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The Fly by Night was hopping early.
Jake Bergman, whose family owned Bergman Hardware, and I had been friends since grade school. We lived in separate loft apartments above his store, so technically he was my landlord too. A lot of evenings, after I got home from work, we’d hang out on the back landing, drink a beer or two, and shoot the shit. Tonight, though, I’d taken the dinner shift off, and we were getting our social on in honor of his fortieth birthday.
We’d come to the Fly for dinner, in part because the pork tenderloin sandwiches were big and filling and damn good and in part because Jake had it in his mind his birthday present to himself should be getting laid. I wasn’t sure about his odds for the latter, but they were sure as hell better at the Fly than on our back landing.
The food had been cleared an hour ago, but we were still at our table, in no hurry to go anywhere. This was a bar first and foremost that served salty food to keep its customers in drinks, the kind of place that wasn’t concerned about table turnover. Our buddy Dylan Copeland had joined us a few minutes ago after getting off work.
The Fly had two sections—tables and the main bar in the front half and pool tables and dartboards in the back. Our table was in the middle of the two. We could see the whole place from here, and half the town had stopped by so far to say hello and wish Jake happy birthday.
Jake didn’t need the birthday excuse to get extra attention from women. He’d always been a girl magnet, even in the sixth grade. He, Dylan, and I had played various sports and never had trouble getting dates, but it was tough when you lived in a small town and had known everyone for roughly four decades.
As a trio of ladies a few years younger than we were walked away from us toward the pool tables, Isabel Ballantine, our server, delivered us another round. Jake continued to scan the place, still determined not to end the night alone. I’d never really started searching, and Dylan was seeing someone from the city, so he wasn’t interested.
“It’s a long shot, dude,” Dylan said to Jake. “You’re an old man.”
“Then so are you,” Jake shot back good-naturedly.
“But I’m not the one searching.”
“Why aren’t you with your better half tonight anyway? She get a better offer?” Jake teased.
“Apparently she did.” Dylan laughed. “Front-row seats at a Luke Coombs show.”
“Total upgrade,” Jake said.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you,” I said to Jake. “Forty years old. It’s not like it used to be. You could be the father of half the girls in here.”
“Shut the fuck up, man. You’re supposed to help me celebrate, not be a grumpy-ass downer.” Jake was grinning as he shook his head.
“I was born a grumpy-ass downer,” I said.
The main door had been busy all night and had ceased to grab my attention after the first thirty minutes or so. There wasn’t anyone I was looking for in particular—or so I thought. I happened to glance that way as a strawberry-blonde came in. Magnolia James, I realized, but then I recognized the brunette behind her, and my awareness snapped right to Ava and stuck.
She looked hesitant, scanning the place as they came inside. She brushed her hair behind one ear, which had always been a nervous habit. There were enough people standing in the way that I couldn’t see her as well as I wanted, but I kept my eyes trained on her. Couldn’t seem to look away.
Finally, she and Magnolia came closer and I could see her fully. Neither one of them spotted us, so I could check her out at my leisure, and I took my sweet time looking her up and down. Her hair was down tonight, a little tousled. She wore a black tank and a plain denim skirt that stopped at the tops of her thighs. The urge to run my fingers up under her hemline to feel her heated silky skin hit hard out of nowhere, and I clenched my fist under the table.
Magnolia led her past us, toward the back half of the bar. I didn’t know Magnolia well, so there was no reason to expect her to stop and talk, and Ava still didn’t see me as she walked by.
“Interesting,” Jake said, and I realized he was watching me.
I scowled. “What’s interesting?”
“The way you zeroed in on your ex the second she walked in the door and didn’t take your eyes off her.”
“Maybe I was watching Magnolia James,” I flipped back, knowing full well he wouldn’t buy that. Magnolia had a rep as a spoiled rich girl, so much so that I was fully aware of it even though she was several years younger, close to Holden’s age. She was good-looking, but her reputation generally kept guys at bay, although apparently she’d been engaged and recently dumped the dude after some drama. I didn’t pretend to keep up.
“I call bullshit,” Dylan said, also eying me. “You seeing Ava again?”
“If I was, would I have let her walk by?”
“Never know. You’re not the smoothest guy.”
“I’m as smooth as I need to be. This one’s the one having trouble getting a girl.” I pointed to Jake.
“I’m not having trouble getting a girl,” he said, as if that was the dumbest thing he’d ever heard. “I’m having a hard time finding one worth getting.”
“Maybe try the grocery store,” Dylan said. “Older demographic there.”
