Page 180 of Hot Cops

Stephanie shuddered at the mention of their beer distributor. “The guy doesn’t get it. He calls to ask me out and I say no. He calls again and I say no. You’d think after twenty-or-so calls, he’d figure it out. One moment of weakness and it’s like I’m going to be punished for life.”

“I think it was more like three moments,” Jayne teased.

“Wow. You’re a regular laugh a minute today. We should callThe Daily Showand see if they’ll give you a job co-anchoring with that new guy. What’s his name?.”

“Trevor Noah. And that wouldn’t be a terrible gig, though I miss Jon Stewart like crazy. I always thought he was totally hot.”

“Of course you did. You go for that brainiac type.”

Jayne didn’t deny the truth of Stephanie’s assessment. “You know, I’d like to say I knowyourtype, but I can’t pin you down. You never seem to go for the same kind of guy twice or for longer than a month.”

“That’s because my time is too valuable to waste. And I’m a fast learner. For example, a few nights with Hank proved weightlifters are not my cup of tea.” Hank had a major self-esteem issue which manifested itself in his obsession with outward appearances. After a couple trips to the gym with him, she’d discovered the same held true for quite a few of the uber-muscular men in his social circle.

“Seems sort of narrow-minded. What if the next weightlifter is cool and you never give him a chance?”

Stephanie shrugged, not wanting to admit her friend had a valid point. The whole argument was moot anyway. Dating anyone seriously was a luxury she simply didn’t have time for.

Luckily Jayne was a good friend. She let her off the hook easy. “You’ll just have to keep looking.”

“Maybe, but regardless of who I date, let’s get one thing straight, Jayne. I’m not looking to fall in love. Lust? Definitely. Sexual attraction? I’m in. Red-hot, set-the-sheets-on-fire fucking? Hell yeah. Forever? No way.”

Jayne looked at her thoughtfully. “I kind of think forever would be nice.”

“Ha, that’s because you weren’t raised by Beverly Harper Price Fitzgerald Warner, the queen of the five-minute marriage.”

“Agreed. Your mom’s giving Elizabeth Taylor’s record a run for the money. Which husband is she on now? I lost track after the second.”

Stephanie sighed and pretended to count on her fingers. “Four.”

Jayne winced. “Wowza. Well, you shouldn’t let your mother’s missteps lead you astray. True love does exist, Steph. You just have to keep your eyes and your heart open.”

Stephanie smiled. “You’ve been reading too many romance novels. They’re rubbing off on you. Unfortunately, it’s not like Portland is crawling with hot guys who frequent bookstores and right now, this bar is the only place I’m likely to meet someone. I can’t remember the last time you and I hit the nightclubs together.”

To make their store a success, Stephanie and her friends had made quite a few sacrifices—the main one being social lives. Because of the bar component, weekend evenings usually found the store open for business. To keep the profits high, they’d decided to do most of the running of the store themselves rather than hire outside help. Stephanie hadn’t had a day off in nearly five months.

“So obviously you grabbed one of the few available men to darken our door and had sex with the beer distributor.”

Stephanie shifted her purse on her arm, grinning widely. “You have to admit, he’s easy on the eyes with all those muscles and that rich, golden tan, even if he is kind of dim.”

“Dim might be an understatement. I think it’s all those steroids he swears he doesn’t take.”

Jayne’s laughter was contagious, and Stephanie giggled before flexing her muscles and deepening her voice to mimic Hank the Tank. “Feel those guns there, baby. All natural.”

Jayne feigned a girlie swoon.

Stephanie’s laughter gave way to a heavy sigh. “Christ. I really am pathetic.”

“Not really. At least you’re getting laid occasionally. I’m living a life more celibate than a nun.” Jayne scooped up a pile of broken glass and dumped it in the garbage pail.

“There’s a big difference between getting laid and getting laid well.”

“Is this why Hank’s history?”

“One of the reasons. His insecurity was the main one, though. We couldn’t have a conversation. It was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about anything other than how much he could bench press. After a few dates, it felt like I was spending more time counseling him than trying to build any sort of relationship.”

Jayne leaned the broom against the bar. “You know, Jordan seems to think we’re getting more financially secure. Maybe we could consider hiring a second bartender so you can at least attempt a social life. We’ve been at this for two years, and I think it’s obvious Mr. Right isn’t going to come walking through that door for any of us. We need to get out more.”

Stephanie shook her head. There was no way she’d ever give Beverly a reason to say, “I told you so”. Books and Brew would continue to thrive and grow because Stephanie wouldn’t accept defeat. “No. We agreed to give this place three years of solid hard work, so there would be no regrets about not trying hard enough if it goes under. I’m not going back on that commitment. I’m just in a bitchy mood. My morning sucked and I’m feeling whiny. Ignore me. In fact, I’ll make that easy for you. I’m off to the liquor store. Don’t attempt to make anyone anything alcoholic to drink before I get back.”

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