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Someone.
A woman at the bar. She was short —barely five-foot-two— standing up on her tiptoes trying to get the busy bartender’s attention. It wasn’t working.
It was a Friday night, which meant the bar was packed. A younger crowd was taking the place of the early group, all dressed to the nines with the intention of pre-gaming before heading off to the local clubs to dance and mingle and whatever it was kids these days got up to.
I normally wouldn’t pay her any mind, but she stood out like a sore thumb. While all the other young women here wore tight, revealing dresses of brightly colored fabric and sparkly sequins, she was in a… navy blazer?
Her dark black hair was up in a sensible bun, baby hairs loose near the nape of her neck. A practical leather messenger bag was slung over her shoulder. She was facing away, so I couldn’t get the whole picture, but I figured she must have been at least in her mid-thirties.
Was the poor woman lost or something?
I heard her voice before I ever saw her face.
“Please?” she asked, desperation in her voice. “I just need to borrow your phone for two seconds to check on my friend. I swear I’m not going to run off with it or anything.”
Light. Soft. Angelic.
She made my ex-wife sound like an out of tune tuba in comparison.
I’d never heard someone speak with such effortless eloquence before. She wasn’t shy, just soft-spoken. I gravitated toward her without realizing. I wondered if she was as beautiful as she sounded.
A man sidled up to her by the bar, one elbow resting on the edge of the counter. A real slimeball of a character. He was decked out in black, greasy hair styled with way too much gel. “Hey, little lady,” he greeted. “Let me buy you a drink.”
“No, thank you. I’m just looking to borrow a phone.”
“You can borrow my phone if you’d like.”
“Really?”
“Sure. In exchange for your number.”
The woman stepped back. “On second thought, I think I’ll manage.”
“Come on, baby. Don’t be like that.” The slimeball put a hand on her hip and attempted to pull her close.
She shoved him hard. “Piss off!”
He grabbed her wrist. “How’d you know I like ‘em feisty?”
My nostrils flared. I had no idea who this woman was, but I knew I needed to step in.
I closed the distance between us in four long strides, inserting myself between the creep and woman in question. He looked none too pleased, but I wasn’t worried. I had years of de-escalation training under my belt; one of the many perks of being the owner of a personal security firm.
Even if this did escalate to a fight, I could take him. My years serving with the Army taught me how to handle myself in combat. I wouldn’t break a sweat over something as measly as a fistfight in a bar. Hell, we weren’t even in the same weight class. The guy would be an idiot if he thought he could take me.
“What gives, bro?” he sneered. “Can’t you see I was talking to her?”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Last time I checked,bro, no still means no.”
He got right up in my face, puffing his chest out in a laughable attempt to intimidate me. “We gonna have a problem, old man?”
I mirrored his stance, looking down my nose at him. “I don’t know. Are we?”
He tried to stare me down, but I didn’t budge. Just as I expected, he was the first to relent.
“Fucking whatever,” he grumbled, turning away. He slunk off, tail between his legs.
Only once I was certain the coast was clear, I turned to the woman. “Are you okay, miss—”
