Page 3 of The Vow

“What if I gave you everything you needed? A house, money, time. Would that help?” Nick shot me a what-the-fuck-are-you-up-to-now? glance but stayed at his end of the bar until Alex started choking on her peanuts. “Are you all right?” I asked, slapping her back.

“I need... wa... water.”

“Nick! Water!”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t leave you alone for a second,” he said, quickly filling a glass and placing it in front of Alex.

The song on the Jukebox jumped from Rick James’ “Super Freak” to Bon Jovi’s “Born to Be My Baby” and if I believed in that sort of shit, I’d say the universe was trying to tell me something. “Are you okay?”

Alex nodded, Nick grunted, and I resumed my speech. “It’s hard trying to be creative and make a living on your own. You are on your own, I take it?”

“Yeah. Yes. I’m alone. Who are you? My fairy godfather?”

“Magic has nothing to do with it,” I told her, enjoying myself. “There’s one catch.”

“I’m not sleeping with you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” I said with a huge smirk on my face. “Your story has to be about us falling in love.” They say that good things come to those who wait, but her silence was excruciatingly painful. It felt worse than when Tommy the Knocker hit me with an uppercut that left me unable to chew for a week. “Um... you do write love stories, don’t you?”

For some reason, she blushed. Or maybe it was the effects of alcohol that reddened her cheeks. “I write all kinds of stories... when I’m not working odd jobs to pay the damn rent. You don’t even know me,” she added. “Why would you want to help me?”

“Why does Jerry Lewis host a telethon every year?”

“Are you calling me a charity case?”

Jesus Christ. Smooth, Pip. Real Smooth. So much for Conti men being charming.

“No. Not at all. My dad died when I was six, and I guess... I guess I’ve gotten used to helping people.” A group of little old ladies were leaving the bar. One of them patted me on my back implying that even at her age, she had supersonic hearing and she knew I was drowning in a sea of my own words. Alex, on the other hand, was fishing through her purse.

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that... Phillip, is it? But I don’t accept help from strangers. In fact, I don’t accept help from anyone.” She dropped some cash on the bar and stood from her stool so that her perfume was somehow released from her body. The scent was intoxicating.

“I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“So?”

“If you change your mind. We can discuss the terms of the business agreement.”

She laughed. I soaked in that laugh. It was nourishing. “Is that what you call this? What do you get from the deal?”

“A book.”

“Listen, Jerry,” she said, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there’s this thing called a library. You can get all the books you want... for free.”

“Tomorrow,” I said, casually sipping my beer. “One o’clock.”

“Hey, bartender,” she said, never taking her eyes off me.

“Yeah.”

“Your friend here is nuts.”

“Tell me something I don’t know, lady.”

Nick was leaning on the bar with both hands. Alex mimicked his stance. I sat staring at the bottles of booze lined on the shelf waiting for a few choice words to tumble from her beautiful mouth, but she simply walked away. I didn’t turn to watch her leave, although I wanted to.

“What crazy scheme are you concocting?”

“Just trying to help.”