Page 22 of Phoenix Rising

Lucinda wanted to die from the vulgarity, but she wanted to drink more. She brought herself to the bar and sat in one of the lime-green bar chairs.

A man with bleached silver-blond hair rolled up to her with a blue neon name tag that read "Artie." Wait, was he wearing roller skates?

"Welcome to Battle Catt—oh. You look like you need a drink, baby," he said, his silver earrings jangling as he turned toward the liquor. "What's your poison?"

"Martini, please. Or just a shot. I couldn't care either way." Lucinda sighed.

He laughed as he went to grab the gin on the medium shelf. "Hard day, Ms. England?"

"Top shelf, Mr. America." She was not about todrown her sorrows with shitty gin. "More like a disastrous day."

"I can tell. You're in here trying to take a shot at 3:30 in the afternoon." He measured out the gin before pouring it into a shaker. "You want to talk about it?"

"Isn't that a bit of a cliché? Telling the bartender all of your problems instead of a therapist?"

Artie smiled. "If it helps, I'm just really fucking nosy and want to know everyone's business. I'm not about to help ya or anything."

Lucinda laughed. "Before we talk about me, can you tell me why this place is themed like this?"

Artie looked around, confused. "Like what?"

"Uh, well…"

"I'm just screwin' with you. The owners couldn't decide what theme they wanted." He poured the shaker into a pink martini glass. "The missus wanted 70s; Fred wanted farmhouse. Yada-yada." He pushed the drink over to her. "Your turn."

Lucinda wouldn't usually tell her personal business to any stranger off the street, but who was she supposed to tell? Her colleagues? Her parents?

Hey, Mum, I might have snogged my bloody peerjust two days living here. And we probably would have fucked on her desk if we hadn't been interrupted!

Yeah, that would go well. She downed the martini in two gulps and tapped its base.

"I'll need another one of these."

Artie chuckled and turned to make her a second drink.

Lucinda proceeded to tell this poor bartender everything that had been happening to her: London, the breakup, the job, Becky. Everything poured from her mouth as steadily as Artie kept pouring the gin. He even took a shot after hearing about her steamy office session with Becky.

"That's kinda hot," Artie said after the liquor went down. "The fact that she wouldn't kiss you until you said her name."

Lucinda raised an eyebrow. "Are you supposed to be drinking on the job?"

"No, but my shift is over, and I decided I gotta catch up to you. Wait here." He roller-skated through the kitchen doors, and when he returned, he was wearing normal sneakers.

"You like pizza, Dr. England?"

"Lucinda," she corrected. "Yes, I do. Why?"

"You aren't done with your story yet, and I'mstarving. My treat." Artie walked through the bar, leading her out.

Lucinda shuffled behind him, the gin making her steps wobbly. "Do you normally befriend and kidnap your customers, sir?"

"Call me Artie." He smirked. "You can leave whenever you want. It just sounded like you needed a friend."

"It's really not wise to befriend random men you just met who also know you just moved here with no one."

Artie scoffed. "I am not interested in you, doll. I'm gayer than a pink leather pinata."

Lucinda snorted, the alcohol making her feel bold.

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