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The bar smells like fermented beer and missed opportunity. I wanted to surprise her at the B&B we’d organized for our time in Dingle. I wanted to kiss her senseless and fuck her until she forgot her name. Yet here I am, in a seedy dive bar, searching the crowd for the mess of brown hair I’ve missed more than anything.
I called her the moment I had reception.
She declined every phone call.
I messaged herthousandsof times as I made my way to her.
She left every last one unread.
I emailed her explaining what the fuck happened.
I was met with silence.
I spot her within the space in seconds.
A smile as big as Texas on her face, fingers clasped to a shot glass like a lifeline as she shoots the clear liquid, slamming the glass down forcefully. “Whoa!” she yells.
It’s the cluster of guys around her that spike my already fired temper.
“What can I getcha?”
I pull my eyes reluctantly from my girlfriend.
“Whiskey on the rocks. Two of ’em.”
The barkeep nods, sliding my drinks over a second later.
“She’s somethin’ else, eh?” He gestures toward Henley, his Irish accent holding onto the words with lust in his eyes.
I want to put my fist through his face.
“You know her?”
He lifts his chin. “She works ’ere.”
My brow furrows. “Since when?”
His smile falters at the bite in my tone. “A month?”
“She got a man?” My heart seizes as I ask the question.
He shrugs. “Says she does. But I ain’t ever seen the guy.”
I swallow my first drink in one solid gulp.
“She do this often?”
He looks up from wiping the bar. “Do what?”
I scowl in his direction. “Drink herself to oblivion and surround herself with every horny fucker in the building?”
Tucking the cloth in the waist of his pants, he crosses his arms over his chest. “Whassit to you?”
I pick up my second drink. “Just curious.”
He thinks for a moment, eyes set on Henley as she laughs loudly. “She actually might very well be the saddest person I’ve ever met.”
That gives me pause.
