Chapter 1: Present Day
Olivia
“C’mon,Olivia!”IhearCaroline yell over the stereo that’s playing “Any Man of Mine” by Shania Twain.
“Ugh,” I groan to myself as I dig through my closet for my go-to bar outfit. Faux leather pants and a dark red top that accentuates me in all the right ways.
It’s been Caroline and Mason’s mission for the last ten years to help me get over Noah. Take Olivia out to the bars, wing woman her into some nice man's arms, and let the rest be history. If only it were that easy.
Don’t get me wrong, I have been in other relationships over the years but nothing’s ever felt right. I typically let things fizzle out after a few months because there is no point in wasting anyone else's time or effort if it isn't going to work out in the long run. I’m perfectly happy with the random hookup here and there.
Mason and Savannah finally admitted they were into each other and have been together for almost two years now, and I think Mason is planning to propose in the springtime. Caroline and Ben have been together for six months and things are getting serious between them.
I love my friends and I know they mean well, but I really don’t need to be in a relationship. I have my job, running, and plans for my future. I'm making a difference in people's lives and I want to expand that to as many people in Wisconsin as possible. I was just asked to present at a school regarding physical therapy and the different facets of it. Definitely no time for a boyfriend.
“Coming! Just curling my hair,” I yell back as I frantically try to pull myself together as quickly as possible. I don’t particularly want to go to the bar tonight but also don’t want to disappoint Caroline. She’s been the best rock of a friend I could ever asked for.
The Pub Down the Street is literally a small pub down the street. It’s a super small bar that is family-friendly, with outdoor seating during the day, but at 10 p.m. the entire atmosphere shifts into more of a club. The tables in the center of the space are moved to make room for a dance floor with booths and bench seating around the outside. We typically claim a round booth in the corner and walk up to the bar, where our favorite bartender, Felix, makes us cocktails. He knows the group rules and fits in with us like a glove. Felix has been working at The Pub for as long as I can remember. He's so good at his job that he can even predict the drinks we want simply by our moods when we arrive.
In anticipation of it being exceptionally busy, since it is Friday, we leave the house early enough that it’s not quite pitch black outside, where you can’t see and it takes forever to adjust, but dark enough that street lights are on and the warm lights from businesses and townhouses illuminate the path.
The sidewalk is lined with crisp gray-brown snow that has melted and refroze a dozen times when the sun warms the street and then drops into sub-zero temperatures at night, making the sidewalk slick in some damp areas and a potential hazard for the clumsy friends. It is me. I'm the clumsy friend. It never fails I fall at least once a year and bruise my ego and pride walking home from the bar after a few too many.
Fortunately, the Pub Down the Street is close and the three block walk, or trudge, as we call it, when the wind blows through the streets creates a wind tunnel that not even our down jackets can warm us.
Caroline and I typically walk arm in arm to and from the bar, acting out the unspoken girl code rules that no girl is left behind. More recently Ben has taken that place and wants to walk her down the street for “safety.” As if she is any less safe walking with me. It’s not like we aren’t all together. Truthfully, I feel like Ben has become a little clingy lately, and I can tell that it’s annoying Caroline by the way she rolls her eyes as he slides next to her pulling her close.
We bop down the street, ready for a night full of music and dancing together, when the green awning, with beautiful icicle Christmas lights hanging from it come into view. The smell of french fries waft into the air as people open the door. We quicken our pace in anticipation and excitement to see what Felix makes for each of us.
In a not-so-shocking turn of events, Felix reads each of us perfectly. Handing Caroline an espresso martini for her first drink knowing she needs a boost of caffeine after an incredibly hard story today. A fatal accident regarding a child, that she was responsible for covering the vast majority of the day. Those stories are always the hardest and the most draining mentally and physically. A soft smile slides across her wind blown face when he hands her the martini, a silent thank you for always getting it right.
Today, Felix gives me something different thanmy usual and I cannot help but wonder what he is seeing in me today that is different.
He hands me a short glass with a light green cocktail that smells spicy. I give him a confused look and he responds with “You look spicy today, let's give you a drink that matches.”
I feel a warmth come over my cheeks unsure how to respond, but a little embarrassed at the same time.
“Relax, Liv,” he continues, “It’s a cucumber jalapeno margarita, your shoulders are sitting up by your ears and you're standing as rigid as a two by four. You need a drink to get you all loosey goosey and on the dance floor.”
I’m instantly floored that he takes the time to notice all of those little factoids about us when he is the only bartender and there are probably fifteen other patrons waiting.
We sit at our usual small round booth in the back of the bar. It’s dimly lit and the music is thirty octaves too loud but gives us a place to lay claim when our feet start to hurt and we need a break from the dance floor. Plus it’s far enough away from everyone else that we don’t worry about leaving anything at the table throughout the night.
I’m getting settled at the booth with Caroline while Felix finishes everyone’s drinks when a deep, bone chilling draft of cold air fills the bar, when two guys walk in the front door, flinging it open as wide as it can go.
“No, Caroline,” I say sternly before she even gets a word out. Her big brown eyes shrink, and the glow of excitement fades into disappointment at my immediate rejection.
“Come on, Olivia,” she exclaims clearly annoyed. “When was the last time you got laid? You have needs. Needs that running can’t fix. Plus, look at this man.”
The man is attractive, tall and athletically built, with thighs that could shatter a watermelon. Don’t even get me started on his biceps, holy heck. His blond hair is short, and his brown eyes remind me of the espresso martini Felix just made.
“I don’t need anyone to fill my needs, that’s what Vlad is for,” I reply calmly. Vlad, the blue vibrator, lives in the comfort of my nightstand and is amazing at his job.
“Vlad is great but when was the last time you were with someone? And I mean someone who you actually had a connection with?” Caroline replies hastily.
Noah. Noah was the last time I felt truly connected to someone, and the fact that after ten years he still has this much of an effect on me makes me angry.
I returned from Oklahoma and instantly threw myself into school, work, and my friendships, promising to never get that close to someone again especially when all they do is leave.
