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As he spoke, Mike did his best to appear interested.
And he was, at least in a self-interested way, if only to see what he was up against. But as the minutes rolled on, he began to feel as if his future were that of a salmon swimming upstream. Even he could see why Julie was interested in Richard. He was intelligent (and yes, good-looking, he conceded, but only if one like rugged, athletic types), and unlike Mike, he was both college educated and well traveled. Though he didn't laugh or joke much-or appreciate Emma or Henry when they did-it seemed that his discomfort stemmed more from shyness than arrogance. And the way he felt about Julie was obvious. Whenever she spoke, Richard's eyes never left her face; he acted like a husband waking up on the first morning of his honeymoon.
Through it all, Mike kept smiling and nodding, hating Richard's guts.
A little later on, as Emma and Julie caught up on some of the latest news around town, Richard finished his drink. After asking if Julie wanted anything else, he excused himself to head back to the bar. When Henry asked him if he wouldn't mind grabbing another couple of beers, Mike stood as well, volunteering to go with Richard.
"I'll help you carry them back."
They reached the bar, and the bartender signaled that he'd get there as soon as he could. Richard reached for his wallet, and though Mike was right beside him, he stayed silent.
"She's a great lady," Mike finally offered.
Richard turned and seemed to study him before turning away again.
"Yes, she is," he said simply.
Neither of them said another word to each other.
Once they were back at the table, Richard asked Julie if she'd like to dance, and after saying good-bye, they were gone.
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Emma asked.
Mike shrugged, not wanting to answer.
"And he seemed nice enough," Henry added. "Kind of quiet, but polite."
Mike reached for his beer. "I didn't like him," he said.
"Oh, now there's a surprise," Henry said, laughing.
"I'm not sure I trust him."
Henry kept smirking. "Well, since you missed your opportunity, I guess we'll have to hang around for a while."
"What opportunity?"
"You said tonight was the night you were going to ask her out."
"Shut up, Henry."
A little while later, Mike sat drumming his fingers on the table. Henry and Emma had gone to say hello to another couple they knew, and now that he was alone, Mike tried to figure out what it was exactly that he didn't like about Richard Franklin.
Besides the obvious.
No, there was more to it than just that. No matter what Henry had said or what Julie seemed to think, Richard didn't strike Mike as a particularly nice guy. What happened at the bar made that plain. Once he'd said what he had about Julie, Richard had looked at him as if already recognizing Mike's feelings for her, and his face clearly expressed what he thought about that: You lose, so stay away.
Not exactly the hallmark of a nice guy.
So why didn't Julie seem to see the side of Richard that he did? And why didn't Henry or Emma? Or was the whole thing just a figment of his imagination?
Mike ran through the scenario again. No, he finally decided, I didn't imagine it. I know what I saw. And I don't like him.
He leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath as he scanned the room. His eyes found Richard and Julie, and he watched them for a moment before he forced himself to turn away.
During the band's break, Julie and Richard had left the dance floor and found a smaller table on the far side of the bar, and Mike had been glancing their way ever since. He couldn't help it. Though he tried to pretend that he was still trying to figure Richard out, he knew his compulsion to watch had more in common with what people feel when they come across the scene of a grisly accident. Or even more accurately, he thought, watching them together was like watching a car plunging off a monstrous cliff, with a bird's-eye view through the windshield.
That's how it seemed, anyway. As the night wore on, he couldn't escape the conclusion that his chance with Julie was suddenly going the way of Atlantis. While Mike was sitting by himself, Julie and Richard were staring into each other's eyes with goofy grins on their faces. They were leaning in to whisper and laugh, obviously enjoying each other's company.
Disgusting.
At least the last time he'd looked, just a few seconds ago.
But what, he wondered, were they doing now?
Slowly, ever so subtly, Mike's eyes began to travel their way again. Julie was facing the other direction, so thankfully she wouldn't see him watching her. If she caught him staring, she might wave at him, or nod and smile, or worse, ignore him. The first two would make him feel like an idiot, the last one would break his heart.
As he turned, he saw Julie rummaging through her purse for something, her eyes focused in her lap.
Richard's eyes, though, locked on his in a cool, almost confident appraisal. Yes, Mike, I know you're staring.
Mike froze, a kid caught pulling a twenty from his mother's wallet.
He wanted to turn away but couldn't seem to summon the energy to move until he heard a voice behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Drew, the lead singer from the band, standing near the table.
"Hey, Mike," Drew said, "got a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something."
An hour later, with Cobra completely inebriated, Andrea headed to the bathroom. As she'd done since she'd first spotted Richard earlier, she scanned the room looking for him as she stood in line. He and Julie were walking off the dance floor. Richard leaned over to whisper something in her ear, then headed toward the men's room.
Knowing he'd pass right by her, Andrea quickly ran her hand through her hair and adjusted her skirt and halter. She stepped out of the line, heading him off.
"Hey, Richard," she said brightly, "how are you?"
"Fine, thanks," he said. Though it took a moment, she saw the recognition in his face. "Andrea, right?"
She smiled, thinking, I knew he'd remember. "I haven't seen you here before," she said.
"It's my first time here."
"Don't you think it's great?"
"Not really."
"Oh, well, neither do I, but there's not that many other places to go around here. Small-town life, you know?"
"I'm learning," he said.
"Friday nights are usually better, though."
"Oh?"
"Yeah. That's when I usually come. In fact, I'm almost always here then."
He paused, looking directly at her and holding her gaze, before finally nodding in Julie's direction.
"Listen-I'd love to stay and talk, but I really can't."
"Because you're with Julie?"
He shrugged. "She is my date."
"Yeah, I know," Andrea said.
"Well, listen-it was nice seeing you again," he said.
"Thanks. You too."
A moment later he pushed on the door, letting it close behind him. While Andrea was staring at the door, Cobra staggered up behind her, mumbling something crude about bodily functions.
As soon as he followed Richard through the door, she decided it was time to leave.
Seeing Cobra one more time, she thought, would ruin the feeling she'd had when her eyes met Richard's.
Just past midnight, with the world glowing silver, Julie stood with Richard on the porch. Frogs and crickets were singing, a light breeze was moving the leaves, and even Singer seemed to be more accepting of Richard. Though his face was poking through the curtains and he was eyeing them carefully, he hadn't made a sound.
"Thanks for tonight," she said.
"You're welcome. I had a wonderful time."
"Even at the Clipper?"
"As long as you had fun, then I'm glad we went."
"Not your kind of place, huh?"
He shrugged. "To be honest, I probably would have preferred something a bit more private. So you and I could be alone."
"We were alone."
"Not the whole time."
