Page 81 of The Second Chance Cinema
“Come on,” he baited. “I want you to see the bar before it closes. It’s a neighborhood place. Low lights. Jazz records. Might be your thing.”
His words were espresso to her ears.Before it closes.
“It’s closing, huh?”
“Yeah. It’s a classic story of not being able to make ends meet. Customers want trendy places now. Fake speakeasies. Pop-ups.”
Ellie pursed her lips. Not on her watch. “Maybe I could make an appearance.” She had already decided to go.“What’s it called?”
“Finn’s,” he offered, with a sense of pride. “It’s Finn’s Bar.”
“You’ve got a date,” Ellie told Sam.
Drake recognized Sam as the bartender from Finn’s right away. He also knew that Ellie was exactly Sam’s type, thanks to all those nights he had spent watching him twirl bottles and finesse eight counts. Before Drake could process this twist, he was faced with his own half of the story. Tonight, instead of the fuzzy blurring that usually separated their memories, the moments joined together smoothly.
There was Drake at Finn’s, sitting across the table from Melinda.
He searched for Ellie’s expression in the seat next to him and held her hand tightly in case she decided to take off. This screening would be different, he reminded himself. They burned the rules. They could talk it through when they left.
“It’s good to see you, Drake,” Melinda said. Her right hand held out a cold beer for him, the left, an old-fashioned for her.
“Oh, we’re drinking whiskey now?” Drake asked.
“I am,” she said. Melinda scooted her chair toward him and took a little sip. “The girl at the bar recommended it. Just your type.” She pushed the beer over to him.
“The drink?”
“No,her.”
Drake followed Melinda’s eyeline and caught Ellie in the middle of a laugh. Sam must have told a joke. “Her?” He brushed thecomment off because it made him uncomfortable to talk about another woman, or even the possibility of such a thing, with the history they shared. “She’s got nothing on you,” Drake told Melinda. He wanted to put her at ease. “Thanks for driving all the way out here. I could’ve come your way.”
“You’re worth it,” she told him. “Besides, it’s fun to see one of your spots.”
“More like,spot,” Drake said. “I’m uh, glad you asked me to hang out. I was kind of surprised,” he admitted. “In a good way.”
She nodded. “Well, it’s about time we act like friends—”
“I still love you,” Drake blurted. Terror set in. Why the hell had he done that? He hadn’t meant to say it then. Not yet, anyway. The confession sat at the center of the table like a conversational fruit cake. Was it even true anymore?
“Whoa,” Melinda said, setting her drink down. “It’s been a long time. A really long time. I thought you wanted to be friends.”
“You said we should hang out. Like adate.” Drake danced his finger over the tea light, getting it dangerously close to the leaping flame.
“I used the phrasehang outbecause it isn’t adate.”
Drake blushed in his seat. He was ruined. He’d thought the proposal was the most humiliating scene from his life. But no, he decided right then, this confession was so far out of left field that it stole the trophy. He worried that Sam had overheard the whole thing and was laughing at him. Sam was an excruciating caliber of cool. Sam would never faceplant like this. “I thought … I shouldn’t have said ‘I love you,’” Drake admitted. “Shit. I just said it again. I wasn’t repeating the ‘I love you’ then, I was summarizing what happened, and … Sorry. I’m sorry.”
Melinda pushed her loose hair out of her face; it was messy, like she’d come from running errands. All signs indicated that this wasn’t a date. He should’ve paid more attention. “Look, Drake.You’re incredible. And you’re going to find someone great,” she said.
Their eyes connected.
Drake shook his head. “If I do, I’ll be pretending she’s you.”
The statement forced Melinda out of her chair. “I should probably go.” She wove past the marble tables toward the bar’s door, and Drake trailed a few steps behind. Then, she spun to face him right before stepping outside. She’d forgotten something, it seemed. Her hand reached for something inside her bag, and then she was handing him the familiar sapphire ring.
“I wanted you to keep it,” he said, making no move to grab the box.
“We both know this is meant for someone else,” she told him. “And when you find her, she’s going to love it. Okay?” Melinda didn’t wait for his reaction. A second later she was gone. Drake followed her right out the door.
