AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Kendall never let life accrue much meaning. He was always smiling, joking, living like he didn't give a damn. But this version of Kendall was as serious as a heart attack. I furrowed my brow, considering the question.
How successful, really, had Geoff been if he was alone his whole life?
"I guess it's a matter of perspective and priorities." I stood, too.
"Okay, so what are your priorities? Because from what I'm hearing, they are Lia first, and Experience Shoreview second. What do you think about that?"
"I'll have to figure that out."
Unease danced under my skin and I was more than ready to put that question back in its little pocket in the back of my mind. I would think hard on that one while I drowned in catch-up work.
My schedule was pretty full while I was in New York. Boys' night with Kendall. Going over the accounting for Experience tomorrow. Then, the employee check-up and evaluations at Aire, and reviews for both. As soon as all that was done, I would be back down in Shoreview to meet with Lia for her final design presentation.
And once the Shoreview location was up and running, I wouldn't have a reason to see Lia again. We lived in different states, led different lives. It wasn't reasonable.
It wasn't as if I was falling in love with her; it was just that I harbored a lingering fascination for the woman I met so long ago. Maybe that shouldn't matter, but it did.
"You coming or not? I'm getting out of this dump!" Kendall hollered from down the hall.
I shook my head as I grabbed my coat off the back of my chair.
"What's the plan tonight?" I asked as I climbed into the cab of Kendall's truck.
"Well, I thought we'd hit the strip club, but seeing as you're head over heels for a Jersey girl, we'll visit the old corner bar instead. When's the last time we were there?"
"Years. I could use it."
The Corner Bar was my first job in New York. It was where Geoff discovered me slinging bottles as a self-taught mixologist.
Kendall was a good friend. Even if he was a jokester, he knew me well.
And the bastard wouldn't let me forget it.
We pulled up in front of the tired old bar after a couple minutes, ready for a great night.
"Look, it's still the same. They never did get that gutter fixed up right. Ha!"
The Corner Bar looked remarkably unchanged. A sign in the tiny window read 'Mixologist Show Come In', but it faded past legibility.
Walking through the heavy wooden front door, the whole place felt faded. Things, people, and places all changed for a reason, and this wasn't an exception. I should be glad that this bar wasn't all The Big Apple had in store for me.
It was funny; now that I ran Experience, I drank wine more than anything else, yet my start was as a mixologist. When was the last time I threw around behind the bar?
Kendall and I took seats a few stools down from where a few old heads had their eyes glued to a game on TV. There was no one at the tables and not even a soul standing behind the bar. It was eerily similar to the night I had wandered in looking for work.
"I never saw this place so dead. When I walked through the door that first time, you were back there juggling and moving like a pro. It was standing room only." Kendall shook his head and slapped me on the arm. "Let's get out of here. I know a club that's got some average grub and some fine ladies."
Chapter Eighteen
Lia
Ispent a restless morning on manic cleaning. Cooking and meal-prepping, dusting, sweeping, vacuuming; I did everything I could think of to avoid tinkering with my near-flawless design or thinking of Raphael. Although, that was proving impossible the longer and harder I tried to resist.
Our time in his hotel room last night was magical. We ate dessert and drank sweet wine, and had better sex than anything else in memory. The connection terrified me. No man I had ever met infiltrated my thoughts like this; like Mystery Guy.
Having such strong emotional responses was new. I hadn't even felt such inner turmoil through my upbringing, and that had been challenging on the good days. When I graduated high school, there was no party; there was just packing and leaving. I chose a college close enough that someone could drive me there, but far enough away that I could stay at school when I didn't have the energy to go home.
The pleasures I took in my quiet, keep-to-myself life were insignificant. Most of them took place in my head. I had my brother to talk to when there was something I thought he would love, and then I had Mystery Guy when I needed a friend or a lover. My outward reactions simply didn't exist, and I liked it better that way.
