“Craig wants teddy bears. He says horses are too scary for little kids,” Kim said, referring to her husband who helped out around the bar now and then as he looked for a regular bartending gig.
“Can I vote for otters instead?” Julia offered. “Have you ever seen an otter that’s not utterly adorable?”
Kim laughed. “Can’t say I’ve ever technically seen an otter at all. But I will hunt out otter wall-art now.”
Julia held up her arms in the victory sign. “Ladies and gentleman, my greatest accomplishment may indeed lie in convincing my friend Kim to go for the otters.”
She also helped her sister with final wedding prep, which included last-minute visits to boutiques and stores as McKenna chose gifts for the guests. No gifts for herself, though; McKenna and Chris had specifically asked for none, with the invitation saying, Your presence is our gift. In lieu of presents, please consider a donation to your local animal shelter.
Tonight, she popped into the bar to bring Julia a sample of cake. “I changed my mind at the last minute. I think I want to get this cake. Try it,” she said, thrusting the carton across the bar.
Julia reached for a fork and took a bite, and her eyes rolled in pleasure when the sweet cake hit her tongue. “This is amazing.”
McKenna clapped. “Oh good! Wedding cake is usually awful. But I want to have an amazing cake.”
“Speaking of amazing things, try my newest concoction.” She whipped up a Heist and slid it across the bar. “I named it for Clay,” she said in an offhand way.
McKenna’s eyebrows rose. “Wait! Are you back together with him?”
She shook her head. “No. We talk on the phone sometimes though,” she said, adding an olive to the martini she’d just made for another customer.
“What do you talk about?” McKenna asked, her voice dripping with curiosity.
Julia shrugged playfully, remembering the late-night conversations with him, the way his voice went low and husky when he asked her what she was wearing, then when he proceeded to tell her exactly what he wanted to do to her when he’d removed every last shred of her clothing. “This and that.” She handed the drink to the customer and returned to her sister.
“Are you having phone sex with him?” McKenna whispered, her eyes wide and eager for a yes.
She nodded. “And we talk too. About whatever. Our days. Movies. Books. Life. That sort of thing.”
“Wow,” McKenna said and her jaw was hanging open. “So are you going to see him again?”
“I think he likes the barrier. I think he probably figures it’s for the best.”
“Why?” McKenna asked, holding up a hand as if to say what gives. “I don’t get it. You like him. He likes you. You have great phone sex. What is stopping the two of you from getting together?”
Instinctively, Julia’s eyes flashed to the door, checking for Charlie or Skunk. Neither was there, but they might show up any day. That was the real thing keeping her and Clay apart. Keeping her distant from everyone, come to think of it.
“Who knows,” she said evasively as a gray-haired and sharp-dressed man in a suit and tie raised a finger to grab her attention. “I need to go tend to some other customers. Can’t wait for more cake this weekend.”
She headed to the other end of the bar, slapped down a napkin, and flashed a smile at the older gentleman. “What can I get for you tonight?”
“A friend of mine tells me you make the most amazing cocktail ever,” the man said, speaking in a most proper voice. He didn’t have an accent per se; he simply had an air of sophistication about him, from the well-tailored suit to the classy speech. “A Purple Snow Globe, I believe?”
“Indeed. One Purple Snow Globe coming right up.”
She mixed the drink and deposited it in front of him. When she returned five minutes later to check in, his eyes were sparkling and he was licking his lips. “That is a divine creation,” he told her, then extended a hand. “I’m Glen Mills. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me soon.”
“Why will I be hearing from you soon, Glen? You gonna offer me a job at some swank new bar you’re opening?” she asked playfully.
“Not exactly,” he said, with a twinkle in his eye, then he pushed off from the stool, and walked away.
She shook her head in amusement. The things men said in bars never surprised her, nor did she ever put any faith in them. Something about his name felt familiar though. Glen Mills. The named nagged at her brain for a spell, and she turned it over several times, like a strange object she could decipher if she looked at it from another angle, but she couldn’t recall where she’d heard it before, so she let it go.
She could picture him perfectly when he told her he was crashed out on his couch, his shoulders sore in the way he liked from a hard workout tonight. She imagined him freshly showered, in shorts and a T-shirt, a combo she rarely saw her sharp-dressed man in, but a fantastic look nonetheless.
“Tell me why you like boxing,” Julie said, as she closed the door to the tiny office at Cubic Z, slipping away for a short break while Kim handled the bar during a quiet time. She was spending her rare free minutes her favorite way. Talking to Clay. It wasn’t the same as being in the room with him, but he was a far better phone date than any in-person date she’d ever had with another man. Though, he didn’t call these stolen chats dates. He didn’t call them anything. Maybe because the two of them were so undefined right now. They took what they could get from each other, but didn’t push too far.
“Because I have to use my mind and my body,” he said.
“Mmm. Two of the things I like about you.” She sank down into the office chair, leaning back against it, letting his voice warm her. “And how do you use your mind when you’re hitting a bag?”
“You have to focus with boxing. You have to know exactly where to land a punch, and then deliver on it.”
“How did you get into boxing in the first place?”
“In high school.”
“I thought you played football in high school?”
“I did. But I had no choice about boxing. Brent did it.”
“And that meant you had to?”
“Can’t let my little brother beat me. I had to keep up with him. Wouldn’t let him have the chance to win. So I took it up too.”
“I can beat McKenna if I have to,” Julia joked.
“Girl fight. Don’t get me excited,” he said playfully.
“But I like getting you excited.”
“And you’re very good at it. You excel at that,” he said, then paused and she heard the slightest rustling sound.
“You stretching out on the couch?”
“I’m making myself more comfortable.”
“Do your shoulders still hurt?”
“A little.”
She sighed wistfully, her eyes fluttering closed as she imagined being there with him, soothing out the soreness from the punches he’d thrown. “If I were there I’d rub your shoulders for you. You could lean back into me and I’d make you feel better.”
“Mmm…I bet you would.”
“You can rest your head between my legs while I massage you.”
He laughed. “If I’m between your legs, there’s no massaging going on. Unless it’s of you and with my tongue.”
She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Always able to make things dirty, aren’t you, Clay?”
“If you’re going to start talking about being between your legs, I’m going to start telling you what I’d be doing if I were there, and it wouldn’t be lying still.”