I walk through the bay doors for some fresh air. Leaning against the concrete wall, I slide a cigarette into place. I close my eyes still thinking of her. Sean returns from pulling the car around back and instantly leans against the wall next to me. Unfortunately for me, he also sees the benefit of a slower day and for him, it's that this is the first free moment he’s gotten to confront me about Friday.
“So, what the fuck was up with Friday night?”
“Dude, don’t start. That idiot in the jersey had it coming. If you had heard—”
“Not with that guy!" he cuts me off. "I don’t care about the bar. You say he had it coming, he had it coming. I’m talking about the lady!”
I shake my head now confused. “What?”
“The girl you were with! At Enzo’s? Come on, don’t hold back on me.”
I kick off the wall and face him completely. “How the hell did you find out about that?”
“Mikey texted Ro and told him you were havin’ late-night snackies with a total babe, and Ro told me. Becausehe'sa good friend.”
I roll my eyes. “You guys seriously have got to get a life. And I didn’t tell you because…" I pause, looking off to the side. "Because there’s nothing to tell.”
Sean brings his palm to his forehead. “Okay, I have known you for five years—”
“Three years.”
“Okay, three years. But I’ve been your best friend—”
“Ronan’s my best friend.”
“Fine.Youhave beenmybest friend for three years. In those three years, you have talked about a woman exactly zero times. And now, allof a sudden, you just bring this girl to Enzo’s, and yourresidenceI may add, and there’s nothing to tell?”
I consider all of the ways that I could respond to that, but in keeping with my newest trend, I try the truth. “The guy selling the Maverick, it’s his daughter. We met when I returned the car. Ran into each other at Enzo’s once before and then again on Friday. We hung out. That’s all.”
“Oh, you just hung out? After closing. With a good-looking girl. Whose dad owns the car of your dreams? While eating the world’s best pi—”
This time, it’s me who does the interrupting. “Yes, Sean. We just hung out. Now can we drop it?” I realize it’s my anxiety causing me to snap. I take a long drag of my cigarette to consider everything. Talking about this makes it so much more real. What if she’s already forgotten about the whole thing? See, this is why I don’t do this. There’s now something at stake. No, keeping our time tucked away in my memory is its safest place for now. There’s a scary thought.
“Well did you at least get her number?”
Jesus, even he thinks of it. Again, I get restless. Dropping my smoke, I move my hands to my hips, hang my head, and exhale a defeated sigh.
“No. I didn’t,” I say angrily, and as I do, I realize I’m mad at myself, not him. Dialing it back, I lower my voice. “Can we just leave it alone?” I drop my hands and take my first step, heading back inside.
“Hey, Jay,” I stop as Sean makes a poor excuse for whispering. “If it doesn’t work out with the pizza girl…" he pauses, pointing behind me. “Maybe you can shoot your shot with her.”
18
Claire
The short, stocky, guy that Jay’s been talking to, points in my direction. When I pulled into the lot, parking off to the side so I had time to go unnoticed, I saw them already outside, both leaning against the wall. The stance he was in brought me right back to first seeing him on Friday night — foot perched, cigarette in hand. I almost left right then, but I thought him seeing me leave may somehow actually be worse than just showing up.
I realize that he could easily interpret me coming to his work not once, but twice, as completely psychotic, but I’m putting myself out there…again. Leaving it all on the table so to speak. So, after watching them talk for the last five minutes, while my brain thought of every possible outcome here, I decided there was no turning back.
I definitely had this whole stalking thing reversed.
Now I’m here, standing in front of Monroe’s, looking at the back of Jay’s beautiful head and suffocating a white, cardboard Whisk!box with a firm grip and clammy hands. Romantic. I can hear the music from the indoor speakers playingTiny Dancer,and I smile thinking back to our conversation about our favorite singers.
When he said his were these incredible legends, I was almost self-conscious. He’s such an old soul, and there I was, about to admit that mine is a rock-pop singer with a pink mohawk and an attitude problem. My saving grace was that Elton John and Pink! practically dress the same so, no argument there. Plus, that girl can sing.
Suddenly, Jay whips that gorgeous body of his around, and the fact that his face instantly relaxes when he sees me is all I need. He’s a man of few words, but the way his strong exterior seems to settle, tells me everything I want to know. Everything I was hoping for.
Knowing I should probably speak, I search my brain for something that says“It’s totally normal that I just showed up here!”Reasoning, an explanation, a made-up story for all I care, but I struggle to find the best way to explain that my brain wouldn’t turn off until I saw him again.
