uniform".

  "You doing some grocery shopping?"

  He stood there watching me for a moment and then lifted the bags up. "Yeah, I needed to make a run for some garnish. Couldn't run out of limes in case my favorite Tom Collins-ordering gal came in tonight." His flippant tone matched the cute grin on his lips as he walked past me and gently placed the bags on the counter. Noelle was behind the bar tonight and waved at me when I followed behind Gage.

  "Hey girl,” she called out. “I heard there was a slight commotion in the parking lot last night." Her eyes were wide, and she looked eager to devour any and all gossip I could give her.

  Sliding onto a bar stool, I tried to stay easy-breezy as I spoke. "Just a small misunderstanding, that's
all."

  "That's not what one of the bouncers said earlier."

  "Noelle," Gage interrupted, before I could respond; his voice deep, authoritative. "I doubt she wants to talk about it right now. Take these limes to the back and start prepping them."

  Noelle grabbed the bag of fruit and stalked to the back, quietly throwing a puzzled glance back at me. Gage rolled his neck from side to side, looking very annoyed before he returned his attention to me again.

  "I asked the guys to keep their mouths shut about last night. Evidently I’ll have to have a talk with them again."

  "It's not a problem. I know Noelle from school, so she probably thought I would fill her in. You don't have to protect me, you know. I'm a big girl."

  He smiled, his voice filled with sarcasm when he spoke. "You are, huh?"

  I shook my head in affirmation and swallowed whatever I was about to say when Gage lowered his head close to mine and leaned into me. His masculine scent tickled my nose; a tantalizing mix of tangy cologne and mints. His warm breath fanned over my cheek as he placed his lips next to my ear and spoke faintly.

  "I know you could have kicked his ass if you wanted to, but could you possibly let me believe what you said in your text?"

  My eyes began to droop closed at the ecstasy his soothing tone brought to me. Confused for a moment, I asked what he was referring to. My hand shot out of its own accord and gripped his upper arm. The heat radiating off of his skin instantly warmed my icy fingers.

  "You called me your hero last night," he murmured into my ear. Then he sighed; his breath causing a shiver to run down my neck. "I rather liked the thought of being your personal superhero. After all, you're turning into my own personal brand of kryptonite."

  He pulled back and lingered inches from my face for a moment before he straightened gently, prying my hand from his arm. His hand continued to hold mine for a few moments more, and he caressed my fingers gently before placing my hand on the bar top.