A pretty blonde and a pretty brunette were sitting to my right. They’d giggled and glanced in my direction for the past half hour. I smiled when they caught my eye. This was just like my days in college. Maybe the failed dates earlier this summer were because I’d been set up on them—not actually chosen one for myself. I fished around in the bank of pick-up lines I had heard friends use over the years, and was coming up empty.
~~ “Did it hurt?… When you fell from heaven?”
~~ “Is your dad a thief? … Because he stole the stars from the skies and put them in your eyes.”
~~ “What’s your sign?”
~~ And the one that got my old buddy from college a vodka bath… “I love every bone in your body… especially mine.”
In the end, I didn’t have to worry about it because just as I was about to get up and walk over to the girls, chairs scraped behind me and shouts erupted. I casually turned to look. A regular looking guy, wearing a regular button down, was nose-to-nose with a brute of a guy. Well, maybe the regular looking guy wasn’t so regular. He seemed very put-together, well-groomed and well toned, like he worked out every day, in fact.
The brute of a guy, who reminded me of Bluto from the Popeye cartoons I used to watch when I was growing up, said, “Is that right?” his voice dripping with sarcasm, egging on a fight.
If there were any chatter going on in the bar, it had all stopped at that moment.
“I don’t want any trouble, but yeah,” the regular guy said, pushing in just an inch. Was “Regular Guy” nuts? “Bluto” could easily take him. “Bluto” was definitely bigger than “Regular Guy”.
Apparently, that was the wrong thing for Regular Guy to say or do because Bluto lost it. He delivered a swift fist into Regular Guy’s gut. No idea, why, but Regular Guy, who looked like he could clearly defend himself, at least somewhat, stood and took it, while Bluto then clocked Regular Guy with a left fist to Regular Guy’s face, then a leg sweep, knocking Regular Guy to the ground.
Under any normal day, I probably would have turned my back on it all and continued to suck on my T&T, and keep trying to come up with a good pick up line, but somehow, seeing a man who could easily defend himself allow a clearly over-testosteroned man, to beat him for no good reason, I was incensed.
I nodded to Jennifer, who was already reaching for the phone, probably to call the authorities, and I went to … butt in?
“Seriously? What gives?” I said, stepping up to Bluto, my own bar stool falling over behind me when I stood.
“You stepping up for this pretty boy?” he asked, stopping his assault on Regular Guy, who was trying to regain his footing.
“And if I am?” I asked, pushing up my sleeves. I’ve never been much of a fighter, and apparently if you ask my wife, my ex-wife, you’ll get the same answer, but something about this scenario really ruffled my feathers. I had been in a few fights back in my day…like twenty-five years ago…when my one of my sisters, who was in high school, had her dignity called into question. I had gone to the school and knocked the guy out cold. I knew that today’s situation was different, on many levels, but I was similarly feeling the need to defend. I might get the shit kicked out of me, but it had to feel better than the one man pity party I was holding for myself.
“This guy,” Bluto asked, pointing at Regular Guy, who had a bloody nose. “You’re rolling up your sleeves for him?”
I looked at Bluto, coolly, and nodded solemnly.
“So you’re also a—”
Thankfully, at that moment, Napa’s finest burst in, quickly assessed the situation, and walked up to Bluto. Officer Number One looked at Jennifer, who nodded, and the next moment, Officer Number Two was cuffing Bluto and escorting a belligerent man outside while reading him his rights.
Regular Guy swiped at his nose with the back of his left hand, and checked out the blood. I grabbed a short stack of beverage napkins near me, and the glass of water Jennifer insisted on serving with my T&T, even though I never drank from it, and went over to Regular Guy.
“Here,” I said, shoving my collection at him. “Better than your sleeve.”
He looked at me with his bright blue eyes, and half-smiled. “Thanks.”
He took the water and napkins and sat back at his table, a table for one. He dipped a couple napkins into the water and pressed them to his nose. He glanced at me sideways.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked.
“Yeah. Not new to punches to the face.”
“You don’t look the fighter type,” I shrugged.
“Oh, well, I’m not a fighter,” he laughed, “but things can get brutal on the field. And it’s usually a red card from an elbow or a kick to the leg, but same effect.”
I had no idea what in the hell he was talking about. I must have looked incredibly confused, because he continued. “Sorry. Soccer. Currently Chicago Smoke forward. Soon to be Sonoma County Conquistadors assistant manager. Tanner Williams,” he said sticking out his right hand, the one without blood on it.
“Nice to meet you. Greg Fairchild.” We shook.
“Have a seat,” Tanner offered, gesturing toward one of the three empty chairs.
“Oh, I don’t want to impose if you’re waiting for someone,” I said.
“Nah…wasn’t waiting for anyone. Just didn’t feel like bellying up to the bar,” he said.
I looked around, and everyone had gone back to their own little worlds. Back at the bar, the girls had left. Without anything better to do, I shrugged, grabbed what was left of my drink from where I was sitting, and took a seat opposite Tanner.
“So, what was the fight about?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Do some guys need a reason? He’s an idiot. I called him on it,” Tanner shrugged, flashing a boyish grin.
We spent the next couple of hours shooting the shit about local sports, but mostly soccer. I was embarrassed to admit that I never watched much of the sport, and was only vaguely aware of the team. Tanner wasn’t surprised since soccer was still trying to gain a footing in the country, and thanks to the Los Angeles Galaxy team signing David Beckham a few years back, the sport was gaining popularity. Tanner recently announced his retirement as a player from the Chicago Smoke, and had been hired by the Sonoma County Conquistadors, a new expansion team in one of the professional soccer leagues in California, as their assistant manager. Also, while he was in the Chicago area, he’d spent a lot of time volunteering with youth soccer leagues running clinics and encouraging them. Something he was hoping to continue when he moved to Northern California. My job and life were seriously bland by comparison. Financial profiles and balance sheets. Maybe I needed to start volunteering somewhere. Hell, I had the time now.
Tanner had a slight accent, and every time I thought I had heard it, it disappeared. I would have asked him about it, but that would have seemed weird, right? Maybe it was a Chicago accent, but not exactly.
Tanner was in the area, in between games, house hunting. He would be moving to California as soon as the season was over for Conquistador try-outs and the new club’s inaugural season. He’d seen a few places today, but none hit the mark. He was surprised with how the market here differed from things in the Chicago area. He thought that the real estate market would be more affordable here, as compared to his downtown high rise condo, but it was about the same.
Tanner asked for my business card, saying that he could use someone with services like mine when he moved to the area, so I gave him my card and told him to call my secretary and set up an appointment.
“Well, I should call it a night,” I said, glancing at my watch and shocked to realize it was already ten-thirty. Then again, Tanner and I had finished off several plates of appetizers and a few drinks. I waved at Jennifer who nodded and went about putting together our tab.
“Wife at home?” he asked.
I don’t know why, but I laughed. “No. No wife. Just an early morning,” I said, reaching for my wallet as Jennifer dropped the check folder.
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Tanner also reached for his wallet, “I got this, man. It’s the least I can do for you saving my ass earlier,” Oh yeah, that.
“It’s okay, I—”
“I insist,” Tanner said, looking at me pointedly.
“If you insist,” I had no problem paying my way, and what did I really do to save his ass from Bluto? The cops were here before it got really bad. Right?
We said our goodbyes and Tanner said he’d call me in the next day or two about setting up a meeting. The whole drive home I kept thinking about how it had been nice meeting Tanner, that he’d seemed like a stand-up guy and it was nice to meet someone new. That Tanner was a professional athlete was cool. I’d ever known anyone remotely famous. And it was especially good meeting someone who didn’t know about my past with Elizabeth. Of course, I loved hanging out with my regular group of friends, but things just seemed awkward now that Elizabeth had moved on. My best friend Jim was married to Elizabeth’s best friend Jessica, both of whom stood up at our wedding. Ana and Marc, friends of ours who ran a local vineyard, were great people but they had been Elizabeth’s friends before they were mine. Of course my business partner Aaron and his wife knew Elizabeth well. And all of my friends were… married. Even those who had been divorced, were married again.
CHAPTER 2
The next day at work, things were like any other, digging into files, and reports requested from clients, but I couldn’t help wondering if Tanner was going to call and set up an appointment. I had never really cared about getting new clients. Our business always boasted a steady stream of work with old and new clients alike. But lately, I’d craved new clients. New clients kept me busy. New clients kept my mind off of how my life had been turned on its head over the past few months.
For the twentieth time or so, I pulled up the online calendar that Morgan managed for me and scanned the next days. Nothing new. I closed the calendar app and tried to focus on the files in front of me.
I was ready to call it a night, probably head to the bar like I had every night for the past while, when Morgan buzzed the office line to tell me I had a new client on the phone, but the person couldn’t meet until later in the day tomorrow, like four-thirty or so, and asked if that would be fine.
“Who’s the client?” I interrupted, nervous energy beating on my chest.
“His name is Tanner Williams. He says he met you yesterday. He’s kind of limited with time, and—”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s fine,” I quickly replied. “Four-thirty. That’s good.”
“Okay, thank you. I’ll schedule it,” Morgan said and disconnected the intercom.
I sat back and smiled. He called. Cool. Why did I care? I quickly got up and poured a gin and tonic, toasted myself for a job well done that I’d gotten a new client. But why did it matter? I asked myself as I looked at my desk piled with a dozen active files, both old and new clients. It didn’t make sense, but then again, nothing made sense these days. I reasoned that I was looking forward to making a new friend… a new single friend. All of my friends were married and did married things, talked married things, and planned married things. Tanner was single, into sports, and didn’t have the ‘old ball-and-chain’ planning his days. And maybe Tanner could teach me about being a single guy in this day and age.
Wednesday, I made it to work with a smile on my face. I felt good. It was a clear headed day. Last night I’d skipped on stopping at the bar for my nightly, three-hour sulk fest and pity-party. Instead, I’d gone home, and picked up some Chinese take-out on the way. I watched the San Francisco Giants get their asses handed to them by the Pittsburgh Pirates with a six run loss, ending the game two to eight. Typically, a Giants loss like that would have pissed me off to no end, but I let it roll off me, and got to bed at a reasonable hour, and not passing out from booze, but actually going to bed.
I eagerly plugged away on files all day and when I noticed that it was four o’clock, I busied myself with clearing my desk of files and tiding up my office. At about four-forty, Morgan buzzed my desk to tell me that “Mr. Williams is here for his four-thirty.” I checked my reflection to make sure I didn’t look frazzled, and strode out to the lobby to meet him.
“Tanner, good to see you,” I said sticking my hand out, which Tanner took, and we shook. “Come on back,” I said leading him to my office behind Morgan’s desk.
“Good to see you, as well. Sorry I’m late, but that last house I looked at…well, I think I found a winner.”
“That’s great,” I said closing the door behind him and offering him a chair, and I headed to the wet bar. “Can I get you a drink? Water? Soda? Something harder?” I pulled a water bottle out for myself and cracked it open.
“Water’s great,” Tanner said, and I pulled out a second bottle and handed it to him before I took a seat.
I noticed a bruise on Tanner’s right cheek “Ouch. You okay?”
“What this?” he asked touching his cheek. “Oh yeah. This gem is from Bluto,” Tanner laughed, using the nickname I’d given the guy that decked Tanner the other night when we’d met.
We quickly got down to business and talked more in depth about his current situation, sources of income, and what his goals were. His salary was impressive considering the sport he played wasn’t the most popular. He had a rented home in the downtown Napa area as he looked for a home to buy, and for his frequent trips out this way to meet with USL, United Soccer League, people as the Sonoma County Conquistadors Football Club got solidly established. We discussed allocation strategies and his tolerance for risk, what he needed for living funds, retirement funds, and what was needed for his youth outreach plans.
Finally I had what I felt was a clear vision of Tanner’s needs and so on. I looked up and saw that it was already six o’clock. My stomach groaned its disagreement with having skipped lunch so that I was ready when Tanner came for his appointment.
“Sorry it’s so late. Can I take you to dinner? Your secretary said you don’t usually take clients this late in the day. Now I can see why.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” I said shaking my head.
“No, I know I don’t have to. I want to. It’s not like I know anyone else in town. Kinda boring night after night here alone.”
I felt a little sorry for the guy, and I could totally identify with the loneliness night after night.
“Sure. What are you in the mood for?”
“I’m easy,” he said. “Wait. That sounded bad,” he rushed. It took me a second to realize what he said… that he was ‘easy.’ I started to laugh. “I just meant that, I’m not formal or anything like that. I’m casual. God, that sounds almost as bad!”
My restrained laughter burst out and we were both started laughing so hard, that I practically had tears running down my face.
“Thanks for the laugh. It’s been a while since I laughed so hard.”
An hour and half later, I pulled into Fat Joey’s, the best burger place in town. I’d stopped at home to change out of my business clothes and into jeans, since Fat Joey’s wasn’t a slacks and tie kind of place. Tanner was going to stop at his place and take care of a couple loose ends for the realtor in the event the offer he submitted on the house was accepted, and was going to meet me there. When I walked in, I quickly found Tanner at a booth that had a perfect view of the big screen TV broadcasting the Giants game.
“Hope you don’t mind, but I’m really hoping the Giants can redeem themselves after last night’s game,” he said, shaking his head.
“Tell me about it. Did you see that game? Downright depressing,” I agreed.
Dinner was good. The burgers were juicy, the beer was cold, and the conversation, mostly about sports and a little about the house he put an offer on, was easy. The game on the other hand…another loss. Regardless, I really liked hanging out with Tanner. He was intense yet relaxed, and he had a great laugh that was infectious. It felt great to laugh again. He didn’t ask, and I didn’t volunteer, any information about my ex. I returned the f
avor by not prying into his past relationships. It wasn’t any of my business anyway.
After the game ended, we split the check and each paid half. As we headed out into the cool night and as I headed toward my car, I looked up and noted that it was very overcast, and smelled like rain.
“Where’s your car?” I asked.
“Oh, the place I’m renting is just a few blocks that way. The walk is good. I’m really bad about sticking to workouts on the road.”
“Well, looks like it could start raining. Why don’t I give you a lift?”
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“Get in,” I said, as I hit the unlock button on the key fob and sent the lights blinking on my new wheels.
“Nice ride,” he said, looking over the car as best he could in the dim light that illuminated the parking lot.
“Got it just a few weeks ago. Mid-life crisis,” I shrugged with a laugh.
Tanner, a few inches taller than me, folded himself into the car, asking about the specs as he directed me toward his place. Not being a big car buff, I didn’t have a ton of answers for him. Just the canned stats that were cited to me.
When I pulled up to his little rented bungalow, Tanner asked, “Want to come in for a drink or something?”
Against my better judgment, I accepted. It was late, and I had a client early on Thursday, but I was enjoying hanging out with Tanner. The inside of the furnished rental was nice and neutral featuring leather furniture, but lacking any personality.
“Welcome to Casa Rental,” he laughed, flipping on a few lights. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said as he busied himself in the kitchen, appearing moments later with a bottle of red wine and a couple of glasses. “I hope this is a good bottle. One of my plans while living here is to get to know wine better,” he said placing the bottle on the coffee table after he poured the wine.
Unexpected Dreams: Dream Series, Book 4 Page 2
