Page 30 of Up All Night

So much for a guys’ night out. Which I was now realizing was his way of trying to get me out of the apartment and away from my laptop on a Saturday night. I should have known he had no intentions of keeping it a guys’ night.

I wasn’t a big drinker, and bars weren’t really my scene, but Cannon had insisted I needed to go out and have some fun. He didn’t seem to recognize that his definition of fun was different from mine. I happened to think spreadsheets were fun and had been having a wonderful start to my night at home before Cannon had closed my laptop lid on my hands.

Cannon was a social guy, and staying home on a weekend made him feel like he wasn’t fully living. But what I’d noticed since knowing him over the past ten years was that he really didn’t like to be alone. His lack of family relations seemed to make him crave connection, a desire to have relationships, but not too close because he didn’t trust anyone. Didn’t trust that people would actually want to get to know therealhim. The him who wasn’t always fun, who wasn’t always the life of the party.

Of course, he’d never voiced any of that to me, but we’d lived together long enough for me to pick up on his true feelings, hearing what he didn’t dare say out loud. He had layers to him he didn’t want anyone knowing about. He liked to keep things on the surface.

I remembered when we met—Cannon had always been friendly and invited me to all the hangouts and parties, but for the first year, I never knew if we were actually friends. We never talked about anything with true substance. He kept our conversations light, like you would have with an acquaintance you saw here and there. But over the next few years, I’d somehow gained his trust, showing him that our friendship was here to stay.

His extrovert to my introvert made an interesting dynamic sometimes, but we always had each other’s backs. Like how tonight I didn’t want to be hanging out at a bar while he picked up on women, but I was here anyway.

Taking another sip of my drink, I winced at the sting of it. I should have gotten a sparkling water—that was more my speed.

Pushing my chair back to head to the bar for a new drink, I stopped, my eyes not believing who had walked through the door.

Halle, Kate, and Halle’s mom breezed into the busy bar. Out of all the bars in San Francisco, how had they ended up at this one?

When they reached the bar, Kate flagged down the bartender, which caught Cannon’s attention. They looked to be exchanging pleasantries and introducing Halle’s mom, who looked at Cannon like he was a dessert and she had a sweet tooth.

Kate scanned the room and seemed to be appreciative of the place as she said something to Cannon. Had he told them to come here? And if so, why hadn’t he mentioned anything to me?

Halle glanced around the open bar, too, her eyes landing on me. A light pink dusted her cheeks, but I wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with finding me staring back at her, or if it was because her mom had been feeling up Cannon’s biceps.

Halle looked incredible. She wore a maroon dress that hugged her curves, with heels that accentuated her toned legs. Her hair was down tonight, the beach wave-style strands framing her face and reaching halfway down her back. She wore more makeup than I was used to seeing her wear, and I decided that I liked both looks on her, the done-up version and the minimalist look.

Let’s be honest—I always thought she looked beautiful.

I shook my head. It didn’t matter how attracted I was to her. She was my neighbor, whom I was suddenly beginning to not be so annoyed with. But her looks didn’t have anything to do with that, because I’d thought she was gorgeous even when I had thought she was infuriating.

Halle’s mom had spotted me, and I watched as she tugged on Halle’s arm to come my way.

I smiled and waved to them, pulling my chair back up to the table as they walked toward me.

Normally you didn’t see people here with their moms, but Ms. Parker wasn’t your typical mother. She must have had Halle young because she didn’t look old enough to have a daughter Halle’s age. And if I had to guess, she’d probably had some type of Botox or something because her face didn’t move as much as it should.

“West!” her high-pitched voice called out in excitement when she reached the table. “It’ssogood to see you.” She practically pushed Halle into the seat next to me before sitting down next to her daughter.

“It’s nice to see you again, too, Ms. Parker.”

I hadn’t seen her since the day I’d run into her on the landing in front of my apartment. Besides our morning training sessions, that was the only time I’d seen or heard Halle as well. The training sessions when we were fighting less and being civil more. The trainings when I looked forward to our morning drive and got out of bed a little easier. I’d almost gone to her spin class this morning but thought it would be best to put some distance between us. That and the fact that spin class was a torturous way to exercise.

“Halle,” I said in greeting. “It’s nice to see you too.”

She smiled tightly and then turned to her mom. “Mom—”

“Shh, honey,” her mom whispered. “Call me Jacqueline while we’re here.”

Halle took a big breath, looking like she was trying to calm herself. “Jacqueline, why don’t you go get yourself a drink? That tall guy in the charcoal sport coat has been staring at you since you walked in.”

She smiled in anticipation. “You don’t have to tell me twice.” She quickly got up and sashayed over to the bar close to the guy but pretended like she didn’t know he was there. She exaggeratingly leaned over the counter to get the bartender to notice her, her assets on display. Soon the guy moved in, offering her a drink.

“Wow,” I said in amazement, surprised at how fast the guy had played right into Jaqueline’s plans.

“Yeah,” Halle said with no emotion in her voice. “She’s good at what she does.”

“Has she always been like that?” I asked, wondering how it must have been to have a mom like that.

“Yes and no,” she said. “She wasn’t as bad when I was younger. She’d have periods of time when she was single and working to make ends meet. Then when times got tough financially, she’d set her sights on winning over some rich guy. They were always so enamored with her that they bought her whatever she wanted. Not the best example, but she did what she had to in order to take care of me. She realized that if she found the right guy, she wouldn’t have to work at all.”

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