Page 54 of Legally Mine

"I have to make you miss me for something," Jane teased as she drew the bright red around my mouth. "Brandon's not going to be able to see anything else when he looks at you. The only thing that'll go through his head is 'fuck that P.I.'."

I didn't respond. I didn't want to think about the fact that I wouldn't be able to go home with Brandon for multiple reasons. Jane had already heard all about our public relations problem. Just the fact that he had agreed to meet me in a crowded bar, no matter how dark it would be, was a risk.

She pulled back with satisfaction, and I smacked my lips in the mirror.

"You missed your calling, Janey," I said appreciatively. "You should have been a makeup artist."

"Nah, I'm more of a glamor-by-night-only kind of gal these days," she said, looking at her work with approval. "I had to get rid of my streaks and cut my hair all the same length. Something about a preferred court attire." She scowled. "Fascists."

I put the lipstick into the small cross-body purse I was bringing with me and stood up. "All right. Let's get Eric and head out. And you––be nice!"

~

After finishing a short, but effective pub crawl that meandered through most of Allston, we ended up at Great Scott just after the warm-up act's set, around ten. Jane and Eric had gotten along surprising well all evening, and Jane had amazingly stayed with us the entire time instead of picking up men at the bars. It was ironic, really, that she spent so much time giving Eric shit about habits that matched her own.

Considering that the band was only in the beginning stages of setting up their equipment, the venue wasn't terribly crowded, and we were able to find stools at one of the small tables in the middle, right next to one of the tall wood pillars that held up the roof.

"Pitcher?" Eric asked, pointing two fingers at Jane and me.

"I'll share one with you," Jane said.

"I'll stick with whiskey soda," I said.

Eric ducked into the crowd toward the bar, and I caught Jane watching him for a moment before she swiveled back to me.

I raised a brow. "You're looking pretty hard in that direction, Janey," I said. "And the two of you have been awfully friendly tonight. I haven't heard you call him 'Petri Dish' once."

Jane rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Please," she said. "Been there, got tested for it." She scrunched her face up, however, in a look that was slightly regretful. "It would help if he weren't so damn cute, though."

I glanced back at Eric. He wasn't exactly my type: lanky and way too much of a player. But I could see the appeal, just like most of the other women in the bar appeared to see. The guy had charisma.

"He's got a cute butt," I conceded.

"Whose butt are you looking at?"

I twirled around to find Brandon standing behind me, wearing a pair of black jeans, black Converse, and a plain white T-shirt. He looked like he had walked out of a James Dean movie. I wanted to devour him.

"Hi," I said with a grin, while I completely ignored his question. "You're here."

"I'm here." He said leaned down to give me a brief, urgent kiss that still managed to warm me to my toes. "Hey there, Jane. Welcome back."

"Hi, Brandon," Jane replied as she accepted his polite kiss on the cheek. She looked him over critically, tapping her chin with a black-painted fingernail. "You going to a rumble later on? You look like a West Side Story extra."

Brandon rolled his eyes, but stuck his fingers into his pockets. The movement made his triceps test the constraints of his rather thin T-shirt. "Glad to see you still have your unique sense of humor, Jane."

"You just have too many people kissing your ass all the time, Sterling," Jane said sweetly as she slid off her stool. "I work for the government now, so you better be careful. You might have to kiss my ass one of these days."

"Where are you going?" I asked. "You don't have to leave. This is our night out. He's just a bystander."

"Thanks!" Brandon said, pretending to be hurt.

Jane just smiled as she looked between the two of us. "No, it's okay. I'm toasted right now, so you know there's only one cure for that. Locate wherever Eric parked the pitcher and find some fun of my own."

She turned and surveyed the club, which was quickly filling up with people, and zeroed in on a decent-looking guy about ten feet from us. He noticed her too, and held up his drink.

"And there's my fun now," Jane said. "See you later, kids." And with that, she walked around Brandon, snapping her fingers as she sang: "When you're a Jet, you're a jet all the way, from your first cigarette to your last dyin' day!"

Brandon watched with skeptical amusement until Jane had disappeared into the crowd. Then his blue eyes seared over me as he took in my uncharacteristically revealing shirt and Jane's makeup job. I blushed, an effect that was likely only exacerbated by the rosy hue already on my cheeks from having a few drinks.

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