Chapter 20
Slamming his car keys down on the bar Nick took a seat in angered desperation. As he slicked his hand through his hair he impatiently leaned forward looking for a bartender and rocked back to his seat: no one. Glancing up at the television he saw the latest sports center playing, "Ugh!" Frustrated he slammed his fist down, "Hello?" he hollered in agitation.
"Sorry, sorry," a girl crept up from the back. "I was changing some kegs in the back and didn't hear you come in..."
"Can I just get a drink please?" he sneered.
"Yea, sure...whatcha drinking?" she asked sweetly as she stood before him.
"Crown on the rocks," he bluntly stated, "And keep em coming."
Nodding the bartender filled a rocks glass and reached for the bottle of Crown Royal, pouring him a glass.
"Make that a double...er, triple," Nick added.
She politely nodded and dumped the contents into a tall glass and finished pouring. "Bad day?" she asked setting the drink in front of him.
"The worst," he answered as he took a big swig of his bourbon.
"Do you wanna talk about it?" she asked cautiously.
"No," he took another drink, "Not really."
"Alright then, I'm gonna keep working at stocking the bar for tonight if you need anything," she pointed to the back.
"Can I get another?" he asked as he knocked back the rest of his drink. Nick had never been one for heavy drinking but with the way he couldn't see past Chelsea taking John's hand in front of all those people, moments away from marrying him...he couldn't think of any other way to numb the pain.
Looking at him concerned the bartender paused a moment before giving him her smile and a nod, "Sure," she made him another and placed it before him. "It's not everyday I get someone in here at 3 o'clock drowning in whiskey," she laughed. "You must of had one hell of a day."
"Can we not talk about that?" he groaned.
"Oh, yea, definitely not. We don't have to talk at all I was just--"
"I know what you're doing ok?" he snapped. "And I'm not trying to be rude but is it so much to ask to just sit in peace?"
"Alright," she pushed back from the bar, "I'll leave you."
Watching her walk away Nick was struck with guilt over the way he had treated her. "Wait," he stopped her, "I'm sorry--what's your name?"
"Ashley."
"I'm sorry Ashley, I just...well you could say I lost it all today."
"Aw," she cocked her head. "Surely that can't be true. You've got a nice car parked out there. Nice clothes. A nice watch..."
Shaking his head he stared down into his drink watching the ice melting, "Those are material things. Nothing worth while."
"Then you must not know what it's like without money," she shrugged. "Cause those things would cheer me up any day."
"I guess," he mumbled. "But I'm talking about losing the one thing that matters more then any number of sports cars or Gucci clothes. The one thing that meant everything to you. To your past, present, and future."
"I take it this is a someone," she concluded and walked around the bar to take a seat next to him.
"The only one," he added.
"Mind if I smoke?" she asked pulling out a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket.
"No," he shook his head watching her light a cigarette, the same kind Chelsea smoked. "She smokes too."
"Yea? I bet she does a lot of things many other people do too."
"You think I'm crazy," he looked away and drank.
"No," she shook her head and blew a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling. "I think you're misguided."
Following the smoke with his eyes he bit slightly on his lip, "Do you believe in love?" he asked.
"I believe in lust. Love...I think that's something only in fairy tales. But you know what's fucked up about fairy tales? They never show what happened the next day. Cinderella and the Prince? You think they lived happily every after? They spent one night together without disclosing any information about themselves and that's enough to last a lifetime? What do you think happened when Cinderella learned that the Prince snores? That he has control issues and a low self-esteem? Or how do you think the prince liked it when he learned that Cinderella has bad breath, is anal compulsive, and nags all the time? Not to mention what happened five years down the road when both of them had changed and lost complete mental and physical attraction to each other..." she trailed off as she took another drag off her cigarette.
"So basically you've had your heart stomped on too," he licked his lip and picked at his thumb nail.
Reaching out she stopped him, "No," she separated his hands, "I've always believed in having an open mind...and well, using your brain. That till death do us part crap is so unrealistic."
"Can I have another?" he pointed to his glass.
Standing up Ashley walked around the bar aware of Nick's lazy gaze following her. "You know what I don't get," she gave him another in exchange for his empty glass. "Why a sexy guy like you would let one girl ruin your day like this. Or hell, that you have no where else to go."
"There are probably a million other places I could've gone," he agreed and twirled around in his stool recognizing the effect the alcohol was beginning to have on his senses. "But I need to numb out the pain."
"Then you're on the wrong liquor," she winked as she set a bottle of Patron before him with a shot glass. "Tequila is probably not the best answer," she bit the side of her cheek as she poured him a shot, "But it sure makes things better, for a while anyway."
"Really?" he raised his eyebrows flirtatiously. "I thought you were never to drink tequila alone?"
"Is that a dare?" she pulled back innocently before picking up another glass and pouring a shot for herself. "Well, I'll raise to the challenge...cheers!" she knocked it back without a second thought as he watched in amazement.
"Alright, alright," he puckered up to his shot, looking it straight in the eye before tilting his head and opening his throat to the smooth burn.
"Yes!" she clapped her hands in excitement, "You're half way cured already!" Stacking the glasses she grabbed two more and quickly poured more tequila. "To opening your mind," she raised her glass to his and they both downed a second shot.
"Ok," he rubbed his hands together, "Two shots of tequila and what else?"
"Hmmm," she looked playfully around the bar as she licked her lips. "Darts!"
"Oh no, I'm really good--that wouldn't be fair..."
"Do you doubt this girl?" she teased.
"Actually," he thought for a second, "I don't."
"Ok then," she skipped out from behind the bar and grabbed Nick by his hands to lead him to the dart board. "501?"
"Sounds good," he agreed as he put a dollar in the machine and set it up. "Prepare to be amazed..." he grinned stepping up to the line and to throw three triple bull's eyes for a grand total of one hundred and fifty points.
"Wow," she raised her eyebrows, "Impressive," she nodded her head as she carefully selected three darts and focused closely at the board. "Now, for me," she licked her lips and squinted her eyes as she flung forward the first dart which easily landed in the bulls eye. Then came a second and then a third close behind. "Hmmm," she smiled, quite pleased with herself. "Looks like you and I are pretty well matched up."
"Ok, so then we need to make the rules a little bit more interesting," he suggested as he ran his index finger along his lips, pondering the possibilities.
"How bout you just shut up and throw again," she chuckled as she winked at him.
"Fine fine," he turned around and threw again, ending up with a score of ninety-six.
"Wow," she gasped, "Your skill is fading." Grabbing hold of his arm she guided him out of the way and followed up with another triple bull’s eye thus taking the lead.
"Oh I guarantee that I will beat you," he boasted.
"Riiiight," she smiled and touched his arm gently. "Right."
The innocent game quickly turned less innocent with double shots of tequila and wandering hands. And as the room started to spin in oblivion Nick was in oblivion as Ashley counted her drawer and passed her shift onto another bartender who looked vaguely blond and statuesque. Of course, how were such details to be accounted for when the mere act of standing took intense concentration?
"Hey blondie," Ashley chirped with a wild grin, "I'm leaving, it's up to you to follow--"
"Where?" Nick asked, intrigued. She was, after all, the first person he'd met in what felt like an eternity that made him feel alive.
"Wherever the wind blows me," she smiled and took hold of his hand. "My apartment's just a block away."
Stepping closer to her he saw the desire in her eyes, but beneath that he saw her concern. After all his years with girls he knew enough to know the sign of fear. Surely someone, somewhere, had put that look of doubt and intimidation there in her eye.
"Why don't you love love?" Nick asked, trying hard not to slur his speech.
"I already told you--"
"Why?" he repeated, hoping she would read between the lines. "Or rather, who?"
Sighing she looked up at the ceiling and then down at the floor, as though she were trying to formulate a believable lie. Surrendering to her intoxication yet holding onto her fear she shrugged her shoulders. "I guess some people you never get over. I guess some people just change you--change for you for anyone else you happen to meet later on."
"So there is a someone for you?"
"There was," she looked at him with a forlorn expression. "And from him I learned that love isn't a good thing. It's evil. It eats you alive."
"How?" she winced, "How were you eaten alive?"
"I am being eaten alive," she answered. "It never stopped. All I can do is try to stop it myself."
Leaning into her he blew gently in her ear, "I don't bite, I promise."
She smiled softly and glanced up at him with intensity. This time her eyes showed doubt and vulnerability. This time the sadness in her eyes looked to reflect the sadness in his. Perhaps this is what he'd been waiting for: someone just as lost and broken as him. Taking her hand in his Nick brought it gently to his mouth and kissed it, "Where did you say your place was again?"
Chapter 21
Cardboard Boxes Main
Homepage