“Don’t worry about it,” I respond, still nervous to push for more information. “There are tissues on the counter in the bathroom.”
“Would you mind if I sleep here tonight?” she asks.
“Not at all,” I tell her. “I’ll tell you what,” I smile, “you can even have the bed.”
“You mean it?” she asks. “I mean, it’s your bed. I’m not just going to kick you out of it.”
“Whatever would make you most comfortable,” I tell her.
Regardless of anything else, I know what this feels like. Maybe what I felt isn’t exactly what she’s feeling now, maybe it is. Either way, I know that gutted feeling.
“Thanks,” she says and walks to the bathroom to grab a tissue for her nose and another for her eyes.
I give her some space while remaining close enough that she doesn’t even feel a hint of alone right now.
She comes back out of the bathroom with a blank expression on her face and she doesn’t say anything as she walks past me toward the bedroom and shuts the door behind her.
So, this will be two nights on the couch. I could be irritated, but tonight’s not the night for that.
In the morning, though, I’m going to try to talk to her and hopefully find out what happened. If I don’t know what’s going on, I can hardly do anything to help.
Not that there’s a whole lot I can do to help anyway.
* * *
When I wake up, it’s morning or early afternoon. All I know right now is the sun is bright coming through my window.
I rub my eyes and sit up on the couch. It takes a few seconds to remember why I’m here and not in bed, but when my brain comes back to me, I get up and walk to my bedroom.
The door’s open, the bed is empty.
“Jessica?” I call, but there’s no answer.
I’m having a hell of a time remembering whether it’s Sunday or Monday. Until I land another contract, it doesn’t really matter so much, but that might tell me where Jessica went.
I call her name again, but she’s not here.
My phone is on the coffee table, but there’s no message from her.
Apparently, though, it’s Sunday.
I type a message, “Hey. Sorry I wasn’t up when you left. How’d you sleep?” but I don’t bother waiting for a response.
The hot water hasn’t run out, so if she took a shower this morning, it’s been at least an hour.
I clean myself and take a quick look through the help wanted section, not expecting to find much. This isn’t usually how I get my jobs anyway, but it’s always worth a look. My phone starts ringing, though, so I quickly fold the paper and answer the call.
“Hello?”
“Hey Eric,” it’s Jessica, “are you still planning on coming in to help finish up training with Cheryl?”
“I didn’t know we were doing a second day,” I tell her, “but yeah, I can come in. Are you already at the store?”
“We’re not at the store,” she says. “We’re at the bar. I think you should join us.”
I laugh. “What kind of training are you doing in the bar?”
“Mostly which liquors go best with which chasers,” she says. “Are you coming or not?”
“Sure,” I tell her. “Where are you?”
She gives me the name of the bar and I catch a cab. I’m not sure if I’m going to end up drinking anything or not, but it’s clear enough that they’re already drinking.
I didn’t bother to don anything fancy, just a clean white t-shirt and a pair of jeans. When I walk into the bar, though, I realize that I might be a little overdressed.
Calling this place a bar is misleading, as it’s more of a dungeon with people drinking in it. It’s not a sex or fetish club by any means, but I’m certainly wearing the most clothing out of anybody in here.
I find Jessica sitting at the far end of the bar. She’s chatting with some woman I don’t know: certainly not Cheryl. As I approach, she just looks up at me, gives me the slightest nod and goes back to her conversation.
“What’s up?” I ask when there’s a break in the conversation.
“Oh, aren’t you a handsome one?” the woman asks. “My name is Delilah.”
“I’m Eric,” I tell her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Jessica here was just telling me about you,” Delilah says, “something about a nice dick?”
“Hey, can I talk to you for a second?” Jessica asks me and, before I can say yes, she’s on her feet, stumbling into me.
“You all right?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I just need a bit of fresh air.”
“Where’s Cheryl?” I ask. “I thought you were out with her.”
“Well, we got together and talked about some things, but she didn’t want to come to the bar,” Jessica answers.
I help her outside, and once the sun is in her face, she takes a deep breath.
“Would you mind taking me home?” she asks.
“I took a cab, but I’ll be happy to make sure you get there safe.”
“I drove,” she says. “I can’t drive home for obvious reasons, though.”
“Sure,” I tell her and ask for her keys.
“Yeah, that’s part of the problem,” Jessica says. “I kind of made a little wager with Delilah in there that kind of lost, so I ended up paying for drinks for both of us, only I didn’t have enough money to cover all of it, so I gave her my car keys for collateral. You’re going to need to go in there and pay the balance on my tab and get the keys from her. I don’t think it should be much more than a hundred dollars.”
“A hundred dollars?” I ask.
“Yeah,” she says. “I’ll pay you back when you take me home, I just didn’t remember to bring enough for evverry eventuality.”
“Come in with me, stand at the end of the bar near the door and don’t talk to anyone or order any drinks or do anything but wait for me, okay?” I tell her.
I’ve never been to this place before, but I’ve got a really bad vibe as I go back in. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that nearly everyone in the room is staring at me.
They’re not goths and they’re not ravers. They’re not the typical club or bar crowd either. I’m not sure how to describe the clientele other than to say that they appear very territorial and I seem to be infringing on that territory at the moment.
Still, we can’t really get out of here until I get Jessica her keys back.
I walk back down to the end of the bar and find Delilah.
“Hey, you did come back,” she says. “I was wondering if you would.”
“Yeah,” I tell her. “I understand that my friend owes some money for drinks, and I’m here to settle up and get her keys.”
“All right, dearie,” Delilah says, and leans over the counter toward the bartender. “How much is my tab?”
The bartender answers, “Two-fifty.”
Fucking hell.
“All right,” I answer and pull my wallet out of my pants pocket. I remove my card from inside and set it on the counter.
“Too bad,” Delilah says. “I was really looking forward to taking that Merc out for a test drive.”
“What was the bet?” I ask.
“What was what?” Delilah responds, cupping a hand to the side of her ear.
“What was the bet?” I ask again.
“Oh,” Delilah nods. “She said that you wouldn’t come if she called you. The way she said it, I had a feeling that you would.”
“You had a feeling?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Delilah says. “Listen, she’s not good for you. She doesn’t appreciate you. If you’ve got more in those pockets, I bet I could find you someone that’ll put a smile on your face without all the drama that one’s going to give you.”
“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” I tell her.
“Too bad,” she says again.
The bartender hands me back my card and I sign the receipt. I put the card in my wallet, my wallet in my pocket, and I turn back toward Delilah, saying, “Now, the keys if you don’t mind.”
“You know we don’t bite,” she says.
“I never said you did,” I answer. “I’d just like to get her home. It’s kind of a rough time.”
“Oh, I think we all know about that, sweetie,” Delilah says and stands up to better access her front pocket. She pulls the keys out and holds them above my open hand but, before dropping them, she leans in close to my ear and says, “If you change your mind, give me a call.”