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It was too early for the trendy bars to be busy, and since Josh was a patron of many of them, he didn’t feel it wise to hunt there. So, he drove to the seediest section of the city and found what looked like a run-down bar with a few cars parked in front of it. Before leaving his car, he turned the rearview mirror to look at his reflection.
The wash-out brunette hair spray coloring changed his looks. Before, he’d describe himself as afit, honey-brown/blonde, green-eyed man with great teeth and a lot of charm.
Now, he looked like someone entirely different. He did wish the dark contact lenses didn’t make his eyes feel so dry, but he wouldn’t have to wear them all night.
Satisfied that no one would recognize him as Josh Richards, he got out of his car and headed for the door. He knew he was in the right place when he opened the door. This was a dump.
The awful lighting made the place look worse. Old fashioned florescent fixtured housing featured more than a couple of flicking bulbs and competed with old neon beer signs. He wondered if anyone in the place was aware of just how unflattering this horrible lighting was to every person there.
Not that it mattered, he supposed. He wasn’t looking for a wife. Just a practice partner. It didn’t take long to spot one. Sitting alone at the end of the bar where she could see people enter, her face lit in a smile the moment he glanced her way.
“Is this seat taken?” He knew full well it wasn’t, but he needed to play the seduction game if he was going to convince her to do what he wanted.
“Not right now.”
“May I?”
“Sure,” her smile bumped up a notch.
“Thanks.” He cut a look at the bartender and motioned for him, then turned his attention to the woman. “I’m Shawn. Can I buy you a drink?”
“Hi, Shawn, I’m Crystal, and sure.”
He returned the smile, already starting to warm up to Crystal as he contemplated what was in store for her tonight. “What can I get’cha?” the bartender asked.
Josh looked at Crystal, who shrugged. “Whatever you’re having is fine.”
“Tequila, top shelf.”
“Salt and lime?”
“Just lime. And bring the bottle.”
“That’ll run you one fifty.”
Josh reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He wasn’t fool enough to use his credit or debit cards. He pulled off two hundred in twenties and handed them to the bartender.
One of the things he’d learned was that large denomination bills were tracked. If you got hundreds from the bank, there was a record. He wasn’t about to take any chances, so he’d been getting sixty to one hundred dollars in cash once a week. He figured that would simply appear like someone who wanted some pocket cash. Some walking around money.
After all, there were instances when cash was the preferred payment method, like this bar. He’d be willing to bet that more than one patron had found themselves the victim of fraudulent credit card charges.
The bartender didn’t bother to count; he folded the bills and shoved them into his pocket. Josh turned his attention to Crystal. “So, what brings you here tonight, Crystal?”
“Boredom?” she said in a self-deprecating tone. “You?”
“Just thought I’d have a drink before heading out of town.”
“Oh, you have to leave on business?”
“No,” he paused as the bartender delivered the unopened bottle, two shot glasses, and a bowl of lime wedges.
“Enjoy.”
Josh ignored the man, opened the bottle, and filled two glasses. He handed one to Crystal and then raised his own. “To new friends.”
“New friends,” she clicked her glass to his, drank the shot, bit into a slice of lime, and blew out a breath. “Oh yeah, that’s good.”
“Then have another.”
