Page 22 of Last First Date

Someone called out, distracting him. He drifted away to get their drinks. I slowly turned the glass back and forth in my hand, staring through the liquid to the bottom. No one wanted to hear a rich dude complain about how much his life sucked. I had been taught that from an early age. In the grand scheme of things, my problems weren't really problems. I was living in a mansion and searching for one to buy. I had money, power, and looks. I was pouting because I couldn't have my way.

I knew what my grandfather would say if I tried to plead my case to him again. He was going to tell me this was a great place to raise a family. That would lead to the lecture about my bachelorhood and his insistence I should be looking for a woman I could settle down with.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. My grandfather was old school. He didn't understand things were different these days. We didn't all go out and get married by twenty and have a big family by thirty. I was taking the time to enjoy life and the freedom of being single.

My self-pity was interrupted when the bartender slammed his hand on the bar with a resounding thud. "I've got it! You're that pretty boy underwear model! My girlfriend had photos of you in her dorm room."

I winced but didn't try to deny it. "That was a long time ago."

"Shit, not that long ago. I didn't know you were from this area."

"I kept it a pretty big secret," I said.

"Is that why you like New York?"

"What do you mean?"

"In New York, I bet you're recognized all the time. You get the red carpet rolled out for you wherever you go."

"Not anymore." I laughed. "I have a few spots that I get the royal treatment, but that's not what I miss. It's just a different vibe. There is so much more excitement. There is something to do every night. And of course, there are a lot of beautiful women."

"There's a lot of everything in New York," he said.

"Exactly," I agreed, leaning back on the bar stool. "That's what I love about it."

“But you're back here," he pointed out. "I would say you make the best of it. I know my old shack isn't exactly some Manhattan nightclub, but liquor is liquor. And really, aren't you a little old to be hanging out in nightclubs with a bunch of twenty-somethings?"

"You're only as old as you feel," I said. "I don't feel old. The ladies keep me young."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Hell, Knox, it must be rough to be you. I don't know how you sleep at night with all the stress."

I chuckled, swirling the ice in my glass. "A lot of expensive scotch and occasional insomnia. It's not all glitz and glamour."

"I suppose there is a certain pressure in maintaining that reputation," he mused. "Your family are all pillars of the community. They are always hosting this or that. I think they must sponsor half the Little League teams in town."

"Yeah," I admitted. "He built an empire, and I have some very big shoes to fill."

"Like I said earlier, you could have it worse," he pointed out, pouring himself a glass of cheap beer from the tap. "So, you bear a legacy, shoulder the weight of an empire, so what? You've got all the resources in the world to make it work."

"I understand where you're coming from," I replied. "But just because someone puts a golden crown on your head doesn't mean it’s not heavy. Fame, money, influence? They are privileges, sure, but they also come as a cage."

"Ah, the classic tale of the gilded cage." He smiled.

"Dude, just tell me to shut up." I laughed. "I'm a dick. Trust me, I know."

"I don't think you're a dick, I just think you're in the middle of a big change. No one likes change. It sucks. But I think if you make the best of it, it's not so bad. You can't dwell on the negative."

"You're right. I'll shut up. Nothing is going to change for a long time. I hope."

"What does that mean?"

"My grandfather made me promise not to make any big changes. I'll respect that."

"You mean until he's no longer here to see what you've done?"

I nodded. "Exactly. And I have no desire to lose my grandparents, so I'm in it for the long haul."

“Then I look forward to being your friendly neighborhood bartender.” He grinned. “I’m Alex. I hope you’ll come by again.”