Page 44 of Left of the Slash
“Hey!” I yell to the bartender who’s only a few feet away yet hasn't even glanced in our direction. It’s not really a big deal, but my feathers feel ruffled anyway. “Can we get a couple of drinks down here?”
As the dark-haired man makes his way to us, I turn to Olivia. “What are you having tonight?”
“Long Island iced tea.”
I nod and face the bartender. “Let me get a Hennessy and Coke, and a Long Island iced tea for my girl.”
“You got it,” he says, then he gets to work.
As the bartender makes our drinks, I can feel Olivia’s eyes stinging the side of my face like the sun beaming through a window.
I look over at her and smirk. “What?”
With a raised brow, she replies, “Nothing,” and immediately puts the straw to her mouth the second the bartender places her drink in front of her. I watch her take multiple pulls from the straw before backing away with a squint and shaking her head.
“Strong?” I inquire.
“Oh yeah.”
“Good. At least he didn't hold out on you.”
“Thank goodness,” she says, before taking another sip from the straw. I follow her lead and sip my cocktail.
After a minute of silent drinking, I turn to Olivia. “So, you wanted to talk about the proposal. Have you added any sweeteners to the deal since we last spoke about what we’re offering them?”
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes at the same time. “No, but I might have to. Honestly, I don't know if I'm in the mood to talk about the meeting. This whole thing has me so stressed out that all I want to do is have a couple of drinks, then go back to my place and unwind. You know what I'm saying?”
The look in her eyes is as obvious as the sun shining, so I just smile and nod. “Of course I do. But we’re going to have to talk about it sometime. The pitch is only a few days away.”
“We will,” she says. “Just not right now. Tell me more about your dad. Do you ever go see him?”
My eyebrows raise from the quick turn in the conversation. I guess she really doesn't want to talk about the pitch, but my father is usually off limits. However, after another gulp that finishes off my Henn and Coke, I'm feeling a little more open. I ask the bartender for another and sip from it before I exhale and decide to answer Olivia.
“Sometimes,” I admit. “But I'm due for another visit. It’s been a little while.”
“Does he know all about how brilliant and successful you are? I'm sure he’s very proud of you.”
My eyes fall to the glass of dark liquid in front of me and stay there. “He knows what I do for a living. I haven't been there since I got promoted. Hell, I've been promoted twice and I still haven't told him yet. It’s tough because I know what he did to get locked in there, but I wish he was still out, yet I also know that the darkest parts of who I am came from him, and that makes me feel some type of way about him. Dad has always been unapologetic about who he is. He liked being a criminal and making money however he could, and he didn't hesitate for a second before killing someone. I know he had a good reason, but the string that connects us terrifies me because we’re so much alike, especially when I get upset. It’s like he lives in me, and I want to be my own person but … it’s just hard.”
“You sound conflicted about it.”
“I am.”
“Then you should talk to him,” Olivia suggests. “I wish my father was still around so I could talk to him about how I'm feeling. I guess if he hadn't died then I wouldn't be in this position, but still. I’d do anything to be able to talk to him. So, I know it’s hard, but don't take his life for granted. Go see him.”
I want to be annoyed by getting advice that I didn't ask for, but a big part of me knows that she's right. I should go see my dad. Out of all the people in my life, he's the one with the opinion Ivalue most. I'm scared of being like him, but I don't think I've ever looked up to anyone more than I do him. It’s confusing and headache-inducing, so I always choose not to dwell on it. Even now. Instead of planning my next visit to Gander Hill Prison, I gulp my drink like it’s water until I hit the bottom. As soon as it’s gone, I ask for another.
As the bartender hands me my third drink in a ten-minute span, the door to the bar opens and two new patrons enter. One is tall with slender arms and a well-manicured beard, while the other is short and stocky, wearing a black and red flannel with a red hat with white letters scrawled across the front of it. I watch them come in, and usually I’d just look away and go on about my business, but the tall one’s eyes find us. He does a double take, whispers something to his shorter friend, then makes a B line from the entrance to the bar. When he reaches us, he ignores me and focuses solely on Olivia, his blue eyes lighting up like a solar flare as he gawks at her.
“Olivia Lucero,” he says with a chuckle. “As I live and breathe. Wow. How are you? Long time no see.”
Olivia steals a lightning quick glance at me before turning around in her seat and smiling at the tall guy.
“Simon,” she says. “Wow, yeah it has been a long time. How have you been?”
Simonreaches in for a hug, practically pulling Olivia over to him. She barely returns the gesture with a quick, one-armed pat on the back, but Simon holds her tight, glancing at me once before closing his eyes like he’s hugging a long lost loved one. When they pull apart, Olivia frowns.
“Wow. Umm, okay. Anyway. How are things at First Financial?” she asks with a puzzled look on her face.
