Crazy for You Read online

  This was such a bad idea that when Max came into work two weeks after Darla moved out and said, “I’m going to Bo’s tonight, want to come?” he didn’t say, “I don’t want to get involved with a married guy trolling for women at a bar,” he said, “Yeah.” Anything was better than another night thinking about Quinn.

  Unfortunately, Joe was standing beside him when he said it.

  “Great idea,” Joe said. “I’ll come, too. In my own car, though, in case I get lucky.”

  “Lucky?” Nick said and felt ill.

  “Well, it’s probably going to take Meggy another couple of weeks to start missing me,” Joe said. “No point in just sitting around waiting. Right, Max?”

  “Right,” Max said with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

  The night went downhill from there.

  There wasn’t anything wrong with Bo’s Bar & Grill. Nick had spent plenty of good times there: the beer was cold, the pizza was hot, the jukebox wasn’t too obnoxious, and they only did karaoke on Wednesday nights so it was easy to avoid. The place wasn’t attractive—lots of scarred Formica tables and stainless-steel chairs that probably looked like hell in the daylight—but nobody went to Bo’s for the decor. They went for the booze, the TV, and the company. Tonight, Nick could have done without the company.

  “So this is where you meet women,” Max said as he sat down, trying to sound like a man of the world and sounding instead like a high school freshman trying to sound like a man of the world.

  Joe leaned on the bar and surveyed the place. “Great pickings. Way to go, Nick.”

  “We’re not staying long,” Nick said and ordered a beer.

  The way he figured it, Joe would get bored and begin watching the game that was always on the TV over the bar. And women would start hitting on Max pretty soon—there was that face, after all—and he’d get spooked and want to go home. Then they could all go to Max’s since Joe would go anywhere there was cable, and he could get out of this nightmare.

  “Hey, Nick,” Lisa said from behind him, and he froze.

  “Hi, Lisa.” He turned around to be polite. “How you doing?”

  “Lonely,” she said, smiling at him, young and beautiful and nothing he wanted at all.

  “Sit right here, little lady,” Joe said, moving down a stool to make room between them, and Nick shot him a dirty look while Lisa boosted herself up on the stool. “I’m Joe.” He leaned toward her smiling even wider than she was smiling at Nick. “Can I get you a beer?”

  “Uh, sure,” Lisa said, looking at Nick, but he felt Max lean into him and turned to see what Max was trying to get away from.

  “You’re new here, aren’t you?” a neat little blonde was saying to Max.

  “Uh, Max,” Max said, holding out his hand for the blonde to shake.

  “Tina,” she said, taking his hand and holding on to it. “Very pleased to meet you.”

  “Uh, um, how about a beer?” Max bumbled, gesturing with the bottle he held in his left hand, since Tina had taken permanent possession of his right. “What do you say?”

  Tina dropped his hand as if it were slime and said, “You creep,” and stomped off.

  “What did I do?” Max said, panic making his voice higher than usual. “I thought you were supposed to offer them booze.”

  Across the room, Tina whispered to her friends and they all glared at Max.

  Nick looked down at the beer bottle clutched in Max’s left hand. “Well, this is just a guess, but it might have been the wedding ring.”

  “Oh, hell.” Max put the bottle down and tugged at his ring, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “What’s up?” Joe called across Lisa and then he saw Max pulling at his ring. “Good idea.” He slipped his off and put it in his pocket while Lisa watched. “My wife left me,” he told her sorrowfully. “After thirty-nine faithful years, she threw me out.”

  “That’s terrible,” Lisa said. “Thirty-nine faithful years.” She shot a look at Nick under her lashes. “Now that’s commitment.”

  Nick turned back to Max, who was still yanking on his ring. “You know, that’s probably a sign you shouldn’t be here.”

  “You sound like Quinn,” Max said, still grumbling. “Signs. Hey,” he called to the bartender, “You got any butter?”

  “Max, give it up and get her back,” Nick said. “You don’t want anybody here, you want Darla.”

  “She left me,” Max said, that mule look back on his face. “It’s been two weeks, and all she’ll say is she wants something new.” He looked around Bo’s as if it were Sodom. “Well, this is new. Damn it.”

  “I think she probably meant something new with her.” Nick looked at him in disgust. “I can’t believe you’re fucking up your marriage like this.”

  Max glared at him. “Is this your business?”

  “Great.” Nick went back to his beer. “Fine. Go for it. Knock yourself out.”

  They sat in silence for a couple of minutes, and then Max said, “I don’t notice you hitting on anybody.”

  “I’m resting,” Nick snarled.

  “You going to call Quinn?”

  “No.”

  “And you think I’m stupid. Quinn wants you, you dumbass.”

  “Well, I don’t want her,” Nick said, thinking about hitting on Lisa to get Max off his back and dropping the thought immediately.

  “Yeah, right.” Max sounded normal again, now that he was arguing. “You’ve wanted her forever.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be picking up women?” Nick said, and before his sentence was finished, a woman sat down beside Max and said, “Hello, Max Ziegler, what are you doing in a place like this?”

  Max jammed his left hand in his pocket and turned. “Oh, hell. Hi, Marty.”

  Nick squinted past him. Marty Jacobsen, one of Darla’s regulars. Good. Served Max right. He hadn’t wanted Quinn forever.

  Just for the past twenty years.

  “Darla know you’re out tonight?” Marty said, leaning into him a little.

  “Nope,” Max said, leaning back a little. Nick nudged him upright, and he said, “Just out with Nick and Joe.” He pulled his left hand out and looked at his watch, flashing his wedding ring under her nose.

  “I heard she left you.” Marty leaned a little closer. “Must be pretty dumb to leave a great guy like you.”

  “She’s just staying at Quinn’s for a while,” Max said nervously.

  “Heard about that, too.” Marty nodded, sympathetic. “Must be terrible for you, finding out like that.”

  “Finding out what?”

  “First Quinn’s mom and Mrs. Buchman and then Quinn and Darla.”

  Nick laughed as he realized what Marty was getting at, and she straightened, glaring past Max at him. “Not that I think it’s wrong or anything. I mean, Darla’s still going to do my hair.”

  “What are you talking about?” Max said, mystified.

  “I just thought, if you wanted, you know, reassured, that I could help.” Marty batted her eyes at him. “I’d love to help.”

  “Marty, they’re not lovers,” Nick said. “They’re just working on the play.”

  “Lovers?” Max said.

  “You men are so blind,” Marty said. “Quinn left the coach, didn’t she? Like the best guy in town?” She shook her head. “And then they cut their hair like that. It’s obvious.”

  “Lovers?” Max said to Nick, his brows drawing together, as the thought took hold and he got angrier.

  “Not lovers,” Nick said. “Jesus, Max, get a grip.”

  “Yeah, but people think—”

  “So how about a beer, Max?” Marty said. “I sure am thirsty.”

  “Sure,” Max said, signaling the bartender and putting a bill down on the counter. “Lady’d like a beer.” He nodded to Marty. “Well, gotta be going. Nice seeing you.”

  He slid off the barstool to Nick’s relief and Marty’s disappointment, and said, “Joe?”

  Nick turned to see Joe leaning against the bar talking to Lisa