“I don’t know … Audrey is my oldest friend. I barely know you.”
“What do you want to know?”
“What do you want with my friend?”
“I told you. I want to see her again.”
“Why?”
I let out a breath. “Because I like her. And I can’t stop thinking about her.”
“And?”
“And?”
“I’m going to need more than that to go behind my best friend’s back, pretty boy.”
I’d known this was unlikely to be easy, but damn. She was enjoying this, I could tell. “I don’t know what you want to hear, but I’ve met a lot of people, and I haven’t met anyone like her before. She’s just …” Interesting, incredible, the sexiest person I’d ever seen?
“She is.” Something in my expression must have passed her test because she pulled at the strings of her apron and gestured to a booth in the corner. “I’ve got to handover to night shift. Give me a minute.”
Ok, this was looking up. Tiffany wasn’t exactly on board yet, but she hadn’t told me where to go, and from the little I knew of her, she wasn’t the type to mince words.
I moved over to the booth she’d directed me to. Being in the bar brought back memories of Audrey, and I wondered what the chances were of her walking in again tonight. Did she visit Tiffany here often?
I eyed the door as I waited.
When Tiffany returned, she set down a beer in front of both of us. “Looked like you could use one,” she offered.
“Thanks.” I tilted my chin upwards, feeling the need for some neutral conversation. “What’s up with the roof?” I hadn’t noticed it the other night, but now that I had, I couldn’t avoid seeing the array of odds and ends adorning the ceiling. Was that a parasol next to a tricycle? “Did the decorator buy out a garage sale or something?”
“Or something. However, you’re not far off. Story is, when Harry—that’s the owner—when his parents died, they left a chunk of money to him along with all their stuff. And because he couldn’t bear to sell off all their knick-knacks, he used them to theme the bar and pay homage to them, especially since it was only with the inheritance that he was able to open the bar to begin with.”
“That’s sweet.” I meant it.
“Yeah. He’s a sentimental old fool, even if he can’t run a bar for shit.” She spoke fondly. “Luckily, he has me for that.”
A tentative silence settled between us, the kind that existed between two people who were new acquaintances. I wanted to bring up why I was here again but didn’t want to push the subject. Thankfully, Tiffany did it for me.
“I’m not giving you her number.”
I tried to hide my disappointment, but I suspected it was still obvious. “Ok.”
“But I will help you.”
“Oh.” It occurred to me what she might be implying. “I know this is going to sound like a line, but I can’t give you my phone number. No offense, but it’s not a great idea for me to hand my personal details to anyone, and as you said before, we don’t really know each other.”
“No offense taken. Anyway, that’s not what I had in mind.”
“So, what do you have in mind?”
“That Audrey is her own woman, and I think she should get to decide if she’s interested in seeing you again. She shouldn’t be put into an awkward situation where she says yes to a date just because you’ve put her on the spot.”
Well, damn. She had a point. I’d been propositioned enough by instant messages that I knew how uncomfortable it was when someone you didn’t know expected something from you.
“So what do I do?”
“I guess it’s time to prove you’re not just a pretty face, isn’t it?”
