Page 23 of Through My Window
“Apolo, it’s okay,” I say, looking over my shoulder. “I tried to go up even though he told me not to.” I turn toward the guard. “Could you let me go?”
The guard’s expression turns guilty, and he finally releases me. “I’m sorry.”
We walk away from the guard and Apolo lifts my arm and inspects it. It’s red but not bruised.
“Are you all right?” he asks.
“Yes, thank you.”
“If he hadn’t apologized, I would have fired him.”
“Fired him? You own this bar?”
“No.” Apolo shakes his head. “It belongs to my brother.”
I stare at him with wide eyes. “This belongs to Ares?”
Apolo shakes his head again. “Ares with a bar? No, Mom would die. It belongs to Artemis.”
Oh, the big brother.
“Don’t worry. I’ll text Artemis. He’ll deal with it when he gets here later.”
Part of me feels sad for the guard, but then I remember how rude he was. He doesn’t say anything when we pass by him this time. Our little argument sobered me up a bit, but I still have a long way to go before I’m fully alert. I realize just how drunk I am when it’s difficult for me to climb the short staircase to the VIP area. A lump rises in my throat at the prospect of meeting Ares.
It’s beautiful up here, with glass tables and plush armchairs. Waiters are serving the wealthy groups spread out across the lounge. At the far end, I see crimson curtains blocking what lies beyond.
Apolo guides me to one of the armchairs in front of an empty table. “Sit down, what would you like to drink?”
I search my brain, trying to remember what I was drinking with Dani, but she has already given me so many different drinks that I don’t even remember most of them. I only remember one by its peculiar name: Orgasm. But there is no way in this life or the next that I will ever say that word to Apolo.
“What do you recommend?”
“I don’t drink, but my brothers love whiskey,” Apolo says kindly.
“A glass of whiskey, then.”
He orders it from a waiter and then sits down next to me. I clasp my hands in my lap, nervous.
“I’m very sorry about the guard,” Apolo apologizes, looking at me with those pure eyes of his. “Sometimes they hire just anyone.”
“It’s okay, I shouldn’t have tried to go upstairs either.”
“I’ll tell Artemis to give you a pass so that way when you come, you can go upstairs whenever you want.”
“Thank you, but you don’t have to do that.”
“Hey, we’re neighbors, and, while we may not be best friends, I remember the times we played and talked through the fence together.”
“I didn’t think you would remember that. You were so little.”
“Of course I remember. I remember everything about you.”
The way he says it makes something in my stomach tighten with tension. Apolo notices the expression on my face. “I don’t mean to sound weird or anything, I just have a good memory.”
“Don’t worry,” I say. “You’re not weird.”
I’m the last person who’s qualified to judge you regarding matters of stalking, anyway, I think.
