Twenty-Eight and a Half Wishes Page 36
I sat down, wondering if he had gone to the bathroom, too. After a few minutes, the waitress returned with my food. She looked apologetic.
“Your date said he suddenly didn't feel well and had to go. But he paid for your dinner and left money for you to take a taxi home.”
I felt like crying although, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. I didn’t even like him. But if someone like him dumped me, then I really was a pathetic loser.
“Could you just box it up?” I asked. “I think I’ll take it to go.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “In fact, I’ll just wait out front.” I couldn’t stand the embarrassment of waiting alone at the table.
She patted my arm. “For what it’s worth, sweetie, you can do a whole lot better than that weasel. You go wait in the bar. My name’s Bridgette. Tell the bartender I sent you over and he’ll take care of you. I’ll box this up and bring it over. ”
The crowded bar roared with conversation, not surprising on a Saturday night. I spotted an open stool at the counter and sat down. The bartender walked over.
“What can I get for ya, darlin’?”
“Um, Bridgette said to tell you she sent me over.” I had no idea why, but I couldn’t see a reason not to tell him.
“Oh, so you’re her.” He looked me over. “Bridgette told me what happened. I can’t figure out why a guy would walk away from you, darlin’. His loss.” He shook his head. “Drink’s on the house. What’s it gonna be?”
“Uh, a glass of wine?”
“Red? White?”
I had no idea. “White?”
“Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio…” his list continued and I was lost. He saw the confusion on my face and laughed. “Not a wine drinker, eh?”
He was a burly looking guy, with tattoos and piercings, but he had a friendly face. His nametag said Sloan. For whatever reason, I trusted him. “Honestly, I’m not really a drinker at all. I only had my first drink a few days ago.”
“Ah, a virgin in our midst.”
I felt my face burn and only seconds later realized he meant a virgin drinker.
“Don’t worry, darlin’, I’ll take good care of you. Be right back.”
I waited for Sloan to return with my drink, when I heard a voice in my ear.
“What’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ alone? Where’d that Great White Whale get off to?”
I turned around, half expecting Joe to be standing behind me. Instead, it was Daniel Crocker. My heart leapt into my throat.
“Uh…”
He slid in between my stool and the one next to me, which was occupied by a woman deep in conversation with the man beside her.
He leaned his head close to mine. “I’m Dan. What’s your name?”
I froze in panic. I knew I had to say something. “Rose.”
“Ah, a fittin’ name for a beautiful flower such as yourself. Can I get you a drink?”
“I…I already have one. Comin’. He’s bringin’ it.” I was babbling like an idiot. I had to get it together.
He laughed. “Do I make you nervous, Rose?”
I resisted the urge to bolt from the room and run all the way home. I had to find out if he had something to do with Momma’s murder, or at the very least if he recognized me. The latter was answered immediately.
“Do I know you from somewhere?” He tilted his head to the side to study me. “You look so familiar.”
I shook my head. “No, I don't think so. I’m sure I would remember you.” He looked different than he did in the DMV. That Friday afternoon, he had been scruffy and unshaven. Tonight he was cleaned up and I had to admit he looked much better, but he exuded an aura that left me feeling oily.
“I’m usually pretty good with faces and I’m sure I’ve seen yours, I just can’t figure out where. Hmm….”
Sloan returned with my wine and glanced at Daniel, then raised his eyebrows. My eyes widened and I hope I conveyed my concern. Sloan’s smile fell and he engaged in a stare-off with Daniel. “What can I get for you, Dan?”
I about fell off my stool when I realized Sloan knew him.
“I’ll take a draft beer, and if I can work it out, this pretty little thing.”
Sloan leaned forward looking into Dan’s face, all friendliness gone. If I had walked in and encountered this Sloan, I would have waited in the lobby instead of at the bar. “This here’s my little sister. I suggest you go pick up some other ‘pretty little thing'.”
Daniel Crocker’s body jerked, his face turning a bright red that I suspected wasn’t from embarrassment. He and Sloan glared at each other a bit longer. Daniel’s eyelid twitched. His face lit up with an evil grin. “It’s not like she was wearing a fuckin’ sign or anything.” He left without his beer.
“Thanks,” I said, humiliated that I needed saving. I had to admit I wasn't sorry he left even if I hadn't gotten any information out of him.
Sloan watched him walk away then gave me a half-hearted smile. “Well, since you told me you were new to drinkin’, that pretty much told me you were new to hangin’ out in a bar, too. You gotta watch out for guys like him. They’ll see you as fresh meat, no offense.”
“None taken.” I was clueless to the minds of men.
“You look really green. They’ll latch on and try to take advantage of you. If you’re gonna hang out in bars, you’re gonna need to be more assertive.”