by Henley, Jo
Oscar covered her chest up with one hand and tapped on the last difference with his other. “Are you crazy?”
“You’re no fun.” Liz pursed her lips, leaving her lower lip extended out in a pout.
“And you’re too sexy for this place.”
His compliment took her off guard. Could it be? Is my fantasy man attracted to me? How is this going to play out? How far am I willing to go?
“Look at this,” he said, snapping her out of her daydream. “We got a top score.”
Oscar typed the initials OWW in the 10th spot. It matched several other slots in the leaderboard taken up by his initials. “Next time. You behave and we’ll do better.”
“Fine. So, OWW? What’s your full name.”
“Oscar Wayne Wallace,” he said with no hesitation.
Liz couldn’t help but hold back a chuckle over his full name. “Your parents didn’t even give you a chance.”
“I know. Family names. My sister’s got it worse.” He took another dollar out for the machine. “Her name is Clarice Opal.”
“Her initials are COW?” Liz covered her laughter with the back of her hand, which became so fierce it turned into a coughing fit. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
Oscar shook his head, handing a drink over to soothe her cough. Not only was he a master of focus, but as Liz learned at that very moment, he was a master of timing too. When she tipped the glass up to drink he said, “She’s married now. To a man named Dixon. Now she’s a COD.”
“Fudge!” That was too much, Liz spit out her drink, spraying his pants. “Shit. I’m sorry.” She dabbed the wet area with a napkin, grazing his crotch in the process and finding a surprisingly pleasant sized package that was a little excited to meet her.
“Good enough,” he said, placing his hand on hers and scooting it down to his knee. “What’s your middle name?”
“Ann. I’m, Elizabeth Ann Martin. EAM, boring, huh?”
“Not really.”
“You two done yet?” Angela poked her head around the machine. “Bill texted. Dina’s driving him home. Apparently she didn’t like the way the young sexy pirate was eyeing him.”
“Are you kidding me?” Liz stretched her head up scanning the bar for Bill.
“Dina’s got him by the balls,” Mitch hollered over from his seat.
“No balls, two strikes. Bottom of the eighth,” Andy interjected.
“If he dared to hit on someone in front of Dina, then he can kiss those balls goodbye,” Angela said.
“Foul ball. Doesn’t count. Still two strikes against the batter.”
“Nice update Andy,” Angela said, replacing his beer with a fresh one.
“Well that’s a bummer.” Liz slouched in her spot. With Bill gone she’d have no excuse to stay. She was just getting somewhere with Oscar and didn’t want to go home. She fidgeted and touched one heel down to the floor.
“You don’t have to leave,” Oscar said, reading her mind. He suggestively raised his eyebrows, twitched his head towards the game machine, and let out a whimper.
This was exactly the move she would’ve hoped he’d make on their first meeting. It was tempting and sweet without being desperate. She was hooked. “One more game, but—let’s switch it to men. Show me the abs.” She hit the menu button on the screen.
“You want abs?” Oscar raised his shirt. To Liz’s delight, he was fit like the models in the photos and had an inviting trail of hair leading down into the top of his jeans.
“Liz wants to see abs,” Oscar called out to the men in the bar, lowering his shirt.
Mitch pulled his up first, exposing a white beer belly, which shook when he slapped it. Andy lifted the side of his jersey to reveal abs similar to Oscar’s, but not as hairy.
“Over here.” Behind Liz, all three men at the pool table had their shirts up.
“Your turn,” one of the three called out.
“You’re all nuts.” Liz looked around at the eager eyes staring in her direction. Most of the crowd had thinned out, leaving the regulars and a handful of shadows in the back.
The rum must’ve gotten to her head. “What the hell.” She looked over to Oscar for approval. His eyes were full of anticipation and lust. Just what she wanted.
Liz balanced on the rung of her barstool and ran her hands up her torso to her breasts. She teased the men, inching her fingertips back down to her waistline. Pulling ever so slowly, her glittery top untucked out of the tutu of her bumblebee costume. She hadn’t planned on lifting it all the way up. She hadn’t had that much liquor yet, but she had the hem in her grasp. Now what?
The universe answered. Her phone vibrated in her purse, bringing an end to her pretend striptease. Ignoring the groans from the onlookers, she threw her hands up and fished out her phone. The screen showed one missed call, from Chris. “Some other time.” She flashed around her excuse. “I should return this call.”
Oscar held his hand out to help her off the barstool. “Go out back if want any chance of reception.” He pointed to the door under the red exit sign in the the dark corner.
“Thanks, I won’t be long. Don’t get the top score without me.” She gave his muscular bicep a squeeze and made her way to the back door.
Chapter Six
The back door opened out to the alley and the gravel parking lot that was full earlier. Now only a few cars were left in the spaces. Liz stepped under a light fixture attached to the building and returned her soon-to-be ex’s call.
“Hello. What do you want?”
“You’re pretty snippy. Are you in bed already?”
“Not even home. Not that it’s any of your business.”
“Oh, you’re out. Not getting drunk are you?”
“What do you want?” she asked again, kicking rocks in the gravel alleyway.
“It’s just that we’re still married and I don’t want you to embarrass yourself. Or me.”
“Is that why you called? Spit it out or I’m hanging up.” Liz paced, not wanting to ruin her mood, by starting an argument with Chris tonight.
“Yeah, well, I’m trying to coordinate all this documentation. Our firm’s working hard to get the petition satisfactory.”
“I don’t need it perfect. I just need it over.” She rested her head against an electrical box hanging on the back side of the building. He always did this to her. He always found a way to be absurdly right, causing her to be in the wrong. His attitude and his over spending were the main reasons she’d asked for the divorce.
“Okay. That’s just what I called about. Judge Warner, the judge I wanted to sign off on our final hearing is going on vacation.”
“So?” She paused letting his words sink in. He was serious. He was asking for another postponement. She couldn’t let that happen. What about Oscar? This has to end. “Some other judge will sign it.”
“No. We’re being passed off. I can’t accept that. We’ll wait for Warner. It’ll only be another two weeks, three, tops.”
“That’s not going to happen. I’m the petitioner. I can and will proceed without you.”
“Liz, be reasonable.”
She laughed at his request. “That’s the beauty of divorce. I don’t have to. Call my attorney next time.”
Hanging up, she felt both triumphant and defeated. Above that, she was furious and wanted to smash her phone to the ground. Instead she tucked it into her bra, covered her face and screamed into her hands.
Expelling all her anger, she took a deep breath and pulled herself together to go back inside for the stiffest drink Angela could pour. She yanked on the back door handle and it came flying open toward her. Along with the door, Oscar and Mitch tumbled out into her.
“You alright?” Oscar asked. He reached to steady Liz, while keeping one arm around Mitch to hold him upright.
“Buzzzz. You walking me home too?” Mitch asked, flopping his arm over her shoulder.
“He’s only four houses down the alley. Want to tag along?”
“Why not?” Liz
squeezed Mitch around the waist. “Let’s get the silver fox back home to his cozy den.”
Mitch rested his head on Liz’s shoulder and trudged down the alley between the couple.
“Did you return your call?”
“Humph,” she scoffed. “It was Chris. My ex. I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Understood.”
“I have a bad ex,” Mitch slurred. “No, wait she’s one of those . . . those . . .” He searched for the right word to use.
“Spouse? Wife?” Oscar offered. “You’re still married.”
“I was thinking of something else. It’s on the tip of my tongue, but we’ll go with wife.”
The walk was short. At their destination, they stopped at the one and only gate built in the block of chain link fences dividing the yards from the alley.
“The lights are off. You’re safe to go inside,” Oscar said, opening the gate.
Mitch took Liz’s hand and brought it to his lips for a kiss, but just as it scuffed his beard, he yelled, “Bitch!” Letting go, he jerked his arm across his chest and pointed over his shoulder to the house. “That’s what she is.”
“His wife’s pretty bad,” Oscar said. “That’s why he comes to the Buckeye. But that’s a story for another time.”
Mitch spun back around to Liz. “You—you need to come back.” He flicked her bumblebee antennae. “I like you.”
“I like you too, Mitch.” She leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.
“Zom-Bee,” he said, commenting on the couple’s Halloween costumes. “You two make a good pair.” He leaned up to Oscar’s ear. “I don’t think she’ll go for me. You should take a chance.”
“Got it. Go inside.” Oscar turned him around and closed the gate behind him. After a final wave, he laced his fingers in Liz’s for the walk back to the bar.
“He’s adorable,” she commented about Mitch, trying to mask her heart racing over Oscar’s gesture to hold her hand.
“That’s how we lure you in. Introduce you to nice old men. They butter you up and you keep coming back for more.”
“I think . . . if I return . . . I’ll be back to see someone else.” Liz fluttered her eyes. Another move she was shocked she’d used to flirt with Oscar.
“Andy? Baseball season’s almost over. You’d better make your move fast.”
“I want to see you.” She stopped in her tracks. A blast of cold night air blew past them, chilling Liz in her thin costume. She loosened from his grip and hugged herself, shaking off her shivers.
Oscar took his flannel shirt off, “Ohh,” Liz moaned under her breath, staring at his chest muscles, squeezed in a taut black t-shirt.
He held out his plaid offering and she slipped her arms in the sleeves. Letting his hands linger around her waist, she twirled around, face to face.
He gently untucked her hair out from the collar in the back. Keeping a hold of a curl, he looped it around his finger as he brought the lock around to the front.
Liz was caught off guard by his tenderness. She’d only known him for a few hours and this one gesture was more seductive than anything her husband had attempted to try over years of marriage. She wanted to hold on to this moment forever, but it had already lasted too long. She twisted in his arms.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a whisper. His lips grazed over the bridge of her nose. It was tantalizingly sensual being so close and waiting for his kiss.
She twitched and licked her lips preparing for his touch to come. Inhaling deeply, his lips paused on the apple of her cheek. Almost. One more intake of breath and . . . intoxication.
His kiss was deliriously gentle, lingering lips on lips. His tongue tasted her mouth, but did not claim it. He pulled back, flashing Liz a slow sexy smile.
“Got a little fake blood on you.” He wiped his thumb in the corner of her red stained lips.
“It’ll wash.” She tiptoed up and kissed him. She wanted to prove that she wanted to be in his arms, even if it was for just one night.
Gentle pecks, exploded voraciously into tongues probing, fueling their passion. She inhaled his air, matching his gasps between kisses.
Fighting carnal urges, he stepped back, keeping a tight grip on her hands at arms length. Taking a deep breath, he regained control of his urges.
“I should go,” Liz said, speaking first.
He hugged her hard and once again, she melted in his arms. “Wait, how many drinks have you had?” he asked.
“Less than two. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? I can drive you home.”
“Better not.”
“That’s my favorite shirt you’re wearing. Will I see it again? Tomorrow? I’m working, but it’ll be slow.”
She hugged the cloth close to her body and stepped away. “I’ll bring it back. I promise.” With butterflies in her stomach, she turned to walk around the outside of the building to her car parked out front. She blew a kiss to him at the corner. “Bye.”
Oscar waved and pulled the handle on the back door, disappearing into the Buckeye.
Did tonight really happen? she asked herself.
Chapter Seven
The bar was quiet when Oscar reentered through the back door. No one announced his reentry. He strolled up to the counter and placed both palms under the hinged partition to step behind.
“Uh, uh!” Angela slapped the bar top. “You stay on that side. It’s your night off.”
“Fine.” He held his hands up and sat down on a seat. “Where’d the crowd go?”
“Some costume contest at the Lizard Lounge,” Angela answered, wiping down stainless steel shaker parts and setting them on a towel to dry.
“Figures.” Oscar slumped his elbow on the bar and rested his chin on his fist.
“You look like you need a shot of Jager.” She swatted at him with her towel. “What happened out there with Liz? Did you screw things up?”
“She stung him good,” Dale said, walking up behind Oscar and sitting down on the stool next to him. “A little meat tenderizer will stop the tingling.”
“Tell me everything.” Angela crossed her arms and leaned back to listen.
“They were in the alleyway and Oscar gave her the shirt off his back,” Dale said.
“Then what?” Angela leaned forward in interest.
“That’s enough.” Oscar put a stop to the schoolyard gossip version of his actions “Dale, don’t you have some other bar to go to? Or some contest to win?”
“Not me. I’m hanging out here until it’s time to go see some real action.”
“Ghost hunting?” Oscar smirked and took a drink of the water Angela had set down in front of him.
“Don’t say it like that. It’s a paranormal investigation excursion.” Dale slammed his fist into Oscar’s bicep. “Hey, why don’t you tag along?”
Oscar blocked Dale’s request by wagging his finger in his face. “Uh, uh. Not since Chad. Nothing doing.”
“Chad was not my fault.”
“He’s the only one that’s been out on one of your excursions and no one’s seen him since.” Oscar left his seat and this time Angela let him behind the bar. He opened the register with a no sale and counted down the money.
“Did you get the scoop on Liz’s divorce?” Angela asked. “How soon is that happening?”
“Didn’t talk about it.” Oscar bundled the large bills and left them under the drawer. “He was the phonemail she returned though.”
“Then they kissed,” Dale added.
“You don’t want to be the rebound guy,” Angela said, bumping her hip into his.
“Oscar? Rebound?” Dale waved his hands in the air like crazy. “He’s a billionaire. That title alone always keeps you out of the rebound category. Did you tell her about your money?”
“It didn’t come up.” Oscar walked away from the conversation to lock the front door behind the last customer.
“How could having a billion dollars in your bank account not come up?” Dale called out to him.
>
Oscar treated his wealth like a big secret, but even with no other patrons in the bar, Dale was chastised for his outburst. “Shush! I don’t flash it around.” Oscar stepped up to the small framed man. Neither one was very tall, but Oscar still had a few inches over him. “Been there. Besides I get the feeling Liz isn’t into wealthy men.”
“She did resent the fact her husband replaced her wedding ring with a bigger one. Talked like she would’ve preferred her original smaller one.”
“See. How can I tell her I can afford to buy the whole damn jewelry store? I’d look worse than her husband.” Oscar addressed both Dale and Angela. “You have to keep this a secret. Liz can’t find out I’m on the billionaire top one hundred list.”
“I’ll never get you,” Dale said. “You’ve got everything and live like you don’t. And now you’re going to lie to the most seductive, attractive, woman that’s ever walked through those doors. How do you think this is going to turn out?”
“I’ll deal with it. For now, don’t tell her.” Oscar walked to exit out the back door. Dale and Angela followed him.
“You really like her?” Angela asked, flipping the main light switch. Oscar pulled the door shut behind her, locked it, and handed her the keys.
“There’s something there. I can’t explain it. But I really hope she comes back.” Oscar walked Angela to her car and held the door open for her to ease into the driver’s seat.
“She will. I know women and she’ll be back. If she doesn’t we’ll torture Bill.”
“Torture Bill.” Oscar nodded. “Yep, it’s his fault. Goodnight Angela.”
Before heading home, Oscar wanted more time alone to think about this amazing woman that’d just walked into his life. He drove his truck to his favorite place to ponder.
“Evening, Mr. Wallace,” the night attendant at the parking garage for the Westwall Tower said. “Eat any good brains tonight?”
“Excuse me?” Oscar asked, forgetting he was still in full zombie makeup.
