Текст книги "Seduction and Snacks"

Автор книги: Tara Sivec

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5. Snickers Finger Arm Teeth

It happened in slow motion. Well, for me it happened in slow motion. Probably because the amount of alcohol I've consumed tonight has digested half of my brain cells, and I feel like I'm in the Matrix.

I wonder if I could lean back on my bar stool and do that cool move from the movie where I dodge bullets in slow motion while suspended in mid-air? I need a cool black leather jacket and my hair slicked back. I wonder if they used wires or if that Keanu guy could really bend like that? I bet he does that yoga shit. He looks like the kind of guy that does Downward Facing Dog.

Heh, heh, downward dog. That's funny. I should get a dog.

Wait, what was I doing? Oh, yeah. The bartender turned around and stared at me and before I could even get a good non-drunken haze look at her. I watched the entire tray of shots tip right out of her hand. They crashed to the floor before I had a chance to react, the sound of glass breaking rising above the drone of music and loud voices.

I should have jumped into action and vaulted across the bar to help her. Because you know, right now I had cat-like reflexes—if the cat drank three times its weight in tequila because it just found out its girlfriend of two years never wanted to have kids and decided to turn her vagina into a wiener-warmer for half the population of Toledo.

I should get a cat or two. They're pretty low maintenance. Maybe I can even teach it to piss in the toilet like Jinxy from "Meet the Fockers." Can a guy turn into a crazy cat lady? I suddenly pictured myself as an old man shuffling along the sidewalk covered in cat hair and meowing at everyone who walked by.

On second thought, no cats. I shouldn’t be allowed to think when I’m drinking.

The bartender ducked down behind the bar, and I forgot about cats pissing for a minute so I could stand up and lean over as far as I could without the bar stool flying out from under me to see if she needed help.

And by "help" I meant checking to make sure she wasn't bleeding and then sitting back down to before the room tilted too far to the left and I made an ass of myself.

My good deed ended before it began when a tiny little thing with long blonde hair, who looked strangely familiar, got behind the bar and walked over to the spot I was trying to see and looked down.

"Jesus, butterfingers, are you..."

She was cut off by a hand flying up from behind the bar, latching onto her forearm and yanking her down roughly. She disappeared with a yelp and I shook my head at why women were so weird. And such whores.

Fuck you, Tasha. And fuck cats that don't piss in toilets. And fuck you, Keanu Reeves, and your dog.

Drew sat back down next to me and yelled out, "Yo, bartender!"

The girl with the blonde hair popped up suddenly from behind the bar with her mouth wide open, staring right at me.

"Can we get a couple shots of tequila?" Drew asked her. She didn't even look in his direction, just stared at me without even blinking, like we were in some sort of fucking staring contest.

I'll show her. I'm the mother fucking king of staring contests.

Drew leaned over and snapped his fingers in front of her face a few times.

"Hellloooo?"

Dammit! I blinked.

But she never moved from her spot kneeling behind the bar with just her little head peaking over the top of it. What the fuck was wrong with this woman? She was starting to freak me out.

"Um, tequila please?" I asked questioningly, enunciating each word as best as my drunken mouth would allow. So really, it came out as "Ufff, shakira pea?"

A huge psychotic smile broke out on her face and she quickly stood up.

"So what can I get you?" she asked me brightly, resting her hands on top of the bar and leaning into them.

Drew and I slowly turned to face one another. We both shrugged and I turned back to look at her, but not before noticing that Drew was busy tucking his shirt back into his jeans.

"T-e-q-u-i-l-a," I said very slowly, wondering if this bartender was drunker than me.

Her smile got bigger if that's even possible.

"Whiskey, coming right up!"

She quickly spun around and immediately tripped over what I assumed was the other bartender still down there picking up broken glass. Blondie caught herself from falling, huffed and reached down to pull the other girl up. There was some swearing, loud whispering and tugging back and forth before she was finally able to pull the other one up roughly. Her long, wavy brown hair hung in a curtain, obscuring her face as she stood there with her head down. More whispering and erratic hand gesturing continued between the two of them, then they each turned and stomped off in the same direction, both of them taking turns smacking the other in the arm as they walked away. My eyes went immediately to the brunette’s ass in the tiny black shorts as she walked away.

“I hate to see you go, but I love watching you leave,” I said with a snort.

Drew punched me in the arm and I reluctantly looked away from her great ass and long legs before I started drooling.

"So, did you strike out with the waitress?" I asked him as we waited for whatever it was the chick decided to bring us to drink.

"No, I just fucked her in the bathroom. She tasted like beef jerky and Captain Morgan. Strange, yet oddly satisfying. She threw up when she came though. She's got issues."

"How in the fuck has your dick not fallen off yet?" I asked with disgust.

"Don't be a hater just because you dipped your wick in the same crotch-rot for two years. I like to test the waters, sample the merchandise. Plus, I've got a stamp card for the Quickie Mart by my house. One more box of condoms and I get a free twenty ounce of Pepsi."

The ladies were back with our drinks before I could come up with a clever retort. The short blonde with the staring problem slammed a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label down on the bar, while the other one stood a few feet behind her with her hair still shading her face.

"So boys, what are we drinking to tonight?"

Since she wasn't staring at me like that creepy clown Pennywise from the movie "It" anymore, I figured she wasn't dangerous.

"If you share a drink with us, I might be inclined to tell you," I said with a wink.

At least I thought it was a wink. She was looking at me funny, maybe I just squinted really hard. I tried again.

Fuck, why was it so hard to fucking wink?

"Is something wrong with your face?" she asked.

I had been out of the game for too long. I couldn't even get drunk and flirt anymore. I could however, get drunk and look like a stroke victim. I just shook my head and pointed at the shot glasses, signaling her to pour them.

"You'll have to excuse my friend here," Drew said with a pat to my back. "He's still morning the loss of a shitty girlfriend and he's not happy I made him go out instead of sitting at home watching "Beaches" and diddling his vagina."

"Shut up, dick-fuck," I muttered as I grabbed one of the shots the blonde poured.

Turning her head, she called to the girl behind her. "Get your sweet ass up here and do a shot with these lovely gentlemen."

"I'm working, Liz. I can't drink," she said, gritting her teeth.

My ears perked up at the sound of her voice like I was a dog and someone just said, "cookie." The shot was halfway to my lips and I held it in place as she took a step forward and shook the hair out of her eyes.

Holy shit, she was beautiful. And not beer goggles beautiful. I was pretty sure that if I was sober she’d still look good. Long, wavy brown hair, smooth skin and the most gorgeous brown eyes I’d ever seen.

"Oh shut your yap. You know the Fosters could care less if you drink while you're on the job. You're like the daughter they never had."

Those eyes. There was something about them that made it impossible for me to look away.

"Liz, the Fosters have a daughter."

"Patty plays softball and can bench press two hundred and fifty pounds. Her dick is probably bigger than this guy's," she said, hooking her thumb towards Drew.

"Heeeeey," Drew said defensively.

I couldn't stop staring. I just wanted her to look at me. Why wouldn’t she look at me? Her friend wouldn’t shut up and she wouldn’t look at me.

"Sorry, big guy. I'm sure you have a very nice dick."

"Well, thank you. How about you and I…"

"Don't even finish that sentence," she said with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. "I saw you sneak into the women's bathroom to fuck Jerky Jade not more than twenty minutes ago. Are you seriously flirting with me right now?"

"Jerky Jade? I thought her name was Alison."

"You're such a man whore. Her name is Jade. She always smells like beef jerky so we call her Jerky Jade. And you stuck it to her. You stuck your penis in her meaty vagina."

While Drew and Blondie continued their verbal sparring, I continued to stare at the quiet one. I wanted to touch her hair and see if it was as soft as it looked. I bet I could use her hair as a pillow, a silky, furry hair pillow that I could finger all night to help me get to sleep.

No, that doesn't sound creepy at all. I should really stop drinking. Who keeps putting alcohol in my alcohol?

"Jesus, Liz, keep it down. She's right over there."

My ears perked up like a dog’s again when she spoke and pointed in the general direction of the chick that smelled of Slim Jims.

I hope I don't start barking.

"Oh, please, like she doesn't know about the smell of meat products wafting from her lady parts. I think she rubs bologna down there to attract men. Lunch meat is her sex pheromone."

The brunette shook her head in irritation. "If I do a shot, will you please stop talking about Jade's disgusting vagina and never, ever use the word meat product in a sentence?"

"Woof!"

Three sets of eyes all turned to look at me.

"Did I just bark out loud?"

Three heads bobbed up and down in unison.

"I dated a guy once that had wet dreams almost every night. I'd wake up to him humping his pillow and howling in his sleep," Liz said wistfully, taking the heat off of me for a minute.

The beautiful one came right up to the bar then and grabbed the shot glass closest to me but still wouldn't look up. She kept her eyes down in the glass like it held the meaning of life.

"So, what are we drinking to?" she asked the shot glass.

"Do your shot glasses usually respond?" I asked with a laugh, throwing her words from earlier back at her.

Her eyes shot up to mine and I felt like I had been punched in the gut. Her eyes were so bright and shiny they looked like melted chocolate.

Fuck. Why the hell was I obsessing about chocolate again? It had been years since I thought about that night and now all of a sudden I couldn't get away from it. I thought I smelled it earlier and that stupid flashback floated through my mind, and now I was comparing this chick's eyes to it. It was chocolate for fuck's sake. It was everywhere. There was nothing special about chocolate.

Except she had smelled like chocolate.

After that night, I’m ashamed to say I went through a phase for a few months of smelling lotion and soap at every single store I was in but they never smelled exactly right. The only thing that came even remotely close was real chocolate. I used to wonder if she rubbed Hershey's behind her ears instead of perfume. And then I'd wonder if she tasted like chocolate, and I'd have to rub one out after kicking myself in the ass for not tasting her that night.

Who was I kidding? It hadn't been years since I thought about her. Every fucking time I was within a mile radius of someone eating chocolate I thought about her. Shit. It was all Tasha’s fault that I was here right now obsessing about chocolate. My job relocation was going to give us a brand new start in a new place. The fighting between us those last couple of months were brutal, and we both agreed a change of scenery would do our relationship a world of good. Knowing she was going to make the move to this small town with me made it not seem so shitty. Fucking cock sucker. Literally. Too bad it was never my cock she sucked. She did it once and said she had TMJ or some shit and never did it again.

TMJ my ass.

Women were the devil. They led you along for years, making you think you would have a future together and then one day you came home and found her on her knees with the neighbor's dick in her mouth and porn playing on the television. It was all fun and games until someone else's dick was in your girlfriend's TMJ mouth. And it wasn't even good porn that was playing. It was Looney Toons porn. I shit you not folks. She sucked our neighbor off while Daffy Duck took it up the ass from Bugs Bunny shouting, "P-p-p-p-p-weathe Bugs, harder." That is some serious shit that could never be unseen.

Does it matter that I'm pretty sure I never loved Tasha? That every day with her felt like I was just biding my time until I found her again? I knew it was shitty of me and I probably deserved to walk in on her gargling with the neighbor's spunk, but it still sucked.

Clearing my head of duck-fucking rabbits and depressing thoughts, I raised my glass in the air with an angry growl and waited for the other three to do the same.

"We're drinking to all of the lying bitches in this world that wouldn't know how to tell the truth if it smacked them in the fucking face. Cheers!"

I threw back the shot and slammed my glass down, wondering why the beautiful girl in front of me hadn't drank hers and instead stood there staring at me with a look of horror on her face. I watched her friend elbow her and she quickly sucked that shot down like a champ. And then proceeded to pour herself another. And another. And then, like ten more after that – in a row. She’d obviously overcome her decision that it wasn’t a good idea to drink on the job. Drew and I just kind of sat there watching her in awe. I mean, I drank like ten times that much tonight, but not all at once.

Half the bottle was gone by the time Liz reached over and took it out of her hands.

"Okay there, home slice, I think that's enough for now."

I was seriously losing my ability to focus at this point. I wanted to ask her if I could suck on one of her fingers and see if it tasted like a Snickers bar. I wanted to ask her what her name was and tell her I didn't always do stuff like this, but she was already walking away and I couldn't figure out how to lift up my arm to signal her back. I stared down at my arm resting on the bar and it just sat there like a little piece of shit slacker. I stared really hard at it and thought about it moving, but it didn't work.

Fucking arm. It must be in a union and on a break. I can't feel my teeth.

"Drew, I can't feel my teeth." I tapped my finger against them. I had dreams all the time that my teeth were falling out. Fuck, what if this was one of those dreams? But it can't be a dream because I don't remember falling asleep. In my dreams my teeth were always falling in my lap and there was blood everywhere and no one cared that I was spitting them all out. Every tooth I touch just falls right out and no one looked at me funny even though that was some crazy shit, right? I ran my fingers around the hard edges of all my teeth.

Never mind, it's fine. Teeth are still there.

"Yeah, I think it's time to say nighty-night and get you home, little buddy," Drew said as he got up from his stool and threw a wad of bills down on the bar before pulling my dead arm up and swinging it over his shoulders. I looked up at Drew as he helped me walk out of the bar. "I wanna eat her Snickers finger but my arm teeth won't feel."

I didn't remember much after that.

6. I Got a Big Weiner

I was having the best dream ever. It was one of those hot dreams where you're having sex and you start having an orgasm and you slowly wake up in the middle of it and you don't know if you really did just have an orgasm or if it was part of the dream, but you know you want it to keep going. I was warm and cozy under the covers, and I slid my hand down between my legs to either do it again or finish it. Right when my fingers started to slip inside my underwear, I opened my eyes and screamed.

"HOLY SHIT!"

My son stood there next to the bed just staring at me. Seriously, two inches from my face just staring at me like those creepy twins in "The Shining." I waited for him to start saying, "Come play with us" in their freaky twin voices while I tried not to have a heart attack.

"Gavin, seriously. You can't just stand here and stare at mommy. It's weird," I grumbled as I put my hand to my aching head and tried to calm my pounding heart.

Sweet Jesus, who kicked me in the head and shit in my mouth last night?

"You said a bad word, Mommy," he informed me as he clambered onto my bed and straddled my waist. My other hand joined the first one on my head and I held on tight, fearing the entire thing was going to explode all over the room.

"Yes, Mommy said bad words. Sometimes mommies say bad words. Just don't ever repeat them, got it?"

He started bouncing up and down on my stomach like he was riding one of those stupid hopping balls with handles.

"Gavin, come on. Mommy doesn't feel good," I complained.

He stopped bouncing and leaned forward to sprawl his body out on top of me, putting his face right up to mine.

"Do you want me ta' beat up your friends, Mommy?" he whispered conspiratorially.

I removed my hands from my head and opened my eyes to look at him.

"What are you talking about, Gav?"

He brought his hands up and put them on my chest, resting his chin on top.

"Your friends, Mommy. The ones who maded you sick," he said in a voice that clearly screamed, "Duh."

I wrapped my arms around his little body and shook my head at him. "I have no idea what you're talking about, buddy."

He let out an exasperated sigh. Poor kid. He got stuck with a dumb mother.

"Papa says your friends Johnny, Jack and Jose maded you sick. Friends shouldn't do stuff like that, Mommy. If Luke maded me sick, I'd punch him in the nuts!"

"Gavin! Come on, we don't say things like that," I scolded him.

"Fine," he huffed. "I'd tickle him in the nuts."

Jesus Christ on a waffle cone. There's a reason why some animals in the wild eat their young.

"Just don't talk about nuts," I said with a sigh, rolling over so he slipped down onto the bed next to me with a giggle as he went.

"My best friend Luke talks about nuts. He showed me his wiener once. Do girls have wieners? Papa took me to breakfast and I ate fwee pancakes wif syrup and sausages, and Papa let me have Dr. Pepper last night wif dinner, and I told him I'm not allowed to have pop wif dinner but he told me not to tell you, and I said okay but I forgot. Can we go to the park?"

Make it stop. Please God just make it stop.

"SO HOW YOU FEELING THERE CLAIRE?" my dad screamed at the top of his lungs as he lounged against the door frame to my room with a cup of coffee in his hand.

I squinted one eye open and peered at him through it, trying to muster up a dirty look but my face hurt too much to do that.

"Really funny there, old man. Don't make me come over there and punch you. When I don't feel like puking. And my legs start to work again," I muttered as Gavin fidgeted and kicked and scrambled his way over top of me to get off the bed.

He ran across the room to my dad and threw himself at his legs, his head smacking into the family jewels.

"Shit! Gavin, you gotta be careful there, buddy," my dad wheezed as he picked him up.

"Papa, can we go to the shit-park?"

I have to give it to my dad, he never laughed at that shit. Er, stuff. I don't know how the hell he always kept his composure. As long as Gavin didn't do that sh..stuff in public and embarrass the hell out of me, it was hard not to laugh.

"Gavin, remember the talk we had last night about big-people words? Well, shit is one of those big-people words. You don't say it," my dad said sternly as he looked into Gavin's eyes.

"Can I says it when I'm a big boy?"

"Yes, you can SAY it when you're a big boy," he replied.

Gavin seemed satisfied with that answer and forgot all about the shit-park. My dad put him down and he ran out the door and down the hall to his room.

"Thanks for watching him last night after Liz got home to Jim," I said as I pushed myself up in bed and leaned against the headboard.

"Yep."

He stood there staring at me silently while he sipped his hot coffee. He knew something was up. I liked to have some drinks every now and then, but getting tanked like I did last night, especially at work, meant something bad happened. Thank God Liz stayed with me at the bar all night and made sure I didn’t drop any more glasses or puke in someone’s lap.

I don’t even know how I’m supposed to process what happened last night. Or more to the point, who happened last night. As soon as I saw his face, I knew. Those eyes were a dead give-away. Aside from the fact that I used to dream about those blue eyes and would remember his face no matter how much time had passed, I’ve had to look into those same eyes every single day for the past four years.

Fuck!

I'm pretty sure the wet dream I was having this morning was about him too.

Double fuck!

His voice was a dead giveaway as well. That deep raspy voice that murmured the words "Jesus, you're so fucking beautiful" in that dark bedroom five years ago floated through my mind all the time. After I tipped the tray full of glasses and dropped down behind the bar, I sent a panicked look to the other end where Liz sat. Without hesitating, she got to my side to see what was wrong. My frantic words of “OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD, IT’S HIM, HOLY SHIT LIZ IT’S HIM AND HE’S HERE AND HE SAW ME AND OH MY GOD I CAN’T DO THIS RIGHT NOW!” spurned her into action and she popped her head up to get a better look at him. After just a few seconds she dropped back down to my hiding place and with a squeal and a clap of her hands she confirmed it was him.

My dad stood there in the doorway tapping his foot, waiting for me to proceed. I needed more time to think about what I was going to do, but I never kept anything from my dad. With a huge dramatic sigh, I let it out. "He came into the bar last night."

Dad stared at me questioningly for a few seconds before it clicked and his eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open. He knew exactly who I was referring to. There were only a small handful of men in my life, and we both knew I would call them by name if I was talking about them. The only person we ever referred to as "he" over the last few years was….

Fuck! I still don't know his God damn fucking name!

"Did you get his name this time?" my dad asked sarcastically, practically reading my mind.

I shook my head and let it drop into my hands.

My dad let out a sigh. "Well, if he comes back into the bar and you need me to kill him, let me know. I can make it look like an accident."

If you're George Morgan’s enemy and you can see him, it's too late. He already killed you and you just don't realize it yet.

***

After a shower and two cups of coffee, I almost felt human. I checked my voicemail while Gavin got dressed and there was a message from Liz. She told me to meet her at the old location of Andrea’s Bakery as soon as I woke up. She wanted me to look at the place before I had a chance to freak out about the bomb she dropped on me in the car the previous night. Liz knew me entirely too well. She knew as soon as I came to my senses I would tell her there was absolutely no way I would let her buy me a freaking business. She was out of her mind. Forcing me to meet her at the shop was cheating as far as I was concerned. Liz was smart though, I’ll give her that. She knew this would take my mind off of my other situation.

Butler was a small college town that had a town square right in the heart of it where all of the mom-and-pop-type stores were located. Andrea’s Bakery was situated on the busiest corner. I had to clamp down my excitement as I buckled Gavin into his car seat and headed towards downtown. I would not get my hopes up about this yet. There were entirely too many things to work out and consider. How much rent would I have to pay Liz? What would Gavin and I do about healthcare? Would Liz and I be partners with this whole thing or two separate entities just sharing a space? Could our friendship survive something like this? Would Gavin have to skip college and spend his life as a male prostitute just to make end’s meet because I stuck every penny into a business that tanked?

Fuck, this was going to throw me into a panic attack.

"Are we going to Auntie Wiz’s house?" Gavin asked from the backseat, looking out his window at the cars and houses we passed.

I looked at him in the rearview mirror and reminded myself that whatever I did was all for him. He deserved the best life, and I was determined to give that to him.

"No, bud, we're not going to her house. But we are going to see her," I told him as I pulled up in front of the building a few minutes later.

I sat in the car for a minute staring at our building. It was right on the corner and windows took up the entire front of the store, wrapping around to take up the whole other side as well. It was the perfect corner store where we could each have our own window displays. Andrea’s Bakery had recently been repainted bright white and had brand new flower boxes installed beneath the windows overflowing with Gerbera daisies in every color. It looked beautiful.

Our building, our window displays. Jesus, I'm already thinking of it as mine. Liz is an evil genius and I haven’t even walked inside yet.

Speaking of the she-devil, Liz stepped out of one of the doors, holding it open with her hip.

"Stop gawking and get your ass in here," she yelled out to me, before turning around and walking back inside.

Gavin unfastened his seat belt and tried to open his door but the childproof lock prevented him from doing so.

"Come on, Mommy," he complained. "Auntie Wiz said to get our ass in dare."

"Gavin, language," I said, rolling my eyes at his refusal to listen as I got out and walked around to open his door. I grabbed his hand and helped him jump down out of the car.

"Be good, you got it?" I asked as we walked up onto the sidewalk. "Don't run, don't yell, don't touch anything and stop saying bad words or you're going home to take a nap."

"Naps can suck it."

I will not sell him to gypsies. I will not sell him to gypsies.

A bell dinged above the door as I opened it, and Gavin yanked his hand out of mine to go running into Liz’s arms.

"Ooooooh, my handsome man is here!" Liz squealed as she scooped him up and swung him around. "What's new, little man?" she asked as she set him down on top of the counter next to her.

"Mommy don't feel good today and I got a big wiener!"

Liz barked out a laugh.

"Gavin, please. Enough with the wiener talk," I complained

"But, Mommy, look," he said as he attempted to unbutton his jeans. "My wiener is really big and tall right now and it feels funny."

"Ooookay," I said as I quickly walked over and stopped him from whipping it out. "No one needs to see it and remember what I told you the other night?”

Gavin nodded in understanding and I slid him down off of the counter and told him to go look out the front window to count the cars that go by. When his face and hands were plastered against the window, I turned to face Liz who was silently laughing with her hand over her mouth.

"It's not funny," I hissed at her in a loud whisper. "Why the fuck didn't anyone tell me four-year-olds get woodys? I am not equipped to deal with this shit, Liz."

She wiped tears out of her eyes and looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry, Claire, but seriously. That is some funny shit right there. Sorry, I know nothing about four-year-old boys. When the hell did it first happen?"

"ONE!" Gavin yelled from in front of the window as a car went by.

"The other night after his bath. He was lying on the floor on his towel and I gave him a book to read while I ran down the hall to get his pajamas out of the dryer," I started.

"TWO!" came another yell from Gavin.

"I walked in the room and he rolled over onto his back and that thing stuck straight up into the air like a lightening rod. It was horrific. He kept smacking at it and saying it felt funny. Jesus Christ, will you stop laughing!"

"FWEE!"

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" Liz gasped in between laughs.

"And of all the books he could have been reading when it happened, it had to be Barney. My son gets a hard-on for fucking BARNEY," I screeched and quickly turned around to make sure Gavin didn't hear me.

Liz was hysterical at this point. Her mouth was closed and her shoulders were shaking. Every time she tried to breathe and not laugh she snorted and then choked.

“Did you ask your dad about it?” she asked between giggles and coughs.

I rolled my eyes before responding as I thought back to the conversation I’d attempted to have with my dad the other morning.

“You know my dad. As soon as I said the word penis he turned and walked out of the room and told me to call my mother. And she was just as much help as you are right now. When I asked her if it was normal she replied “Does a one-legged duck swim in circles?” I hung up on her after ten straight minutes of her doing that hyperventilating laugh thing after I told her about the Barney Boner.”

Liz finally calmed down and we both turned to check and make sure Gavin was still occupied.

"Now every time it happens he wants to show me and say 'Mom! Look at my big wiener!' So I just told him it was normal and it happens to all little boys and it just wasn't something he should go walking around telling people."

Liz patted me on the back and gave me a look of pity. "Well, that's just proof you need a man in your life, Claire. And speaking of men in your life…."

"Don't. Don't even go there,” I threatened, pointing my finger in her face so she knew I was serious. “I am so not ready to have this discussion with you right now. I'm still wondering if last night was a dream and that wasn't really him. Maybe I was just imagining things in the haze of alcohol. I mean, in all the bars, in all the towns, in all the world…"

"Easy there, Humphrey Bogart, it was him. I immediately recognized him and the friend he had with him. That was the guy who tried to make out with me that night right after telling me he usually liked girls with bigger tits but since I was pretty he would make an exception."