When I went outside, my Mercedes was dead from my car door being open, that shit almost pissed me off. Savage and his dumb ass flunkies. I had to pull my old school cutlass out. This was my baby. She was for show, not to joyride in. A real collectible that I’d searched high and low for, and spent a fortune on. But, since I wasn’t the nigga to use drivers and car service unless it was absolutely necessary; I just decided to drive my baby tonight until I could get my other car a new battery.
There was a bar about ten minutes from me. Popular with steady traffic. Just a solid spot with good music and strong pours. I’d been a few times. They knew what I drank without asking, and the staff was always cool.
When I pulled up, the parking lot was nearly full. I sat in the car for a minute and just looked at the door. Music was leaking out even from here. It was packed, and the last thing I wanted was to be shoulder to shoulder with a bunch of loud drunk people who didn’t have a care in the world while I was already annoyed.
I almost pulled back off.
But I was too deep in my own head to go back to that quiet house. At least in there the noise would be someone else’s.
I got out and went inside.
It was wall to wall. People posted at the bar, spilling out onto the floor, the kind of crowd where you had to move sideways to get through. The music was decent though. Something with bass that hit right, and for a second I just stood near the entrance and let it register. Then I found a spot at the bar, sat down, and when the bartender came over I didn’t even look at the menu.
“Hennessy. Rocks.”
He nodded and moved without wasting a second of my time.
I sat there with my drink and didn’t bother looking around. I wasn’t here to socialize. I nursed it slow, let the warmth settle in my chest, and stared at nothing in particular. The noise around me started to blur into background after a while, which was exactly what I needed.
I was halfway through my second drink when the bartender came back and set a fresh glass in front of me.
“From the lady down there,” he said, nodding toward the other end of the bar.
I frowned and looked up. With all that I had going on right now, I was not about to trust a drink from a random bitch.
She was already watching me. Red hair, curly and wild, sitting on her shoulders like she hadn’t even tried to tame it and didn’t need to. Her face stopped me before anything else did. She had a face structure that didn’t make sense, skin smooth and brown, eyes that were doing something I couldn’t name from thisdistance. Then she stood up to flag the bartender for something, and I felt my jaw tighten. This girl was one of them ones. I mean beautiful was an understatement for her ass.
Her body was ridiculous. The dress she had on wasn’t doing anything to hide it, and I was pretty sure that was intentional. Thick in every place a woman was supposed to be, the kind of figure that made you forget what you were thinking about two seconds ago.
I picked up the drink she sent, held it up slightly in her direction. She looked harmless, so I wasn’t going to be an asshole and send the drink back. She smiled and yelled something across the bar.
“You really gonna sit there and act like you don’t remember me?”
I squinted. Something about her was familiar, but I couldn’t place it. The hair, the face, the way she stood with her weight shifted to one side like she already knew she had the room’s attention and didn’t care.
She started walking toward me and I watched her the whole way. The closer she got, the more that feeling of familiarity pulled at something in the back of my mind. Something old. The way her hips moved damn near had me drooling. Did she know that she was bad as hell? And who did she think I was? How did she know me?
She sat down on the stool next to mine and turned her whole body to face me instead of the bar, one elbow up, looking at me like she was waiting for something to click.
“Grizzley Harrison.” She said my full name like it belonged to her. “You really don’t remember me?”
I looked at her. Really looked. And I almost said something slick, almost told her that tonight wasn’t the night for whatever game this was. My patience was already worn to nothing and my day had been too fucked up for me to be answering dumb ass questions. Hell no, I didn’t know her ass.
“Look, shorty—” I started.
“Don’t.” She cut me off, but she was almost smiling. “Don’t ‘shorty’ me. It’s no way. No way in hell you forgot who the hell I am. Are you for real? You gone look at me and tell me that I ain’t shit, without actually saying it?” She cocked her head to the side and looked in my face long for an answer.
“I’m not in the business of pretending,” I said flat. “Right now, tonight especially, I don’t have the patience for games. I don’t know what you think you know about me or how you know my name, but—”
“Because I’m your wife. Hell, I’m supposed to be anyway.” She blurted and I knew for sure this hoe was crazy. Thankfully I hadn’t sipped that damn drink yet.
The bar kept going. Music still playing, people still talking, glasses still hitting the counter. But something in my chest went completely still.
I stared at her.
And then it happened — like a door in the back of my memory swinging open all at once. A younger face underneath this one. Laughter I hadn’t heard in years. A name I hadn’t let myself say out loud in longer than I could count.
“Ivy.”
