Night After Night

He wanted to slam his fist against the bar. “So the lack of naughty shots on my phone is the surest sign that this woman is history,” he said through tight lips, barely wanting to acknowledge the cold hard truth Michele was laying out for him.

She flashed him a sympathetic smile. “Yes, Clay. She’s history. When a woman wants to be with a man, she makes the effort to see him, to call him, to spend time with him. Just as he does with her. She aspires to be honest and upfront. To share her heart. Besides, that’s what you deserve,” she said, and squeezed his arm.

For a second there, it felt as if she lingered on his bicep. But maybe it was the booze making his mind fuzzy. Which reminded him – he needed another drink.

By the time he left, he was pretty damn sure he was buzzed. Walking to the subway stop two blocks away, he changed that assessment as the cabs and cars and lights around him grew fuzzier. He wasn’t buzzed. He was drunk. So drunk, he saw no reason why he shouldn’t text her as he headed down the steps to the platform, reaching for his phone from his pocket, missing it the first time. He nearly stumbled onto the subway car, as his fingers flew across the screen.

I can’t stop thinking about you.

He hit send, then cursed himself, wished he could take it back. He was going to get nothing in return from Julia and that would only make her exit burn more.

When he emerged on Christopher Street, he hoped that maybe the gods of drunk texting were looking out for him. That perhaps there’d been no signal underground, and he’d be saved from his own stupid desires for her.

But there it was – in his sent messages, mocking his traitorous heart.

Chapter Fifteen

Julia brushed some sugar crystals along the rim of a martini glass, and handed her signature cocktail to a woman in a standard, boring, black business suit who’d wandered in a few minutes ago rolling a large black case on wheels – the kind that was usually full of pharmaceuticals. Julia guessed she was a sales rep for one of the big drug companies and had been pitching docs all day with little success. The woman, quite simply, looked worn down.

She sighed heavily, resting her chin in her palm. Julia felt for her, without even knowing her woes. Life could be a cruel mistress. Sometimes the days wrung you dry. The nights did too, those lonely nights when all she wanted was a note, a moment, a sweet reminder that she wasn’t woman against the world, tackling everything solo.

“Enjoy,” Julia said, sliding the purple snow globe in front of the woman. “I hope it makes the day a little better.”

The woman flashed a smile. “You have no idea how much I need this.”

“This one is my specialty, but if it doesn’t fit the bill, you let me know and I’ll mix up something else for you instead.”

The woman took her first sip, and her tired eyes lit up. Julia swore a switch had been flipped and they’d gone from muted to bright blue. “This is divine.”

She smiled. “I’m glad you like it,” she said, and for now, this was enough to make Julia’s shit week a bit better. She might not have won her game, she might have lost her man, but at least she could do one thing right – mix a drink, and lift the spirits temporarily of the weary.

She moved to the tap, filling a pale ale for a regular customer, a ski

“Can I pretty please have your most special, awesomest diet coke?”

Julia gri

“Always for you,” Julia said and leaned across the bar to give her big sister a hug. “And hello handsome,” she said to Chris, giving him a peck on the cheek.

“Hey, Julia. How’s business tonight?”

“Always good at Cubic Z,” she said, beaming and glad for the chance to talk about the bar business. She was proud of her tiny little patch of land in SoMa; yet another reason why she desperately wanted to get out from under Charlie’s thumb. She didn’t want him to take over this place. The thought of him ru

“Whatever’s on tap,” he said, and she winced inside at the words. Granted, she heard that phrase a few times a night, but it reminded her of Clay, of what he’d said the first night they met here. After she handed Chris his glass, she looked from McKe

Chris smiled and shook his head. “Nope, but my network is having some shindig to celebrate our record-high ratings, so this is me dressing up,” he said, fingering the collar of his shirt.

“You clean up mighty fine,” she said, and once again her mind wandered back to Clay, to how delicious he looked in everything and nothing. She loved his sharp style, his power ties and crisp shirts, the cuffs and how he rolled them up revealing those forearms, so thick and strong.

A sharp pang of longing lodged in her chest. She wasn’t only yearning for his arms; she was longing for the whole man, inside and out, from the way he held her to how he talked to her. He always wanted to know more about her, and she felt one hundred percent the same about him. He fascinated her, with his mix of down and dirty, loving and tender. Though it seemed insane to miss someone she’d only spent a few nights with, she’d never met anyone like him who captivated her mind and her body.

She shook her head, as if she could shake off thoughts of him. She reached for the tap to pour a beer for another customer.

“Speaking of record ratings,” McKe

Julia’s hand froze on the tap and the beer started to overflow the glass.

Your guy. Oh, how she wanted him to be her guy, and all that title allowed – the nights, the days, the moments, the tangling up in each other’s arms.

“Oh crap,” she said when she realized the liquid had frothed over. Grabbing a towel, she wiped down the side of the glass, cleaned it up and handed it to a customer.

“What do you think about that?” McKe

“He’s pretty kickass at his job, right?” Chris said, chiming in. “I was talking to my sister the other day and she said he’s worked out all kinds of perks for Davis.”

Julia straightened her spine. “I don’t have any business dealings with him, but from what I’ve heard his clients rave about him.”

“Can you do an intro or something? Or do you want us to ask Jill to ask Davis?” McKe