Page 21 of In a Pinch

“What’s up, brother? No class today?” Theo smiles as he carries a case of beer to the front.

“No class for the holiday. Apparently, just because I think it’s stupid doesn’t mean the couples in the class won’t want to celebrate. Anyways, I wound up here.” I shrug.

Setting the beer down on the bar next to the freshly washed glasses, he pipes in, “Figured you’d stroll in sooner or later. You ever going to stop being an unapproachable ass, so you can find yourself a girlfriend and quit hanging around?”

“I don't need a girlfriend. And if you’d like, I’d be happy to take my business elsewhere.” I pretend to turn around, but we both know the threat is empty.

“You may not need a girlfriend, but you do need to get laid. It would probably help remove that giant stick up your ass.” He laughs at his own joke, which I’d like to say isn’t a normal occurrence, but no one thinks Theo is funnier than Theo himself.

Never mind about this being my go-to spot; I hate it here.

“Yeah, Theo, I’m going to need you to fuck off, and while you’re at it, grab me my beer.” I finally make my way to my stool, which scrapes as I slide it across the floor to sit.

Between the stress of teaching that stupid class—which isn’t as stupid as I thought, but I refuse to admit otherwise aloud—and the usual family bullshit, I need a beer. And probably to get laid. It’s been longer than I want to admit. What has it been, six months? A year?

Could I get laid? Yes. Linsey from work has made it abundantly clear she would like to have some extra time withme. One, I don’t mix work and pleasure. Two, she’s a level-five clinger, and I would have literally nowhere to hide from her. It wouldn’t matter if I told her I didn’t see anything between us, that woman must be a medium because she sees things no one else does. In cooking terms, we would be oil and water. We do not mix.

Theo pours my beer and slides it across the bar top. “Anything new and exciting going on?”

“Pretty much the usual. My boss is making my life hell, and my dad is still a raging asshole.” I sigh and take a drink, and then another. And another.

“Still hasn’t come around to you not wanting to be a corporate bunny, eh?”

“Nope, he continues to beat the dead horse.”

“Who’s beating a horse?” A familiar voice floats through the bar.

Well, great. I can’t run from this shit literally anywhere.

Looking from Addie and then back over to me, Theo says, “Haven’t seen you around here before. Judging by grumpy pants over here, you two must know each other?” Theo nods toward me as he asks.

“Oh, yes, Prince Charming over here loves when I rain on his parade simply by existing in the same place as him.” She puts on a bland smile and pinches her face in my direction.

“Anyone that can ruffle his feathers this easily gets a drink on me.” His grin broadens, as if he just found another tool to add to his arsenal of ways to irritate me.

“You mean to tell me there are times his feathers aren’t ruffled?” She gives me a shocked look and brings her hand to her chest to add to the theatrics.

“Add her drinks to my tab. Can’t have her thinking I'm the devil incarnate.” Why am I offering to buy her drinks?

“So, that was quite some family dinner yesterday. Are they always that, um… How do I say this?” She tilts her head to the side and tries to find what I can only assume is the least offensive word.

“Awful? For me, yes. You might have a different experience if you come on a day I am,” I make air quotes with my fingers, “"working’ and not there. Though, he probably just won’t talk then. Unless it’s to Cal about work.”

“So, your dad is only a raging jackass to you? Or does he just have a permascowl, like someone else I know?” She gives me a pointed look with a raised brow.

Shit. I’m not as bad as my old man, am I? To normal people, no. But I guess I lumped her in with Isla, who got lumped in with Cal, and Cal is up Dad’s ass last time I checked. So, in my book, they’re all against me.

“In case you didn’t notice, I am the family's disappointment. So, no. Neither he nor I have a permascowl, whatever that means. We just don’t get along.”

“Ah, so, that's why you blew off your sister's wedding and never showed up.” The judgment in her tone is hard to miss.

I don’t have the nerve or humility to admit to her that I couldn’t afford the trip at the time. I’d just recently got a raise that has me living more comfortably. Two weeks in Hawaii isn’t exactly a cheap vacation. And for obvious reasons, I refuse to take help from my family. So, I took the L and chose to look like a total jackass, all because I was too prideful to ask for help.

Unfortunately, missing Liv’s big day will always be a regret of mine. But I just can’t stand the thought of giving my dad the pleasure of me crawling to him and asking for a handout.

“Something like that,” is what I settle for in lieu of the truth. Putting my head down, I find the regret and shame can still be hard to shake off.

“Well, for what it’s worth, he's an idiot. If you cook anything like Cal, you’re probably doing well for yourself.”

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