That broke Alix up into a wild gale of laughter, garnering a few curious looks toward our table despite the loud music, the multitudes of conversations trying to be heard over it. I chuckled, too, remembering the situation. I wasn’t amused at first, but the look on Jack’s face when he found out his wife knew of his philandering was priceless.
“That was hilarious.” Alix snorted her drink, coughed, then sneezed, still chuckling. “What an ass.”
“I know. I wonder if his wife divorced him.”
Alix wiped her face with her napkin. “I would. Once a cheat, always a cheat.”
The barmaid who served our section arrived at our table with fresh drinks we didn’t order.Rut ro.Alix and I exchanged a glance.
“Where did these come from?” I asked.
“You ladies have an admirer,” she replied. “Bought you these.”
“Uh, just who bought them?” Alix discreetly gestured toward Creepy GQ model and his friend. “Those guys?”
“Nope. Fella at the bar. At the end. Older.” She dropped her voice conspiratorially. “Maybe he’s after a threesome. You never know with some of these pricks who come in here.”
After depositing that horrid image in my head, she left our table. As one, Alix and I looked at the older gentleman who’d bought us a round. Hopefully, without the expectation of a threesome. He smiled and lifted his drink in our direction, then drank. A guy maybe in his fifties, who didn’t appear as though he hoped he’d just paid for sex in a cheesy motel with a drink.
We lifted our own in reply, then did our best to ignore him.
“Maybe he’s a pay it forward kind of guy,” Alix suggested. “Trying to be nice.”
“In a dive like this? Are you kidding?”
“If it’s such a dive, why do we keep coming here?”
“It’s a tradition. We come here every week, have been for years.”
Alix shrugged. “You’re a cynic, that’s all. No one can be nice without an ulterior motive.”
“Experience, babe.”
“You’re too young to be so cynical.”
In our lighthearted conversation, I nearly forgot Creepy GQ model. Nor did I catch him staring, although I admit I didn’t try very hard to catch him at it. As close friends do, Alix and I talked of work, families, whether or not her current squeeze would ask her to marry him.
“Don’t you want to?” I asked, finishing the last of the old dude’s rum and coke.
“I don’t know,” Alix replied. “I love him. But I’m not ready for permanence.”
“Commitments are tough,” I agreed. “Even a cell phone contract is too much for me to handle. I love my freedom.”
She sent me a crusty. “Wow. At least you committed tosomething.”
“Aren’t I committed to you, my love?” I asked with a laugh.
“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that.”
“Ai-yi-yi.”
Alix swallowed the last of her drink, then gathered her jacket and purse. “The hour groweth late, my dear. I don’t want to turn into a pumpkin.”
“It’s Friday night,” I protested. “You don’t work tomorrow.”
“No, but my S.O. wants to take a drive into the mountains tomorrow. You know, see the leaves changing color. He likes to leave early.”
I grimaced. “Any dude who thinks taking a long drive to see leaves needs his man license revoked.”
