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“Hey.” Sam poked a sharp elbow at Joe’s ribs. “I hope you’re not getting any ideas. She’s my daughter and you’re twice her age.”
Joe rubbed over his hurt ribs. “No, I’m not. She’s eighteen. I’m thirty-five. Makes me only seventeen years older.”
“This is the first time I’m hearing you get a simple subtraction sum wrong. Or is your dick interfering with your calculator? You’re twice her age minus one year, Parker.”
“Okay, you’re right. I am older. But she’s a grown woman, Sam.”
“And she’s my daughter.” Sam repeated with emphasis.
Oh, dear heavens. Let’s hope this wasn’t the start of another feud between the boys over a girl.
Before I could mediate like I usually did, Joe’s hand on my forearm stopped me, reassuring me he would handle it pacifically.
“Look, Sam. I don’t want to mess up everything between us again. So here I am, asking for your permission. May I invite your daughter Stella for one drink with me at the bar right across the room where you can perfectly see us and make sure my arm doesn’t accidentally bump hers or even touch another part of her body?”
Sam sighed. “One drink. Preferably water so there’s no chance you forget who her father is. He’s your boss.” Sam concluded with a steady threatening finger pointed at Joe.
“Shit. I haven’t thought of it that way..”
The slight slant of Sam’s head urged Joe to scurry off before he changed his mind.
Sam’s eyes remained trained on Joe all the way to Stella and all throughout their short conversation before Joe escorted the lady to the bar. Joe was all chivalrous – pulling a stool out for her and offering his hand to help her up on the same stool.
I hadn’t even realized that Sam had slipped away from my side. In his extra vigilant mode, Sam blended through the crowd as he made his way stealthily to the other end of the bar. His eyes never waivered from the new lovebirds. Not even when he flicked a finger at the barman and gave him his order.
From my angle afar, I noticed Joe shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He had obviously spotted Sam over Stella’s shoulder.
Way to ruin their one drink with your intimidation, Sam.
My turn to save Joe now.
Without giving a damn about how Sam barely regarded me, I made my way over to him either way.
I pushed the stool closest to Sam out of the way and stood there myself, purposely obscuring his line of sight. Dropping my golden clutch bag on the bar, I crossed my arms underneath my breasts and matched his scowl. “No need for any menacing glares, you know. You’re flustering him.”
“She’s my daughter.” Sam said while craning his neck to look over my head.
“And she’s an adult with feelings too. Why don’t you go to the opposite end of this bar and stare at Stella instead? Maybe that way you can see the stupidly huge grin on your daughter’s face. Don’t you see she likes him too? Let them have their drink. Besides, they’re in public. What could he possibly do? Take her clothes off right here?”
The second I finished the last word, Sam’s eyes darted to my face. Then fell down to my lips and down to my breasts pushed up above my crossed arms. “He might.”
I felt completely exposed to his lingering gaze. It was as ifhewas the one underdressingme.Sam sitting on a stool and me standing on my heels made our faces precisely aligned. His eyes, as dark as the midnight skies, bore into my own, luring me to inch towards him and making me long to close our distance. There came the goosebumps and the skin crawl at that warm fantasy. Till I remembered my own spoken words. We were in public. And in front of his parents. Specifically, his mother Dora who was strategically standing angled towards us across the room, intently following my exchange with her son. Like Sam, Dora was watching over her beloved kid.
Okay, that’s it. I surrender to a night doomed with neverending awkwardness. But first…
I swivelled towards the bar, flicking my fingers to get the barman’s attention. “I’m getting us cocktails.”
“No.” Sam interjected a little too quickly. “Just a scotch for me.”
I knew what brought on his rushed answer. Cocktails reminded him of our time together. And to ease the burden of those memories for myself too, I ordered the strongest cocktail. No specific fancy names. Just the strongest that the barman was capable of mixing. My sanity for the rest of the evening was in this young man’s hands.
While I watched the barman prepare the drinks, I was getting a bout of jitters. Bits and pieces of what I had rehearsed to tell Sam came back to mind. I was almost shivering from the sudden mix-up of emotions. For heaven’s sake, this was crazy. Would standing next to Sam ever feel less… electrifying? Should I just blurt out how I feel, or should I just leave and forget all our memories? Sam sure didn’t seem thrilled to be in my company. It was inevitable not to notice him shifting unnervingly in his seat.
When the waiter set our drinks before us, Sam picked up his whiskey glass. He sipped on it slowly, taking an extra second to roll the liquid in his mouth and savour its taste. What a perfect unnecessary prolonged excuse to ignore me.
I had already made more than one mistake with Sam in the past. Being a coward certainly wasn’t an option now. And I won’t be one again.
My elevated anxiety triggered me to steal the glass from his hand and force him to look at me. “Would you really want to work with me after…”
