She’s gorgeous. She’s tattooed. There’s a particularly beautiful tattoo on her right arm. Some of it is concealed under her sleeveless top, but I see a panther, flowers, and books. I’ve never seen another tattoo even remotely similar.
All the bartenders around here are attractive. I’m sure it’s a requirement butholy hell.This girl is incredible. She’s not tall, but not exactly short either.Maybe 5’6”.Definitely taller in those heels. She’s small but, curvy.Small waist, wide hips, large tits, perfect legs. Oh hell....a thigh tattoo.Her facial features are like Jessica Rabbit’s. Her eyes are quite literally saying “Come fuck me” while her lips are saying “What can I get you?”Some of you, Rabbit. Wait, I take that back. All of you, Rabbit. Every last bit.
Louder and much slower, I hear it again. “What can I get you?”
Oh shit! It’s her. She’s speaking to me. Please tell me I didn’t just say “Some of you, Rabbit” out loud. I didn’t, did I?
The gorgeous bartender is looking at me with a strange expression. This look is clearly confusion. Her gaze wanders off to the left.She’s going to leave you in favor of serving a more sentient customer, jackass.Finally, I find my voice. “Uh, Coke” I blurt out before she can step away.
“Coke? You waded through this crowd for a Coke?”
“Ah and Jack. J-jack and Coke, please.”Stuttering? Really?
She nods slowly, and I know she’s wondering if I’m already too drunk to be served. She’s probably also considering that I could be suffering from a developmental delay that causes my words to come out scattered and nearly unintelligible. It feels like the wrong time to tell her that I can snap a neck with my bare hands and shoot a moving target at 1,500 meters. It also feels like something she needs to know.
Reaching down directly in front of me, she starts making my drink.She’s fast. It’s a simple drink, but her skill is still obvious. She slides the drink to me, and I hand her my card.
“Run it or run a tab?” She’s holding up my card and speaking fast.
My brain just isn’t operating at top speed around this girl, and it takes me a moment before I can speak. She quirks a brow.
“Ah, tab. Please. Thanks you.”
Thanks you? What is happening?
Maybe it’s me that I need to remind that I’m kind of a big deal. What the hell is wrong with me?
I don’t have time to answer that for myself before she quirks a grin. I don’t even regret my idiocy now because,hot damn! She really is gorgeous.I just thought she was pretty when her face was attentive, but not smiling.Her smile is like a fucking rainbow. Like a rainbow, this smile probably doesn’t come out a lot. When it does, I know people leave their houses to get a better look because it’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever seen.I smile back and immediately know I look like an idiot because her smile widens as she chuckles a little under her breath. She’s gone before I can form words again.
I just stare after her.
Wow. I wonder if she’ll keep serving my drinks. I wonder how fast I can drink this so she’ll come back.A million thoughts are racing through my mind, and they’re all about this girl.I’ll ask her name when she comes back. Or maybe I won’t. She’s really quick, so it may be awkward if I blurt out “what’s your name” as she’s already walking away. Who am I right now? When have I ever worked out conversations in my head? Just chill the fuck out, Elijah. She’s a girl. A human girl. YOU are a highly decorated soldier, not to mention a grown ass man. You do not get nervous. You do not get tongue tied.
My drink is empty, and she’s back in a flash, mixing another. “What’s your name?” I basically shout it at her. My intent was to be heard over the crowd, but my baritone nearly blows her backward into the wall of drink implements behind her. Or that’s how it feels anyway. Either way, it earns me another smile. She’s looking down at her hands as they work over my drink, and I see her look up at me through those long, beautiful dark lashes.
“Macy.” She says in a perfect volume that carries to me but doesn’t overpower the situation.Damn. I wish I had done that.
“I’m El-”
“Elijah.” She cuts me off. “Here you go, Mr. Washington.” And she’s gone again.
How is she doing this to me? What even is it that she’s doing to me?Shifting in my seat, I confirm that yes, my balls are still intact. It seemed for a moment that she might have taken them.She obviously got my name off my credit card. Does it mean anything that she remembered it even though she’s serving dozens of other patrons? I choose to believe it does. She probably doesn’t even have a good memory, and she still remembered my name. Yep. She’s into me.
An indeterminate amount of time passes, and I realize thatno, she is not into me.She doesn’t even glance at me unless she’s standing directly in front of me. Meanwhile, my eyes haven’t left her since I sat down.
There are far fewer people in the club now. This place opens at noon and has great lunch and happy hour deals, so people typically come early and don’t last past midnight. I already know I’ll be staying until close. It’s the best chance I’ve got at really being noticed by Macy. I need to talk to her and win her over with my usually present charm.
Maybe she’ll be boring or an idiot, and I can get over whatever this insta-obsession is.
A guy comes and sits on the stool beside me. I acknowledge him with a nod, and he smiles while nodding back. I hate to admit this, but he’s a pretty guy. One of those guys that could dress up as a woman and still be attractive. I’m not a pretty guy. Attractive, yes. I know this because I’ve been told enough but, no one has ever called me pretty. The words rugged, sexy, masculine, and a host of other non-pretty adjectives have been tossed at me hundreds of times, and I’m okay with it.
The thing is, this guy is too pretty. He attracts attention. I don’t want him to attract the wrong attention. Macy’s attention. I want Macy’s attention, and I’m afraid that I won’t be getting it now that this Paul Walker look-alike is sitting right beside me.
Looking up, I find her walking toward us. Pretty boy is partially obscured by a woman leaning forward, so Macy can’t see him yet. She’s coming for me.
Please let one of the dude bartenders serve this guy.They’re keeping the same customers that stay seated at the bar, so if she serves him first, she’ll keep serving him if he stays.He’ll definitely stay because...well, look at her.
Macy comes to stand in front of me, giving me one of those rainbow grins before getting to work on my drink. I’m watching her intently when I hear the pretty boy say, “Hey baby.”
