Second Chance

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Second Chance Page 5

by T L Dasha


  My eyes scanned the bottles behind the bar, before finally landing on a bottle I recognized from Mr. McClintock’s shelf.

  “Whiskey on the rocks.” I spoke confidently as I pointed to the bottle behind her.

  “Sounds good.” She winked. “Can I see your ID, Hun?”

  I reached for my wallet, accidentally pulling out my employee badge alongside my ID. A mistake I would not soon forget.

  “You work for ALIVE Records?!” Her voice jumped up about ten octaves. “Can you get me an audition?!” She frantically grabbed for the bottle, then poured me a very generous glass. “This one’s on the house. I just moved out here from Indiana. It’s been tough, but I’m going to be hit as soon as someone gives me the chance. It’s just such a hard industry. But if you listen to me, I think you’ll understand what I mean.”

  Ugh. I smiled and nodded as she sang a quick verse. She was good in a typical way that a lot of people are good. Her vocal training was obvious. But it was boring. Nothing about her stood out. It was like she read the modern popstar playbook and was reciting the lines.

  I was here to get laid though, and she would definitely be an easy lay…

  No, my conscience wouldn’t survive if I gave someone that kind of false hope. Especially not when I would only be sleeping with her in a selfish effort to get my mind off sexually dominating my male colleague. That’s not fair to anyone involved.

  “Sorry, I’m just an intern. I don’t have any pull there yet.” I gave her a smile, then took the drink and left the bar, not wanting her to push further. Unfortunately, leaving the bar meant being confronted with the dance floor, and I’m not sure my chances were any better over there. I stared into a mass of bodies in various levels of dress and various levels of inebriation. The women were all attractive. The men, largely desperate. I watched as a typical bro tried to work his way into a circle of women who were dancing together, only to get shut down by their aggressive mama bear. Another woman was biting her lip as she rubbed her backside against a man who, I’m fairly certain, was penetrating her under her skirt in the middle of the room.

  Classy place.

  With another sigh, I found an unmanned booth and took a seat. I didn’t have the social skills or the desire to approach any of these people. How was this going to work exactly?

  I sipped down what must have been about four shots of whiskey entirely too quickly, then I ordered another. I’d need to be drunk to go through with this.

  The waitress returned with my drinks. She could have been an exact carbon copy of the bartender, just with brown hair instead of blonde.

  “Here’s your drink.” She set down a glass of whiskey and a shot of something else. “And this is a little something extra, just for you.” She winked. I’m sure the bartender had told her who I was, and now the whole staff was trying to butter me up. If it’s this annoying to be an intern, I can’t imagine what it’s like to actually be successful.

  Whatever. May as well enjoy it.

  The shot tasted pretty good. It was a clear, menthol-esque liquid that I couldn’t begin to identify. I downed it and returned to my whiskey. The whiskey was harsh at first, but it was starting to grow on me. It didn’t seem to be getting me drunk though. I took another sip, then stood up to try to feign interest in dancing.

  Alright, nevermind. Scratch that. The whiskey was definitely getting me drunk. Every woozy step and movement made that very clear. My dancing was extremely short lived before I stumbled into a bathroom stall and propped myself up against the wall to stabilize myself. I was mid-piss when my phone started buzzing in my pocket.

  “Yes. Thissiz Jay.”

  “Holy shit, are you drunk?” The perfect pitch of laughter on the other end of the phone could only be Brad. I cleared my throat and took a deep breath to try to shake off my stupor and sound at least marginally professional.

  “What d’you want?” Better. But not great.

  More laughter. “Oh man, where the hell are you?”

  “I’m at the Rage Cage.” I rolled my eyes. It’s not like that meant anything to him. He’s not even old enough to go to a club.

  “That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard.”

  “So judgmental. And you didn’t answer my question. Why’re you calling me?” Slowly but surely, my lips were figuring out how to speak with minimal slurring.

  “Right.” More of his chuckles filled the other line. “I had an idea for a new song, and I guess I got overly excited about it and wanted to tell you right away. It can wait ‘til tomorrow though.”

  Somehow, his amusement annoyed me. No one laughs at Jay McClintock. “Let me hear it.”

  “Right now?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m not going to sing to you over the phone.”

  “Fine, then pick me up.” I was surprised by my own words. I didn’t want him to pick me up. Not right now. Well, that’s not true. I wanted him to pick me up more than anyone, and that’s precisely why I was on this mission in the first place. My drunk subconscious wasn’t doing a strong job of lying for me. I was way too drunk to be dealing with clients. Particularly this client.

  But before I could correct myself, his voice buzzed in my ear. “On my way.”

  Then he hung up without another word.

  Shit. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and used muscle memory to get my pants zipped and buckled. What was I so worried about? He doesn’t even own a car. Plus, he lives in Oxnard. That’s over an hour away at best. What’s he going to do- pick me up at a bus stop? It’s almost midnight. I don’t think the buses are even running anymore.

  Yeah, I’m good. Brad is ridiculous.

  I returned to my booth and took a few more sips of whiskey, figuring I may as well kill whatever remaining inhibitions I had. I don’t think I could fuck up any more than I already had at this point. I’d just get myself trashed and ride the buzz the rest of the night.

  He’s for sure not going to come here.

  The blaring techno almost started to sound like real music, as I made my way onto the dance floor again. I twirled a pretty Asian girl, but she didn’t stick around for long. An older woman and a tiny brunette were quick to take her place with some swaying and grinding.

  “Where are you staying tonight?” The older woman yelled over the music as her friend moved behind me. She was probably about forty five, but her energy and rhythm far out matched the rest of the floor.

  “Home. I live with my dad.” God, what the fuck, Jay. You’re trying to hit this, and you sound like a child.

  Before I could redeem myself, she smiled and moved in closer. “We live just around the block if you want to stop in before you head home to daddy. We even have a hot tub.” Her breath tickled my ear. “We can warm up and have a good time.”

  “Alright.” I nodded through closed eyes. I didn’t want to think about it too much. I’d say no if I did. Instead, I just continued to let the music control my movements.

  A couple more songs, and a couple more unintended drinks later, it seemed hard to keep my eyes open at all. I wanted little more than to bail. I could go home, curl up in my bed, maybe fall asleep listening to Brad’s latest.

  God. Fucking. Dammit. Stop thinking about him.

  I need to get this over with. Get it all out of my system. That’s the only way I’ll be able to work with Brad without fantasizing about him every three minutes. This is still a solid plan. Increasingly nauseating, but solid.

  The older woman took me by the hand as the bartender made last call, and the three of us made our way out of the front entrance. I followed along, though at 2:00AM, I’ll admit I was officially much more interested in sleeping than fucking.

  Meep meep

  A ridiculous noise snapped me out of my daze. I stopped in my tracks to scan the area. Then I heard it again.

  Meep meep

  “That guy’s waving at you.” The brunette told me, pointing toward a guy sitting on a little pink scooter. It wasn’t even a Vespa. It was like a Chinese kn
ock-off of a Chinese knock-off. Why would someone like that be waving at me?

  “Jay!” And then I heard Brad’s voice. “I’m here to pick you up, remember?”

  Fuck. It had been over two hours since I last talked to him. I thought I was in the clear. I looked frantically between my two would-be hosts.

  Brad dismounted his scooter and came over to us. He was wearing a silly red half helmet, made more ridiculous with its white racing stripe, and a brown leather jacket. “Are these friends of yours, Jay Jay?”

  Jay Jay? Seriously? This better not become a thing.

  It seemed that he was making his voice extra friendly. Like a subtle way of announcing his personal connection with me, in case these people were trying to kidnap me or something.

  “They’re uh…” I was at a loss for words. How am I supposed to answer that? ‘Oh, yeah, let me introduce you. This is Miss Cougar and Miss Club Bunny. We’re just going to have sex real quick so I can stop thinking about all the filthy things I want to do to you. Nothing to see here.’

  “We were just heading home. Not trying to get in the middle of any drama.” The older woman interrupted with exaggerated annoyance. “Let’s go, Clara.”

  After a whole night of tolerating them, just like that, the ladies dispersed. What a waste of patience. And now I was standing alone on the sidewalk with Brad. The first and last person I wanted to see. I no longer had a chance of getting laid tonight.

  “Sorry it took so long. My old girl isn’t the fastest little scoot. I had to take backroads the whole way, since it’s not highway legal.” He laughed sheepishly as he rubbed the back of his neck. I can’t believe he came all this way on that little scooter. And on back roads? How did that seem worth it?

  “I didn’t expect you to actually come.” I was outwardly annoyed and inwardly relieved to see him at the same time. “I hope you know you just completely cock blocked me.” My plan was to shake a finger at him, but just lifting my arm to shake it threw me off balance, and I instead stumbled into him. He instinctively steadied me with his arms.

  His body shook lightly from laughter. “I never would have taken you for such a party animal. Do you spend all of your Friday nights playing with cougars?”

  “Of course not. I was… I mean, I guess that is what I was doing, but…” I only got more and more frustrated the more I tried to justify it. “It’s not like I want to be here… I was only doing this to take my mind off of you.” Those vibrating chuckles got harder, coming in short pulses. That’s about the time it dawned on me that I had just said that out loud. It suddenly seemed near impossible to differentiate between my spoken words and my silent thoughts. Great work, Jay. This is absolutely not what I need right now.

  “Oooh, Jay Jay. Such a lightweight.” Yep. This is going to become a thing. He patted me on the back, while I could feel his smile in my hair. He tightened his hug and whispered. “I came here because I couldn’t get my mind off of you either.”

  It was so soft, I nearly didn’t hear him at all. But I’m certain that’s what he said. Or maybe I just wanted that to be what he said.

  With that, he gave me two solid pats on the back then wrenched me upright, placing his hands on each of my shoulders for stability. “Do you think you can hang on?” Brad motioned to his little pink scooter.

  “To that?”

  “No, silly.” He ruffled my hair, then moved in close to whisper in my ear again. “To me. You have to promise you won’t let go.”

  “I would never let go of you.” My face flushed a new shade of burgundy as I heard my own words in my ears. I couldn’t find any of the ability or willpower to hide it anymore. Brad grinned back at me, reassuring and collected. Why am I so lame while he’s always so cool?

  He walked over to his scooter and pulled a spare helmet from the trunk under the seat. Amusement danced in his eyes as he strapped the pink lid onto my head. I can’t believe I’m really going to do this.

  “Let’s go!” His sing song voice was impossible to say no to. He fired up the single cylinder engine, and all eight horsepower puttered to life. I threw a leg over the peeling leather seat and placed my hands on his shoulders. It felt like I had a sewing machine between my legs.

  “Now what do I do?” This is so awkward.

  “Hold on to me.”

  “Like this?” I placed my hands on his shoulders. He laughed at me again.

  “What will you do if we hit a big bump at high speed and your hands go flying off my shoulders?”

  “High speed? On this? You mean 30 miles an hour?”

  “Exactly. Put them around my waist.” Brad grabbed my hands and repositioned them on his hips. “Just squeeze me a little tighter if you get scared.”

  With one last pat of my leg, he shifted the scooter off its center stand and started off down Sunset Boulevard. Somehow, even just the speed limit felt fast sitting on the back of the bike. It was such a different sensation from driving in a car. And I’ve been very, very fast in a car.

  “This is amazing.” I was laughing through my words. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like it.”

  “You’ve never ridden a bike before?” Brad called back to me over the sound of the wind.

  “No, my parents always told me they were too dangerous. I used to race karts though.”

  “I always wanted a kart! But we couldn’t afford them. Do you still race?”

  “N-no.” I squeezed Brad as he pulled onto Mulholland Drive. “I quit after my dad died.”

  “Ah… sorry.”

  “Where are we going?” I watched that familiar blacktop roll past us. I squeezed tighter.

  “Ha- I guess instinct kicked in and I started heading home.” He gave my thigh another pat. “Where do you live? I can take you back to your own house.”

  “This is fine. I just… haven’t been up this way in a while.” I can do this. It’ll be fine.

  “It’s a fun road! Let me show you.”

  I nodded against him, then buried my face in his shoulder, focusing on the scent of his rosemary cologne and his leather jacket. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d been up this road a million times. I wanted even less to tell him the turn up ahead was where my dad went off the road. He didn’t need to know that.

  The warmth of his back gave me comfort as he threw his scooter into each turn.

  “You okay back there?” His voice brought my focus back to the road. “You’re squeezing pretty hard.”

  I wanted to loosen my grip, but as he swept through that corner and my eyes caught the sight of the cliff side, I couldn’t fight my instinct. My fingers dug into his coat, and I closed my eyes tightly. He pulled off on the overlook and turned off the scooter.

  “Hey. Are you okay?” Brad’s voice was more stern this time. I relaxed my grip, and sat up straight, creating the smallest amount of distance between us. I didn’t realize how much I was shaking until I we had come to a stop. He rocked his scooter onto its stand, then I hopped off the back, and he dismounted.

  Brad threw an arm around my shoulders. It was a small gesture, but it instantly filled me with a sense of calm. “Did I scare you?”

  “I said I’m fine.” I averted my eyes.

  “Don’t give me that. You’re still shaking. What’s wrong?”

  “No.” Not even thorough inebriation was enough to make this road easier for me. Still, I was surprised by my own reaction. How little control I had over it. I thought I’d be able to face this road one day, but I was a complete mess just standing here. I was so weak. “Dad would be disappointed in me.”

  “Your dad?” Brad released my shoulder, and turned to face me. Dammit, I didn’t mean to say that out loud, either. I’m never drinking again.

  Unfair. I let out a sigh. Against my better judgement, instead of shutting down, I found myself talking. “My dad used to take me up here a lot.”

  “I see.” Brad’s playful expression disappeared as my words sunk in.

  “I was in the car when he went off. Right there.” I
pointed to the corner. “It’s probably still down there.”

  “I see.”

  We both stood in silence for several minutes. Finally, Brad’s voice penetrated the night. “Sorry, I… I didn’t know.”

  “I always wondered how I’d react if I came back here. It’s usually far enough away that I never think about it anymore.” I tried to laugh, but it sounded as forced as it was. My eyes were more teary than tough. “I guess it still haunts me a bit.”

  I barely finished my sentence when I found myself locked into an embrace. Brad squeezed me against him, tightly enough to force my pieces back together. Tightly enough to feel safe. Tightly enough to feel… loved. Like he cared. I let my hands find his back, and I let him rest his chin on my shoulder. It was a hug that I never wanted to end.

  When he finally let me go, I resented the cool air that had now come between us.

  “Well, now I feel like a real dick. We can take the bus back tomorrow. The bus can use the highway.”

  “I had to face it someday anyway.” I shrugged. The last thing I wanted was for Brad to feel bad. “Next step will be to conquer it.”

  That seemed to lighten the mood.

  “Maybe you should try it on my scooter.” His lips upturned. “I’ll teach you to ride it. If you can conquer this road on a scooter, you can conquer it on anything.”

  “Right now?”

  “No!” He laughed and gave me a pat on the shoulder. “But maybe tomorrow.”

  “Deal.” We sealed the contract in a handshake. “It’s the least you can do to pay me back for all the time I’m putting into you!”

  “Ha!” Brad motioned to remount. “I’ll be in debt to you for that for the rest of my life at this rate.”

  “You’re damn right you will.”

  Chapter 6

  Brad Garza

  We finished the ride back to Garza con Gandules, and I parked in my spot behind the tool shed. My room was in the guest house connected to the restaurant, a small single bedroom structure with the bare minimum of creature comforts. I used the restaurant kitchen for any cooking, and the garage bathroom for showers. My parents stayed in the main house in the back of the property, on the other side of the alfalfa fields. It was a five minute scooter ride when I needed to visit.

 

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