by Hadley Quinn
“Pssh,” Natalie scowled. “Have you taken a look at our options?”
I picked up the shot that was slid my way and examined it systematically. “Why no, Nat, I haven’t scoped out your selection of disappointment. Would you like me to get on that for you?”
“I dare you,” she smirked at me.
Taking the shot of whiskey, my eyes never left hers. I’ll admit Natalie Denman was extremely hot—I’d say a 9.5 on my superficial scale—and definitely a run for my money. I’m not quite sure why we didn’t hang out more often—generally just a once or twice a month hookup—but I think we were due that night.
When her friends joined the guys at the pool table, I took the seat next to Natalie and slid her stool closer to mine. “So tell me how life has been treating you lately.”
She gave me a rigid glare. “You seriously want to know or am I going to be your conquest for the night.”
“I’m positive that was already your goal.”
Her look of disgust was completely staged, but she gave me shit anyway. “Wow, someone is full of himself.”
The barkeep silently questioned me for another drink, so I confirmed with a nod. Why not? I’d worked my ass off all week and deserved to chill out for a bit. I also knew it would put Natalie on my good side because she was a total nurturer and would take care of me. Sounds a bit selfish, right? But she wasn’t much of a drinker and liked to take on that role of guardian over me.
And…it always brought us cozier with each other. I’ll admit I’m a bit of a reserved guy. I wasn’t afraid of rejection in a general sense, but I valued Nat’s approval of me. When she wanted to be close to me, it always seemed like a good thing. And that only happened when we were in a setting like this. Maybe that sounds ridiculous, but we seemed to be a bit more cautious of each other out in the real world.
“Life has been fine,” she finally answered. “I’m still working at Collier Graphics. I like it. Quite a lot, actually. It’s sort of like your firm—laid back. I’m sooo accepted there,” she added in a dramatic tearful voice. “They like me. They really like me!”
I laughed. “Okay, Sally Field. And yeah, Becker & Lewis have been good to me. It sure beats working for Stackman.”
“Oh God, he was a shit-talking douchebag. I’m so happy you’re not working for him either.”
“It was a job, end of story. And I think it worked in my favor because Clive hates him.”
“Yes, Clive loves you. And you deserve it, Dane. You work hard and you love what you do. You belong somewhere that appreciates you.”
In business and in life, I wanted to say. But I kept my mouth shut except to down the second shot that was slid my way.
Natalie went on to update me on her family, her new apartment, and the other designer at work who keeps asking her out. I told her she could use me as a fake boyfriend if she needed to and she promised she’d probably have to go to that extent. However, I knew Nat, and I knew if she didn’t want a guy hitting on her she’d let him know. Maybe she wanted this guy to ask her out or maybe she just hadn’t gotten around to turning him down cold, but she seemed indifferent to it all.
“So tell me about you, hot stuff. Whatcha been up to?”
I did a boring summary of a few houses I was designing. She seemed genuinely interested, but when I brought up my weird neighbor, she had a good laugh about that.
“Oh God, it sounds like he thinks you’re selling drugs out of your briefcase. What a fucking nut.”
“What?” I asked, taking that information in for a second. “Why the hell would he think that?”
“He’s probably watched too many movies.”
“I doubt he’d watch anything that involved drugs and crime. Or harsh language, for that matter.”
“Ha! I bet he’s a closet porn addict.”
Ew. I didn’t want to have that image in my head. Peter was weird, and I’m sure he had his own secrets and shit, but I certainly didn’t need to know them.
“Let’s have sex out on your lawn when he’s outside,” Nat said.
Laughing, I shook my head. “As much fun as that would be, I’d rather not give my neighbors a show.” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Unless you get me extremely drunk tonight.”
She gave me a sassy smile and pointed a finger my way. “You be careful what you wish for, tiger.”
I ordered myself a beer.
An hour later, I was a little drunk. I played a game of billiards with the guys, lost, and had two more beers. Natalie stuck close by, dividing her time with girlfriends and us, but mostly with us. And by us I mean me. I’m not so dense I can’t realize she has a thing for me, more than just an interest to hook up every few weeks. But with Nat I’m kind of at a loss sometimes. I feel like she’d be an amazing girlfriend, but at the same time, like we’d be too good for each other and find a way to fuck it up.
“You’re probably right.”
I paused my thinking—or what I thought I was keeping inside my head—and turned Natalie’s direction. “I didn’t say that out loud.”
“Yes you did.”
We were now sitting in a booth in the corner. A UFC fight was on the big screen and the noise in the room seemed to have doubled. I knew I was drunk, but a functioning drunk. I could have conversations, take myself to the bathroom, play a game of pool with the guys, and otherwise be fine. Just a little slow.
“Don’t give me the ‘I’m fine’ routine, Dane. You’re so drunk right now I had to separate you from everyone so you didn’t piss anyone else off.”
Her friend Krista always got on my nerves. I may or may not have told her she was raging bitch with a vagina busier than a 7-Eleven. But I knew it was coming out of my mouth, so it’s not like I was completely wasted. “Well she really is a bitch. You should hang out with better people.”
Nat scoffed. “Just because you two don’t get along doesn’t mean she and I don’t get along. You two clash like oil and water.”
“I’m oil ‘cause I’ve got thicker skin, and I wouldn’t call her water. That’s too clean. She’s a cum dumpster.”
“Oh my God,” Natalie scoffed as she laid her head against my shoulder. “I love you, Dane. You make me smile.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been loved by a female other than family members. Or at least was never told that by anyone. Chris loves me. Madden loves me. They are stupid motherfuckers who love people like me. And I’m rambling. The room might be just a tad tilted right now.
“Dane,” Natalie laughed. “You’re talking out loud again. And Chris and Madden have no choice but to love you. You’re a good friend to them. And to me. I appreciate that. You’ve always been there for me whether you want to admit it or not.”
All I could really hear her saying was that she wanted to sleep with me, so I slid my hand to her thigh, a bit close between her legs, and left it there. Mainly because that last beer seemed to hit me all too quickly and I was somewhat paralyzed that way, but I’m sure she really wanted my hand there.
She placed her hand on top of mine and I think she ordered some coffee. She also made me drink some water, which I refused at first. I already had to take a piss, and after realizing I truly didn’t know which direction the bathroom was anymore, it occurred to me that I was officially shitfaced.
***
It was one in the morning by the time the alcohol wore off and life around me seemed to return. I must have checked out for a bit, but I was still sitting in the booth with Natalie when I slowly began to emerge from my drunken tunnel. My head was resting on my arms and I could feel her hand softly rubbing my back.
“You okay there, sport? I can’t remember the last time you actually got tanked.”
I couldn’t either. Maybe Vegas. I guess it had been about a year. I sat upright and rubbed my face. “How long have I been out?”
“Mmm, about an hour. Madden almost got in a fight, Krista and Whitney left with two morons, and Chris keeps texting Chloe every fifteen minutes. You know, the usual.”
&n
bsp; I couldn’t help but smile. And I loved that about Chris, even though I often gave him shit about it.
“Here, want some coffee?” Natalie asked, motioning for a waitress as she slid over the other mug.
I watched the dark liquid waterfall into the pale cup and then thanked the waitress without looking up. I knew that waitress. She’d given me a blowjob behind the building one night, but I couldn’t remember her name and didn’t want to look at her nametag to find out. I’m pretty sure that makes me sound like a dirty bastard, but my college days weren’t that innocent. I hadn’t done shit like that for several years—I guess since my parents died and my responsibilities changed.
“I have some food coming, too,” Nat informed me. “I’m starving.”
I wasn’t sure if that was the truth or she’d ordered it just for me. My best guess was that it was both. Being hungry was like the one thing that made Natalie bitchy. If that girl mentions a single thing about needing food, you better get it in front of her face within ten minutes or people might die.
After half an hour, I felt completely fine again. I ate, drank coffee, took another leak, and ended up shooting a closing hour game of pool with the guys. Natalie was still hanging around, and I was assuming it was only for me. Then I found out she’d gotten a ride here with Krista, who had left without her.
“You know I’m good for a ride,” I told her, pulling out my keys. I said farewell to the guys who were already heading to their vehicles. She gave me a suggestive smirk when I realized how those words had come out, but decided to go with it. “Hop in, lady. My place or yours?”
She took my keys from me. I was sobered up, but didn’t mind if she drove. We ended up at my place, and after jokes about sex in the yard where she would moan Peter’s name really loudly, we just stuck to the bedroom. I was quickly reminded why we hooked up so easily but never stayed together. We always fucked pretty hard, somewhat rough, and afterwards, it seemed a bit formal between us. Don’t get me wrong, sex with Natalie was extremely satisfying, but there was nothing more to it. No cuddling and no small talk. It was like the deed was done and both parties enjoyed it, but no need to turn it into something it wasn’t meant to be.
She left an hour later. Apparently Whitney and Krista had had a shitty night with the two dicks they’d left with and were still roaming the city.
When they swung by to pick her up, Natalie gave me a brisk, “See ya, Dane,” on her way out, and I went back to bed.
5
“You should just make it a weekly thing,” Madden told me on Monday morning.
We were both arriving at the firm at the same time, and after asking how my weekend had gone, he’d straight up asked if Natalie came home with me Saturday night.
“Bi-weekly,” he added as we entered the building. “Thrice. Fuck, just put her on speed dial.”
I rolled my eyes. Having a fuck buddy had never been my intention with Nat. I thought she was extremely cool and we got along great, but there was always that weird space of time in between screwing each other where we avoided contact for a while. I had no idea what she’d think if I suggested we bang more often.
“So that segment this morning was a hot one, eh?” Madden changed the subject as he entered my office behind me. He paused at the door while I continued on to my desk.
“What segment?”
Before he could answer, I realized what he meant. It was Monday. Slice of the City was every Monday. Damn, I must have had a lot on my mind in order to miss it because I’d been looking forward to it.
I set my bag on my desk and sat down. There were no client meetings scheduled, so I was just in jeans and a Queen t-shirt. For a few seconds, I reflected on how fucking cool it was to work at such an established architectural firm and feel so relaxed and laid back. It was my dream job in more ways than one.
Then Madden said something about strip clubs and it redirected my attention to him.
“She did a broadcast on strip clubs?” I asked with surprise. Most all of Sinclair’s recommendations had been dining places, bakeries, coffee shops, and a few other spots like parks, a dress shop, and an art gallery.
“Yeah,” Madden chuckled. “I guess she had someone email her—a chick—and asked for some guidance. The girl said she would go with her boyfriend to a strip club—some fucking couples bullshit—but she wanted one that was somewhat classy.”
“There are classy strip clubs?” I joked, pulling out some work from my briefcase.
“What do you mean? Hardworking ladies come with a lot of integrity. You gotta be committed and disciplined.”
I didn’t give a response as I flipped open my laptop.
“So why don’t you bring Nat to the game on Saturday?”
That came out of left field. I looked up at Madden and studied him for a second. I wasn’t quite sure what his deal was with Natalie lately. “Why you so set on me spending more time with her?”
He laughed intolerantly. “Oh come the fuck on, Dane. She. Likes. You. Are you really that stupid you can’t see it? She’s been into you ever since you met five years ago.”
I knew that, but wouldn’t admit it to him. However, I really wasn’t that sure of how “into” me she was. “I met her in a coffee shop, and she was a hookup after a friend’s party a few weeks later. We both agreed that’s all it was.”
“Things change, man. It was five years ago. I think you’re both more mature now, have sowed some of your wild oats, and are ready to single each other out. You know?”
I did agree with him on that. I wasn’t looking for fresh meat each week like I had been before. My life had hit a comfortable routine and it felt good. I wasn’t seeking out any kind of relationship, but I often felt it would be nice to have one. However, I just didn’t have the energy to take one on.
“Anyway, think about it,” Madden said as he turned away.
Once I was alone, I pushed my files to the side and pulled up the radio station website on my laptop. I clicked on Sinclair’s latest broadcast and began listening, but a minute into it decided to multitask and check my emails.
One happened to be a reply from someone named Sinclair and it caught me by surprise.
I paused and stared at it for a minute. It was from the Sinclair. Yeah, I’d emailed her. It was a couple days after Chloe’s big blow up in customer traffic. I’d felt so grateful for my sister’s boost in business I wanted to thank the woman responsible for giving her the chance.
I finally clicked on the email to open it.
Mr. Thomas,
Thank you so much for your kind words, but especially for the pride and love you have for your family. I absolutely loved your sister’s coffee shop and have returned two more times this past week. Your email was much appreciated amidst the dozens I get a day requesting favors of me. Thank you!
Sinclair
Hmm, I’d never considered that. When sending the message I thought maybe she’d be too busy to respond, but I never thought about businesses contacting her, most likely begging for a recommendation.
I sent a reply for some reason, but figured it was pushing my luck. I mean she was nice enough to respond once, why would she respond a second time? I kept in mind her mention of people contacting her for favors—there was certainly no need for me to ask anything of her—so I just stuck to a simple ‘thank you’ for taking the time to reply.
It was probably lame and undesired, but I was still so stuck on this woman it was my only chance to either make or break my obsession. I went a few days without a response from her, though. And believe me, I checked my emails often.
By Thursday, I was convinced I probably shouldn’t have messaged her that last time.
***
“Beers. Let’s go.” Madden motioned with his head for me to get my ass out of the office. It was after six on Friday and I had blueprints spread out all over my worktable alongside a three-hour-old container of Chinese food that I’d only half finished.
“Five more minutes.”
“Dane,
you vagina, you said that twenty minutes ago.”
“Then I’ll meet you over there,” I chuckled, looking up at him. “Quit looking at my vagina and go away.”
He shook his head at me with an eye roll, waving behind him as he left.
About twice a week we’d grab a beer from Libby’s Bar & Grill down the street. Sometimes our bosses would come too, and sometimes other coworkers at the firm. I generally only mingled with the same four or five people from work, so it was no surprise I headed straight for the back booth where Madden and Clive were already sitting, tipping back beers together while watching the Red Sox and Mariners.
“Ohhh Mr. Workaholic ready to join us now,” Madden quipped. “Your boss know you’re cutting out of work early?”
Humored, I sat down and ordered a beer. “My boss will just have to suck it.”
Clive grunted with amusement and finished off his drink. “You make me look bad sometimes, Dane. But I’m a zero fucks kind of guy so I’ll allow it.”
Two other men from our firm left the bar counter and sat down with us. Steve was from accounting and had been with Becker & Lewis longer than I had; Dalton was going into his third month with us straight out of college. I liked both of them but just didn’t have much to say when we were all together. I always had my drinks, watched whatever game was on the screens, and kept my personal shit to myself.
“Hear what happened to Stackman?” Clive asked a few minutes later. My interest was piqued, so I gave him my attention. “Being charged with extortion. So far.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Wow. I guess I’m not surprised, but that’s big time.”
“Was that broad there when you worked for him?” he asked.
“What broad?”
“His secretary. Kathy Mason?”
I slowly nodded. “Yeah, I remember her. I always thought she was blowing Stackman at lunchtime,” I added with a laugh.
“Ha, you’re right on point,” Clive nodded. “And they were in on some kind of blackmail against the accountant who was allegedly cooking the books for him. Big fucking mess, I hear. Everyone there is being dragged through the mud. I’m glad you left when you did.”
