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3
ella
“I can’t believeMadison ditched us!” Carrie screams out over the loud chatter of people. Keg Gardens is the only place in town where you can drink outside, technically. They have a large open area lined with picnic tables. It always starts out as a nice, relaxing spot for the after work crowd, but by midnight it becomes a huge party. It’s a lot of fun.
“Of course she ditched us, she just got a new man.” I shrug as I nurse the beer Carrie had made me buy. She had dragged me out of my small apartment after I called her crying about the predicament I’m in.
I thought long and hard about how I am going to complete the task Sam had put in front of me. It’s just not possible. I’d never just make up a story and right now that is what I feel like he’s trying to make me do. I’m not like the other reporters in the pool. I want the facts, the hard truths that make people think. That’s what gets me excited to come to work everyday. Finding out which celebrity is cheating on their diet isn’t real news to me. I can’t force myself to do it.
“Still this is way more fun than sitting at home with some dude.” Carrie downs the rest of her margarita.
I raise my eyebrow and just stare at her waiting until she admits the truth to herself.
“Shit, you’re right. God, I miss dick.” She groans.
I laugh loudly, throwing my head back in the process. The world doesn’t move as fast as my head does and I have to hold on to the edge of the table until everything syncs up.
“Whoa, that’s freaky.” I mutter.
“Nope, no tapping out tonight. We’re going to drink until neither one of us remembers our problems.” Her being single and me about to lose my dream job. When I agreed to this plan earlier I didn’t think it had meant we would be willingly giving ourselves alcohol poisoning, but apparently that’s exactly what’s happening.
“I’m not tapping out. I’m no quitter.” I say trying to make my voice sound scarier than it is, instead all that comes out is a slightly slurred statement.
I get up and go to the bar to get my round of shots and beers. The floor wobbles more than I think it should.
I’m a few drinks away from being shitfaced. I know it, but that doesn’t mean I want to stop. The bar itself is swamped with other patrons trying to do the same exact thing I am. I’m too small to be seen over anyone, so I have to find a hole if I want to place my order.
My head swims again as I look down the long line of people. This is the last round, I swear it. A man in a dark suit jacket stands off to the side of the bar clearly waiting to be served as well, but there’s a small slice of space that I can squeeze into if I try.
My ass rubs against the man in the dark suit jacket and my skin tingles at the contact. Suddenly the conversation I had with Carrie earlier in the night about our lack of penile entertainment surges to the front of my mind.
“Pardon me.” The man grumbles out behind me.
I turn my head slightly and give him a tight nod as if it weren’t me that just invaded his space. I inhale through my nose and I get the slightest whiff of pencil shavings and a thunderstorm.
Oh cripes, this man smells like my wet dream come to life.
I turn my head just a bit, but not enough for him to realize I’m trying to check him out. He’s tall, even though I’m standing on the foot rest of the bar my head barely reaches his chin. He’s clean shaven, and his hair is perfectly combed away from his face. His chest is wide and his arms fill out the suit jacket letting me know that he’s built well underneath the fabric.
“What do ya need?” The bartender comes up to the both of us.
“Um, can I have two shots and two Sam Adams.” I say as loud as I can.
He nods and looks over my shoulder to the man. “I’ll have a whisky neat.”
I should have known he’d order something like that. Sexy, sophisticated, and did I mention sexy. Nothing like the immature boys occupying this space tonight.
The bartender nods his head and walks off to get our drinks. I look up into the mirror behind the bar and find that Mr. Tall and sophisticated is staring at me as I check him out. I’m stopped short by some of the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen on a human being that I didn’t see on a fantasy program.
“Someone ripped you off a magazine cover.”
“Excuse me?” His deep voice responds and I watch the mirror in horror as my face turns cherry red.
I said that outloud. Of course I did. I clear my throat and look away, these drinks are getting to me way more than I thought they were. The man behind me doesn’t say another word and I feel myself slanting further and further back trying to get another smell of the gorgeous man behind me.
“Two shots and the Sam Adams?” The bartender says as he makes his way back over with my drinks. I pull out my card and hand it to the bartender. I hold the two beers in one hand and the two shots sit on the bartop waiting for me to pick them up. I unintentionally look back up into the mirror only to find the guy behind me looking down I’m assuming into his phone.
He’s gorgeous, exactly the type of guy that would never look twice at me. I tilt my head slightly trying to commit his face to memory. Something about him seems vaguely familiar, but in my intoxicated state I don’t have the brain power to piece together where I might have seen him.
