He gave me a nod and began pulling bottles from different shelves while I looked back at Graham.
“Yes. I bailed on Caleb Malone. Somehow he managed to be boring and obnoxious all at once.”
“Damn. And here I was thinking we authors had cornered the market on boring and obnoxious.”
“Hate to break it to you, but it might be an all-artist trait.”
He shook his head in faux disappointment and asked, “Tell me more?”
I laughed and shrugged. Why not. Addie was having dinner with her folks tonight, and Katya was in Australia for a job. It would be nice to rehash the evening. Even if it was with Graham Forrester.
“Well,” I said. “He went on and on about the band’s upcoming tour, his killer riffs, the diet and workouts he’d been doing to prepare…” I rolled my eyes. “He picked me up, cut off my hello, and never stopped talking the entire time. He even interrupted my dinner order to comment on my choice of protein and why he hasn’t consumed it for the past three months.”
“Maybe he was nervous and trying to impress you.”
“Pretty sure that wasn’t it.”
“How do you know?”
I peered at him, wondering if he was friend or foe. We’d had a nice moment in the cab the week before. And then there was the shoe and the poem…
“Well,” I said. “In between bites of his salad he told me we’d have to fuck slow later because he was trying to conserve energy.”
Graham’s mouth hung slack for a moment. I tried not to laugh as I turned toward Cole, who was delivering a shimmering white cocktail with a swirl of lemon peel. It matched my white dress and bright yellow, faux leather obi belt.
“It’s gorgeous,” I said and took a sip. “You’ve outdone yourself, my friend.”
He tipped an imaginary hat and moved back down the bar.
“What is it?” Graham asked, pointing to the drink.
“I’ve no idea.”
“I thought it was your usual.”
“My usual is whatever Cole feels like making me. I don’t think he’s ever served me the same drink twice.” I took another sip and looked back to Graham. “So? No response to Caleb Malone’s version of romantic first date banter?”
“I think I’m speechless.”
“I was too. And then I excused myself and went out the back door.”
“I can’t say I blame you.” He paused, a frown creasing his brow as though trying to make a decision, and then gestured to the stool beside him. “Do you want to sit.”
I glanced over my shoulder. The bar was still empty, but I knew it wouldn’t be for long.
“For a minute,” I said, sliding onto the stool. I took another sip of my drink and then turned toward him so that my back was to the rest of the room. “And now it’s your turn to tell me why you’re here alone and not with your date.” I said, looking at him expectantly.
“That wasn’t a date. That was a meeting with my agent, Francesca.”
“That’s your agent? Damn. She’s gorgeous.”
“She is.”
“No… extracurricular activities happening there?”
“She’s a lesbian.”
“Welp. Bummer for you.”
