Page 32 of Finding Our Reality

I glance to the side, seeing that no other barstools are available, I get up, offering mine to Lulu.

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t come up here to steal your seat.”

“Lulu, sit down.”

She licks her lips and nods. Hopping her fine ass on the cushioned leather, she places her still-full Long Island Iced Tea on a paper coaster in front of her. It’s like she’s carrying around a security blanket. She crosses her legs, drawing my attention to the tight leggings covering her skin. She rubs the scar on her neck. “So, I wanted to talk to you about next week. I think it’s time we start conducting interviews.”

“You’re gonna completely ignore the conversation we just had.” I flip my arm back in the direction of the table we had been sitting at.

She bores a hole into me with her honey-glazed eyes. “Yes.”

The redness in them is finally gone, which is good. When I saw she had been crying, I wanted to crawl across glass and beg her for her forgiveness. That was, until she made me mad. Her earlier emotions left her eye makeup smudged and her hair lightly tangled. She looks like she just got fucked. Hard.

And it’s driving me into delirium.

“So, do you agree? We start interviews next week? Monday? I’ll be out of town Tuesday and Wednesday. I can work on the case Monday, Thursday, and Friday, though. You?”

I think of my upcoming schedule. “Monday, Thursday, and Friday are fine with me.”

She lifts her chin in the air. “Good.”

She’s about to say something else when someone taps my right shoulder. Lulu’s eyes darken to small beads and her lips thin. I turn sideways, feasting my eyes on a buxom blonde. She’s pretty. Looks a little too flashy for me, but attractive, nonetheless. She flashes a bright smile and cocks her head to the side.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but you look so familiar. Do we know each other?”

Holy shit. Did I sleep with this woman? I flip through my mental little black book, trying to place her. No. No, I definitely have never seen this woman before. “No, I don’t think so.” I chug my beer in relief. I sure as hell don’t need that kind of drama with Lulu sitting right here.

“Oh well, I guess you just have one of those faces.” She reaches out and touches my bicep, fondling me through my hoodie. “A kind face, you know?”

Lulu rolls her eyes so hard I worry she’ll fall right off the barstool. I try to hide my laugh with a fake cough. It doesn’t work. Scowling, Lulu spins around, pretending to watch the TV like Holt.

The girl giggles. “Would you like to get a fresh drink? Find somewhere quiet to talk?”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’m just gonna hang out with my friends tonight.”

Biting her lip, trying to be seductive, she slips away. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

Lulu looks over her shoulder. “Friends? Is that what we are?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. You said you were tired of me telling you what to think about me.”

She lifts her drink to her mouth, sniffs it, and then puts it back down. She turns her head. She tries not to smile. Really, she does. She’d be furious if she knew I saw her smile. “Not yet. Maybe one day.”

Holt slaps me across the chest. “C’mon, best buddy. Buy me a drink. You have a tab, right?”

Surprisingly, the three of us fall into an easy conversation, chatting about nothing, everything. I drink a few more beers, letting the buzz of the alcohol settle over me like a comforting blanket. Its warmth gives me promise, promise of things yet to come.

Maybe she’s right.

Maybe one day we can be friends again.

And who knows, maybe that will take us back to where we were. Her lips on mine. Her heart in mine. Take me back to the place I was a fool to leave.

But… I always do what I shouldn’t do. And I always mess things up.

I shouldn’t turn around when I hear the high-pitch squeal of my name. I shouldn’t turn around. But I do.

“Crutch!”

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