And I did. I only made thirty dollars that night, which wasn't an entire waste, but it wasn't worth my while. I had two choices at that point. Go home, and go to bed, or text Gilly, and grab a drink. Her coffee shop job closed around this time, and due to sleeping so much the day before, I wanted a beer. A tall one. Then, I would pass out like a baby.
I texted her, asking her to meet me at one of my other local favorites.Curly’s. It was off campus, more downtown than on campus. For a small Midwestern town, Foxhill was a great town for families and college students. Situated in central Illinois, we were a combination of rural and small city. We never ran into students atCurly’s,and that was fine with us. She responded almost immediately. I grinned, waving to Fritz. He winked, and I blew him a kiss.
“I owe you, Fritz.”
“Yeah, you really do, G-baby. Have fun.”
I drove to the bar, the location on an old, beautiful street downtown. The trees had lights hanging from them year-round, giving it a hipster look. I parked, thankfully finding a spot almost immediately. It must be a quiet Monday night all over town.
Gilly was still fifteen minutes away, so I walked up to the bar to order a tall dark stout. Guinness was my bread and butter. Always had been. The bartender, who was cute but a little too pretty for me, winked and slid it toward me. I thanked him, enjoying that first sip. I had no issues sitting at a bar alone. There were other single people sitting around the bar, lost in their own thoughts and enjoying a drink, too. I had a couple of sips and felt, more than saw, someone's gaze. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, an awareness coming over me but for what, I had no idea. I turned around, looking for the source of the discomfort, but didn't see anything. I shrugged, probably imagining it.
I remained alone until a rancid smell hit my nose. A man reeking of alcohol, sweat, and vomit, leaned against the bar next to me, waiting for me to make eye contact. I didn't.
“Can I buy you a drink, sugar?” he asked in a croaky, gross voice. I cringed, pissed that Gilly was late. I hated this sort of confrontation. My pulse raced, and my palms sweated.
“No, thank you. I'm meeting someone here.” I still hadn't looked at him, instead focusing on the bar in front of us. “I'm good alone.”
“Come on, one drink won't kill you.” He leaned closer.
I backed away, now looking at him. His eyes were yellow, his hair greasy. I gagged.
“I said no.” I made a face of disgust at him, getting up to head to the bathroom or something when he reached out to touch me. Hell. No. I was a half a second away from punching him when a strong, demanding, very familiar voice barked at him with a fury that scared me.
“She said no. Leave now.” Anderson’s voice had a ring to it. A ring that told anyone they were stupid as hell to disobey it. He stood behind me, one of his hands on my shoulder. His grip was strong as his fingers dug into my skin.
The drunk widened his eyes, stuttering an apology and backed away. He tripped over a stool but didn't look back. I closed my eyes, making a raspberry with my mouth. Anderson released his fingers as anger came off him in waves.
I turned to look at him, his blue eyes lethal and his jaw clenching every two seconds. He was going to yell at me, so I spoke first. “Thank you for doing that. I appreciate it.”
He opened his mouth and closed it, his throat bobbing. Those hooded eyes glowed with anger, but for the first time, I wasn’t sure it was all directed at me.
I braced myself.
“Are you here by yourself?” His voice wasn't what I expected. It was soft, controlled, yet still dangerous.
I nodded. “My friend is on her way. I’m meeting her here.”
He gave me a brisk nod, his nostrils flaring again. “This isn't the best spot for you to be alone.”
Hold up. Was that anger now being directed atme? His eyes looked back and forth between my green ones. He was searching for something, so I masked my face. “I come here every once in a while. I've never had a problem before.”
He nodded, briskly again. His eyes searching around the bar, presumably for the drunk. “Will you be okay on your own?”
“Uh, yeah. I'll be fine,” I said, a little attitude seeping in. Then, I felt bad. I had no idea why he was there, but I was really glad he was. I reached out, putting my hand on his strong forearm, smiling sincerely at him. “Thank you for doing that. Again. I'm not used to people doing things for me.”
At the contact, he tensed. But, he gave me something of a smile with tight lips before saying, “You're welcome.”
Then, he walked away toward the other side of the bar.
I shook my head, confused, per usual when it came to Anderson. I didn't know if he left or what, but I didn't see him the rest of the time I waited for Gilly to arrive. Her laugh cued her entrance. She totally rocked her barista outfit. “Gillyweed.”
“G-Spot. I see you started without me.” She pressed a kiss to my head because she was even more touchy-feely than I was. “Sorry, I was late. My boss is an ass. Kind of like yours, but ugly. Actually no, yours is more of an asshole.”
I nodded, taking another sip. “What did Pablo do?”
Pablo was short, crude, and cranky. His eyebrows were long and bushy, his face old and crabby. Both Fritz and I told her to find a different part-time job, but no. Gilly liked the place, her coworkers, and secretly had a soft spot for the old guy. She flagged down the bartender with a wave, not a snap or a wrist flick. Anyone with eyes was drawn to Gilly. Her face radiated happiness. She let out a long groan, dramatic as hell before telling me what he did.
“Pablo made me count sugars. Literally, counting the individual sugar packets at every table. Then, take inventory of all of them. Do you want to know how many sugars there are at every table? Fourteen. Sweet and lows? Fourteen, and oh, the other one that is fake sugar? Fourteen. It took me twice as long to close.” She sipped her beer, taking a large chug. “Then, he tells me he's cutting back my hours. I'm one of the only ones who does all the work without bitching. But me. Less hours.”
