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There she was, pink-haired, in a black midriff, and Daisy Duke shorts. Liesel, the manic pixie dream girlfriend, walked in. She launched herself over the table, right across the British guy’s lap, and threw her arms around my neck.
She planted a kiss on my lips. No tongue, but all for the benefit of those around us. I knew that with an audience, her affection would be over-the-top. But I didn’t care. It was a small price to pay to get an itch scratched.
When she finally stood up straight, the Frenchman and the Brit’s eyes were large, their smiles amused. She ran a finger under her lip to fix any stray lipstick, then turned around to order a drink at the bar.
“Well,” The Brit raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think there was a girlfriend. I stand corrected.”
The Frenchman chuckled.
“Whatareyour names?“ I finally asked.
The Frenchman coughed. The Brit kicked him under the table.
“I’m Cian,” said the Brit with a light cough. His hesitance at the name was a dead giveaway that he was making it up. “This is…”
“Martin,” the Frenchman said, pursing his lips, daring Cian to challenge him.
“Martin.” Cian said with a sigh and roll of his eyes. There was some subtext that I wasn’t catching on to.
“Why this bar? The Four Green Fields?” Cian asked.
“Why not?” I shrugged. “My coach likes this place. It’s a nice hole in the wall.”
“The name is a song, you know?” he continued. “Written by Tommy Makem. The four green fields are symbolic of the four provinces of Ireland.”
Quinn was wiping the counter and stuttered in his movements. It was so light, I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it.
“That’s the whole Irish independence thing, right?” I asked.
He looked offended.
“Do you know nothing about the Troubles, lass?” Cian asked with a strong Irish accent, putting a hand to his heart.
“Believe it or not, it wasn’t a big deal in my part of the world,” I said dryly. “Don’t be so occidental.”
“Well, we’ll have to set that to rights, won’t we, Rose Marie?” He smiled, his natural British voice returning. “I like that name, by the way. Quite romantic, and lyrical.”
“Yeah, I was named after a song written in the 1920s,” I said, shrugging. “It’s from a movie.”
Cian snapped his fingers. “Yes! Sung by the baritone, Nelson Eddy.”
“That’s the one,” I said, shocked that he knew the song.
To my surprise, he got to his feet and started singing, loud and boisterous. “Oh Rose Marie, I love you. Of all the queens that ever lived, I choose you to rule me, Rose Marie!”
He stood during the final note long, and powerful. His voice was lovely, deep, and full. The bar agreed, as a smattering of applause could be heard as he sat back down.
I couldn’t help smiling at him. There was a twinkle in his blue eyes and a playfulness on his sensual lips. He had a way of making me forget what had just happened. It was a distraction I welcomed.
Liesel was at the bar, typing away at her phone. The underside crease of her ass was a little lower than the bottom of her cutoff shorts, and I stared at it in cheap appreciation. The guys around me did, too.
Liesel enjoyed the attention. I didn’t care for it, but it made her horny. She was an exhibitionist. Public displays were what got her primed.Maybe I should take her to the restroom…If I have to run away, I may as well get a quick fling out of it. It might be my last chance with her.
“Excuse me,” I said as I got up from my seat. The British guy stood and got out of my way.
“Going out for a smoke?” He fished into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Dunhill cigarettes.
“No, the lady’s room.” I grabbed Liesel by the hand. She quickly closed her phone screen and looked up, astonished, then sheepishly smiled at me.
