by Henley, Jo
“It’s okay. I read a little erotica.” She placed a teasing hand on his knee. “Maybe I’ve read some of yours. Tell me your pen name.” Mitch went silent again. She gave him a little squeeze. He shook his head and took another drink of his beer.
Angela, popped open a second bottle and handed it to Bill without him having to order it. He took it and turned on his barstool, excusing himself to return to flirting with the table of young single women.
“So how long have you known Bill and why haven’t you been in yet?” Angela asked.
“Since high school. I’ve been married.” Liz flashed the wedding band that she hadn’t got around to cutting off her finger. “I should take this off. We’re getting a divorce.”
“Those are some rocks.” Angela examined the eternity band of diamonds closer. “Was he a billionaire or something?”
“No, just an asshole.”
“For giving you this?”
“He was married to his job. This isn’t even my original wedding band.” She twisted the ring around her finger. “He bought this for me when he made partner. Said the other one was too small for a wife of his standing.”
“If you’re divorcing, why are you still wearing it?” Angela asked, as she poured two beers from the tap for a table order.
“It’s stuck. Can’t get it off without cutting through a diamond.”
“If you really want a change, you’ll destroy a little rock to get make it happen,” Mitch said with a gentle pat on her arm.
Such a simple thought had never occurred to Liz before. She wasn’t usually a procrastinator and she really didn’t want to hold onto any part of her marriage. “You’re right. I’ll call a jeweler.”
“Hell, I got cutters at the house. We can take care of this tonight.”
“Not necessary Mitch,” Angela said.
He harrumphed and folded his arms across his chest.
Liz took another drink, this time with more rum mixed in the mouthful. “So Angela, Bill said you were an adventurer?”
“Only in costume.” She spun around, showing off in her khaki shorts and white tank top. She flicked a small whip attached to her belt loop. “I’m really just a quiet girl taking classes at the college during the day and tending bar here at night.”
“She’s one good kid.” Mitch patted her hand.
Their tender moment was interrupted by Bill plopping back down on his barstool while furiously typing on his phone.
“What’s up?”
“Nothing, I just need to finish this.” He kept his eyes on the small screen. He was adding a photo of the women in a sexy devil costume to his contact list.
“Aunt Sheila?” Liz questioned when she saw the name he’d entered for her. “Did you use that boyfriend line on her?”
“Yeah and it worked.”
“Bill what about Dina?” She reminded him of his long time girlfriend. She was tall, outspoken and prone to jealousy. Not a woman Liz ever cared to see crossed.
“Why do you think I’m typing so fast? She’s outside looking for a space.”
“How many aunts have you accumulated?” Liz grabbed for his phone, but he was fast and slipped it in his back pants pocket. This past summer, Dina had caught him sexting with a woman and nearly cut his dick off. Liz stepped in and mass texted all the women on his contact list that he was in a committed relationship with Dina. It slowed down his flirtations, but apparently hadn’t stopped it.
“Shh, I’ve learned my lesson. Trust me and don’t say anything.”
“Uh huh. Why don’t I believe you?”
Chapter Three
The back door to the bar swung open, flooding the dark corners with light for a brief moment. “Dina!” the crowd exclaimed, announcing her arrival, just as they did when Liz and Bill entered.
In high school, Dina was tan, blonde and beautiful. Now her tanned features were riddled with wrinkles and her blonde hair had lost it’s luster. Bill jumped up to meet her and the two locked themselves in an embrace of ass grabbing and tongue kissing action.
“You drinking tonight?” Angela asked.
Dina turned out of the lip lock. “One beer. I have to go home to the kid.”
“Look who’s here,” Bill said, pointing to Liz.
“Liz? I thought you’d never set foot in this place.”
“Here I am.” She shrugged, causing the balls on her antennae headband to dance.
“Well, hells bells. Is that an Eye Opener?” Dina snatched up the drink and gulped a mouthful. “This is nasty shit. I haven’t had one of these in years. You be careful, this’ll whoop your ass later tonight.” She handed it back with only a small amount of liquid left in the bottom.
“I’m done.” Liz pushed the drink across the counter to Angela.
“So have you met everyone?”
“I’ve met, Mitch.” She leaned backward on her barstool into him. He caught her by the waist. Liz bent her head back and kissed the bottom of his chin before sitting up.
“Only Mitch?” Dina protested, “Bill, go introduce her around.”
“She’s a big girl. Let her do it herself.”
“Lazy ass. Come on.” Dina snatched her drink off the bar and pulled Liz out of her seat. “Who should we see first?” she pondered, blowing across the top of her beer bottle.
The trio from the pool table, who’d been watching Liz since she entered, half waved to Dina.
“There’s where we’re going.” She stepped faster in the direction of the eager trio of desperate guys. “Hey, have you met Liz?”
“Buzzzzzz,” a slim man said, wiggling his finger around.
“What are you doing?” Dina asked.
“She’s a bumblebee.” He retracted his wiggling digit and offered his hand straight out. “Hi, I’m Dale.”
“Hi, Dale. I know Halloween wasn’t the smartest evening to pick to come here for the first time,” Liz laughed.
“Nonsense,” he said with a flick of his wrist. “Costumes say a lot about people.”
“Okay. Who are you dressed as?”
Dale was wearing a tan jumpsuit with a patch on the front pocket. Over his shoulder was a oversized water gun, spray painted black, and he sported a matching utility belt around his waist.
“Can’t you tell? I’m a comedic parody of myself.” He pointed to the patch on his jumpsuit, which had a ghost embroidered on it. “It’s funny, right?”
“Do you like the movie Ghostbusters or something?”
“I do, but I’m more making a statement. In stepping out in this costume, I’m mirroring the effects of social personification and incorrect perceptions of those in the spectral analysis and classification field of expertise.” Dale spoke fast and spit his explanation out without taking a breath.
Even though she’d heard all of his big words, Liz wasn’t sure she understood his message. Hoping for clarification, she turned a puzzled look to the other two men nearby.
“Dale here is a paranormal investigator,” Jim, a husky man in a red Star Trek shirt said. He offered his hand. When Liz took it, he brought it to his lips and kissed it. “I’m Jim.”
“Listen sugar, these guys’ll take care of you. I gotta go,” Dina said in her native Texan accent. She raced over to Bill who was chatting up a woman in a pirate costume.
“So, Jim are you making a statement or are you really a Star Trek Captain?”
“I’m not a captain.” He pinched his shirt near the silver emblem on his chest. “I’m a red shirt.” He stopped for a reaction, but only received a blank stare from Liz. So he continued. “Red shirts die in every episode. They can’t be captain. But, hey, call me whatever you want.”
“Sorry. I didn’t realize. Guess I’m not very cool.”
“You’re too cool to understand these costumes. I’m Lee,” the third man, who was also husky, but had ginger hair and a full beard said.
He wiped his hand on his outfit before offering it to Liz. “I’m just what you’re thinking. A Larper,” he said, confidently nodding
his head.
From his costume, a renaissance looking garb with a hooded cape, Liz figured it had something to do with a medieval times, so she smiled and acted like she knew what he was referring to.
After introductions were over, the three huddled around, staring like they’d never spoken to a woman before. There was a weird silence in the loud bar. Liz figured this was the point where most women excused themselves to the bathroom, never to return, but she was here to meet people, so she asked a question. “Do you guys come here often?”
“Pretty much.”
“All the time.”
“Yup.”
Those were their answers. Which cemented her theory of women’s reactions to them and tempted her to run to the bathroom herself. She didn’t. Instead she tried to think of a question along the lines of their hobbies that might interest them. Anything. But she struggled too long and found herself awkwardly shaking her head.
“Do you. . .” She started and at the same time Dale said, “So you are?” The group laughed together. “Go ahead, what were you saying?” Liz said to Dale.
“I just wondered. You came in with Bill, but you know Dina too. How is that possible?”
“I went to high school with both of them.”
“Ah, makes sense,” Dale said, with a nod. Which the other two mirrored, Liz joined in, starting the awkward nodding cycle again.
“I live across the street from Bill,” Liz added, determined not to fail at a conversation with these guys. Her next sentence was coming to her, slowly, but she was in luck. A coincidental event distracted the bar, saving her from the pain of more silence.
The front door opened, flooding in light and with it a man in a zombie costume.
“Oscar!” the trio and the other patrons of the bar exclaimed.
Oscar? Liz echoed. My bartender? He’s here? She turned her attention, as if in slow motion toward the man who had caused such a stir in her life. She strained to catch a glimpse of his features, but the door had shut and the bar was too dark.
Chapter Four
The announcement of his arrival unfazed him. He expertly dodged furniture, posed for a selfie with Dina, straightened one or two out-of-place chairs, and made his way up to the main bar. He patted Andy on the back and ruffled Mitch’s hair out of place. Then he lifted the hinged divider to join Angela behind the counter.
His actions, normal apparently to all the regular patrons, but not to Liz. Each step he took awed her. She intently watched every move of this bartender. So this is Oscar. This man who’d invaded her dreams. This real incarnation of her fantasies. He was a few feet away. She could reach out and grab him. Bill was right. He showed up. But why? It’s his day off.
Behind his zombie, undead costume she imagined was a man very real, very handsome, and very much one she could think of as perfect. From her vantage point across the room she watched, unhindered. From the moment he stepped in, the trio of men by her side had vanished.
Oscar didn’t mix a drink back behind the bar. He only inspected bottles, twisting and swishing them around. He checked a few glasses, said a few words to Mitch, then disappeared down a dark hallway under the neon “Restrooms” sign.
With Oscar out of her sight she thought for a moment. Run. But her heart screamed louder. Stay. Terrified of the unknown, she had stayed away from the Buckeye for too long. Tonight she was listening to her heart, not her fears. “Nice meeting you all,” she said, without turning around to the trio of men, leaving them to their silence.
She strolled back to her seat next to Mitch, hopped up, and hoped he’d take care of the introductions when Oscar returned. “Did ya miss me?”
“Liz, there you are. Oscar’s here. You should meet him,” Mitch said just as the zombie bartender was returning with an armload of liquor bottles.
“Hi,” Liz giggled, uncontrollably when he was in earshot.
“Hey,” Oscar nodded. He finished unloading his arms onto the counter and slapped his hands together. “That should do it,” he said to Angela. His gaze locked onto Liz. His slow sexy smile, the one she’d been dreaming about, crept up under the zombie makeup.
Liz’s lips twitched into a pucker. She was captured in a spell he couldn’t know he was conjuring over her. Time was standing still as she searched for more clues of his features beneath the gray face paint and fake blood.
Then out of no where, Mitch turned on his barstool, knocked his knees into her, toppling her balance, and sending her straight into Oscar’s strong muscular arms.
“Oops.” Liz said. Then inhaled, taking in the scent that permeated on his flannel shirt. It was all man, just as she thought it would be. She tried to right herself, but her hands had landed on his tight chest and she couldn’t tear them away from him.
Caught in his grasp, Oscar held onto Liz longer than she would’ve thought. She melted into him and begged his hazel eyes for a kiss, but her pleas would have to wait until later. “Throw yourself at me anytime.”
“I didn’t. . . Mitch. . .”
“I know. I’m Oscar.” He let go of his catch and pulled out an empty barstool to sit down. Their private space had become one. Each captivated by the other. They sat unaware of any other disturbances in the bar. Until Mitch said what she’d wanted him to.
“This here’s Liz. She’s Bill’s friend.” It was a good thing he spoke up, since Liz hadn’t yet found the words to say to her perfect bartender.
“Didn’t I see Dina here?” Oscar thumbed over his shoulder.
“We’re friends too,” Liz added to clarify any misconception about what kind of “friend” she was to Bill. “He’s bugged me to come in here for months, but I kept avoiding it. I don’t know why.” Liz rambled. “The Buckeye is great and Mitch is great. Angela is. . .”
“Not the best bartender. Where’s your drink?”
“Had one. An Eye Opener.”
“Angela! How could you do that?” He grimaced back to her. “Do you not want this friend of Bill’s to come back?”
“Thought it’d be fun.” Angela shrugged, finishing up a pour on a pint of beer. “Besides Dina drank most of it.”
“Let’s get you—a Rum & Coke.” Oscar tapped the counter. Angela responded by clinking ice cubes into a lowball glass.
Searching for a sexier pose and not wanting to be thrown off her barstool again, Liz slipped off her seat and stood. She leaned her ass on the edge and grabbed the cushion behind her back.
“You’ll like this.” Oscar handed the drink over to her.
Remembering the buzz she’d gotten earlier, Liz lifted the drink up, wrapped her lips around the skinny red straw and sucked. She closed her eyes as the smooth liquor ran down her throat. “Mmmm,” she said, releasing a small sigh.
“Damn—woman,” Oscar growled.
His reaction confirmed that even after so many years of marriage, she still had that little something in her to make a man squirm. “Tastes great.”
“Sure it does,” Mitch said. “Give her another on me.” He slapped the bar.
“Slow down,” Oscar said, holding his hand up to Mitch, but not turning his gaze away from Liz. “You’re Bill’s friend? His married friend?” He tapped the diamond band on her ring finger. It clinked against the glass in her hand and echoed “mistake” in her ears.
“I’m going through a divorce.” Liz sat the glass down and tucked her hands back under her ass. “It’s almost final.”
“She’ll cut the ring off, if you ask nicely,” Mitch said.
“Thank you.” Liz flashed a smile back to Mitch. When she turned back around, Oscar’s interest had clearly faded. He was staring off into the crowd of the bar.
I can’t lose his attention this fast. I’ve come this far. She turned back to Mitch and pleaded with her eyes. He nodded to the end of the counter. That’s it. “Do you have change for the game machine? I’m sure you’re a master at something over there.”
“You want to play a game?” Oscar offered his arm to her. She looped hers around his. “I
know just the one.”
Chapter Five
They stepped the few feet to the end of the bar, past Andy on the last stool, and sat at a right angle to the main counter. The countertop touch screen gaming system’s menu included video poker, trivia, solitaire, mini golf, photo hunt, and more.
“I have a feeling we’ll make a good team.” Oscar squeezed in an extra barstool, giving Liz the seat next to the wall. He inserted a dollar and navigated through the menu buttons as expertly as he dodged the tables and chairs when he’d entered the bar. He choose a sub category heading, an erotic version of the photo hunt game.
“You’re an expert at this one?”
Numbers flashed on the screen, counting down to the start of the game.
“Maybe,” Oscar answered.
The game started and two nearly identical photos of a woman in a white bikini bottom and no top popped up. “Hit the differences fast.” He tapped on the left side where a plant was missing in the background. “Don’t be shy. Just don’t miss.” Oscar tapped another part of the screen, a strand of the woman’s hair lengthened to match the photo on the right.
“I got this.” With no distractions from the half naked woman, Liz quickly found the other three differences. “This is a breeze.”
The next set of photos were similar. This time it was a blonde holding a beach ball over her head and wearing the tiniest yellow bikini, barely covering her nipples. Oscar must’ve liked yellow, because Liz found the first two differences before he raised a finger to the screen.
“You’re catching on,” he said, finding a missing beach towel on his side.
“It’s not that hard. You just need to focus.” Liz tapped on a tattoo of a butterfly on the women’s hip near the tie of her string bikini.
“I’m the master of focus.”
“That’s a bold statement. How about a test?” Liz grasped the top of her costume, shimmied it down a few inches to expose more of her cleavage, and jiggled.
“No fair!” Oscar yelled.
Andy turned away from the baseball game. Mitch leaned back on his barstool. “Need help over there?” he asked, stretching his gaze over to Liz’s direction.
