“Of course he does. Remind me why you needed me to come. I think your friend will keep you company.”
Cars and trucks fill the parking lot and line the street. We follow a steady stream of people walking casually towards the entrance. It’s going to be a busy opening night.
“We are celebrating small wins, remember?” She laughs.
“Oh, right? How could I forget?” I say, rolling my eyes dramatically.
The man ahead of us in line opens the heavy wooden door and gestures to let us go first.
“Thank you.” I smile up at him. Woah. I’m met with dark brown eyes and hair that reaches the collar of his black concert T-shirt. Bold black lines and vibrant colours cover both of his arms. The type of classic tattoos that never go out of style. Nice.
“Enjoy your evening, ladies,” he says with a wink as we pass. Peering down at me, he says, “Maybe I’ll see you inside and buy you a drink later.”
“Maybe,” I laugh, dipping my head and tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear.
“Come on, you hussy.” Shaking her head, April takes me by the hand and leads me through the entrance.
“What? I thought we were celebrating small wins. He looks like he knows how to celebrate,” I say in mock protest. As fun as it would be to flirt and have fun this evening, I have no desire to hook up with a random stranger tonight. Tempting, but no.
Like a wave, music crashes over us as we walk farther into the room. I can hear the low hum of conversation mingling with the beat as people lean close to talk at high-top tables and around the busy bar. Warm light glows overhead, casting a golden haze across the room. Servers weave through the crowd balancing trays of drinks up high. People are gathered in front of the stage. Some are dancing close together, moving to the rhythm, lost in one another. Others are in small circles of friends, dancing as they laugh and sing along with the band.
“Wow, this place is amazing,” I say in awe, looking around the room, forgetting all about the man from the door.
“I know, right? It’s beautiful.”
I can’t help but notice the sharp contrast between Emerley’s favourite dive bar and this. Bob’s Bar and Grill welcomes the locals. Little has changed in the aesthetics since it opened in the eighties. The floor always feels a little sticky, multiple neon signshum and glow, and the old jukebox doesn’t always work. People have tacked Polaroid pictures to the walls to document the passing of time. But the beer is cold, there are amazing theme nights, and you can always be sure to recognize the person sitting next to you at the bar.
It’s easy to tell that The Riff’s goal is to attract seasonal residents and tourists and all their money. Big-city amenities nestled in beautiful cottage country. I’m sure it’s a smart business move, but if I’m honest, I hope this kind of nightlife never makes it as far north as Emerley.
“So, when are we going to meet up with your friend?” I ask, swaying to a familiar ballad from the nineties.
As April looks around the room, I watch as her eyes brighten and smile widens as she points at the man confidently striding towards us with a smirk on his handsome face.
“Seriously?That’s your friend?” I lean in to whisper in her ear. He appears to be at least six three and spends a good part of each day in a gym. His wine-coloured shirt stretches across his broad chest, and his collar is unbuttoned, showing a thick gold chain. His dark hair has prominent streaks of grey—he is well on his way to becoming a silver fox.
“He sure is,” she sighs dreamily as he approaches.
“You have no plans to come back to our hotel room, do you?” She has totally played me.
“Nope,” she says, giving my hand a squeeze. “Can you blame me?”
No, I can’t say that I do.
“Hello, Sugar. I’m so glad you could make it tonight,” he says, pulling her hips forward and dipping his head to give her a searing kiss. Breaking away, he gives her one more brief kiss on her lips.
Why am I here again?
Looping his arm around her shoulder, he turns to me and extends his other hand to shake mine. “Hi, I’m Vaughan. You must be April’s friend Beck. She has told me so much about you.”
“Nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.” Glancing around the room, I say, “The bar is beautiful.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you could make it. Come with me. I have a private table for us over here.”
He’s leading us across the busy room when a patron stops to congratulate him. I use this opportunity to grab April’s attention and say, “Really, you have told him so much about me? I didn’t know he existed until yesterday. And I didn’t know his name until two minutes ago. Where did you meet him, and just how good friends are you?”
“Very good friends—for a few months now.” She bites her lip and dips her head. “Actually, his son introduced us.”
“April!” I gasp with wide eyes. “Are you kidding me?” I rush out.
