Page 73 of Captured Solace

She glanced at me, shaking her head. “What were you drinking?”

“Vodka,” I said, leaning on the bar and lighting another cigarette. She leaned over, plucking it from my mouth and put it to her lips.

“Should have guessed,” she said, gesturing to me. “Russian?”

“Yes and no,” I said. “Let’s just go with American.”

“Well, I’m Savannah, from the great state of Louisiana.”

“Funny,” I said. “I just met a woman from New Orleans earlier today.”

“I’m from there too. I haven't been to New Orleans in a long time. Not since Katrina,” said Savannah, sliding another vodka toward me. I lit another cigarette and emptied the glass. “Now what happened just now?”

“She wanted me to fuck her and I said no.” I shrugged. “I separated with my wife this morning so I’m not in the mood to fuck a stranger at a bar.”

“Well, rest assured, I won’t make a pass at you.” She took the cigarette from her lips and smoke drifted from between them in a lazy swirl.

“I’m not cut up about it, sweetheart,” I said. “Anyway, it wouldn’t go the same way.”

“What does that mean?” Her brows rose.

“I wouldn’t turn you down,” I said, gesturing to her body. “Not if I wasn’t married. And not if I wasn’t fucking in love with my wife.”

She leaned on the counter, biting her lip as she studied me. Then she took the cigarette from her mouth and stabbed it out in the ashtray. Her hair was gathered behind her ear with one long, dirty blonde braid falling over her shoulder. My eyes followed it, moving lower to her clasped hands. She wore a silver wedding band.

“You’re married,” I said.

She nodded. “Happily.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have said I’d sleep with you. I’m just fucking drunk. And fucking…you know what, never mind.”

Her eyes softened. “You’re heartbroken.”

I took a drag off my cigarette. “Don’t make me sound like a pussy now.”

She circled the bar with two more shots of vodka in her hands and set one down before me. Then she took a seat at my side and leaned one arm on the countertop.

“I own a bar so I’m basically a therapist,” she said. “So what did you do? Fuck her best friend? Forget her birthday too many times? Blow your money on hookers?”

“Actually, she did it,” I said. “It was a work thing, I was doing something…maybe I shouldn’t have been doing. Anyway, she found out and told my business partner. I can’t fucking trust her again.”

“What were you doing?”

The room swam around Savannah and I leaned back against the bar, warm and relaxed. Maybe a little too warm. I tugged my collar open, the top few buttons of my shirt coming undone.

“I was starting a war.”

Savannah narrowed her eyes at me and then she leaned forward, her gaze cutting deep. “Has it occurred to you that you might be in the wrong?”

“I told her again and again to keep out of my work, that it wasn’t appropriate for her to get involved,” I said. “The world we both come from doesn’t allow for women to get mixed up in men’s business. Or the other way around. My wife knew better and she chose not to trust me.”

Savannah released a heavy sigh and looked over her shoulder. I followed her gaze to a tall, slender man with light brown skin and piercing dark eyes. He sat at a table with an elderly man opposite him, both totally engrossed in a game of cards.

“Your husband?” I asked.

She nodded. “He works on boats and sells them. Luckily for me, he doesn’t do what men like you do.”

I tensed, my gaze boring into her as I chose my next words carefully. “What do you think I do, Savannah?”

---