Wherever the Dandelion Falls (5 page)

I picked it up and started counting.

One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred. Four hundred. Five hundred.

Five hundred dollars.

Holy shit.

Saturdays were always crazy, and being down a bartender meant Dave and I were busting our asses trying to take orders and keep track of tabs. At two thirty in the morning I locked the front door, grateful once again that city laws prohibited alcohol sales after two a.m. I turned back to the bar to finish wiping it down so I could go home.

"You good, Montgomery?" Dave asked, hastily untying his bar apron and stashing it under the bar .

I shook myself out of my tiredness. I had forgotten Dave wanted to leave early. We had been so overwhelmed, I hadn't offered to let him leave as early as I'd planned to.

"Yeah," I said. "Go have fun with your new man."

"I owe you one," he said, taking his coat from under the bar. "I've got your back next time you want out early."

I gave him a tired smile and waved as he went out the back door.

I sighed, looking around. It wasn't much work, but I was tired.

I was just about to head for the tables in the corner when a furious rapping came from the door behind me.

"We're
closed
!" I called out, not bothering to mask how annoyed I was.

A muffled voice spoke from behind the door, and a few more knocks rang through the bar that now reverberated quiet in the absence of the music and drunken laugher.

I opened the door just enough to say, "We're closed," and was pleasantly surprised to see the girl with long black hair from earlier that night.

"I'm so sorry," the girl said. "I just came to see if my friend left her purse here."

I opened the door wide enough for the girl to enter before locking it again behind her, trying not to get too flustered that I was alone with such a beautiful girl.

She gave me an apologetic grimace. "I'm sorry. It'll just be tricky for Claire to stumble home tomorrow without her keys or wallet."

"Of course," I said. "What does it look like?"

"It's green with a black leather strap."

I walked behind the bar to the area we usually kept lost and found items in. Seeing the purse the girl had described, I placed it on the counter.

"This it?"

She gave me a grateful, relieved smile. "Looks like it."

I gave her a polite smile as I reached for the broom. "Glad you found it."

Faye checked the contents of the purse and then pulled out her phone, checking it as she leaned forward onto the damp bar. She made no motion to leave. Instead she watched as I made a few strokes on the floor with the broom before saying, "I'm Faye, by the way."

I looked up. "Riley.”

"Pleasure to meet you," Faye said. "Do you have to close up alone?"

"Not usually, but Dave had a hot date so I let him cut out early."

Faye nodded and still made no motion to leave, leaning over the bar to watch me. When I looked up with a curious smile, she looked embarrassed. I figured she must have a reason for stalling.

"Having fun babysitting your drunk friends?" I asked.

Faye rolled her eyes. "Claire found the karaoke bar around the corner and I'm too sober to sit through that shit."

I gave her a sympathetic chuckle. "Don't tell my boss, but you're welcome to hang out here for a minute while I close up. I know better than anyone how annoying drunk people can be."

"She's not horrible all the time. But..." Faye lowered her voice. "A few of us have bets on how long this one's going to last."

I smirked. "What's wrong with the guy?"

Faye tilted her head, trying to figure out exactly what she didn't like about her friend's fiancé. "I don't trust guys who are that muscly, you know? Usually they're hiding something."

I giggled."You mean like most of our customers here?"

Faye rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Some people are into that."

"If he feels the need to compensate for something by overdeveloping his chest, I guess no one can stop him. If only I could stop him from marrying Claire," she grumbled.

I stopped sweeping and studied her. She seemed oddly protective of her friend. "Do you have a thing for her?" I asked, daring to test the waters of her sexuality.

Faye looked offended. "Ew, no," she hissed. "She's not my type."

The quiet bar was tense for a moment and I wished that she would tell me what her type was and if I had imagined her sweeping glance earlier. Was
I
her type?

Faye's phone buzzed. "Sweet," she said, looking down at it. "They took a cab back to the hotel when they couldn't find me, so I'm off duty. And thank
god
."

"Congrats," I smiled. "Can I offer you a drink?"

I knew I wasn't supposed to, but Dave was gone and my boss wouldn't know.

Faye brightened. "Got any scotch?"

"Coming right up."

I pulled out a clean glass, wiped it down, and turned to the shelf behind me. "This didn't happen, by the way.” I looked over my shoulder and winked at Faye.

"What didn't happen?" Faye said with a coy smile.

"I was wondering the same thing," I volleyed back.

"I can't even remember where I am."

I stopped, eyes going wide in mock alarm. "It's not
absinthe
, Faye."

Faye laughed as she leaned over the bar. "Are you having one too?"

I realized that it didn't make sense for me to offer Faye a drink if I wasn't partaking myself. I pulled out a second glass and poured us each a generous drink.

I looked up mid-pour and it dawned on me that Faye was flirting with me. My stomach flipped in excitement. It had been a while since a girl had flirted with me, and I hadn't had sex with a girl since college.

I didn't know if Faye was flirting on purpose. Lots of girls flirt without meaning to. I didn't want to misread Faye's cues.

Faye picked up her drink, resting the rim of the glass against her lip for a minute as she looked at me. It was a sultry look that made my cheeks warm. I didn't think I could be as sexy in return, so I just gave an embarrassed smile and looked down into the contents of my drink before taking a big sip.

A much bigger sip than I intended.

It was burning.

I was suddenly coughing and sputtering. My whole chest was on fire, creeping up my throat into my mouth and face. Now I was hacking and Faye was leaning towards me in concern, asking if I was okay.

I was mortified. Bartenders are supposed to be able to handle our liquor, and here I was, coughing like a sixteen-year-old drinking cheap vodka out of a water bottle under the bleachers. Faye put her hand on my bicep in concern.

Definitely flirting.

Having recovered from my coughing fit and the embarrassment that ensued, I drank the rest of my scotch slowly as we made small talk about the bars in the neighborhood, good restaurants in the city, and other local treasures.

There was a lull in the conversation as I finished my drink. I was enjoying myself and found that my previous fatigue was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you driving tonight?" I asked, glancing between Faye and her empty glass. I wanted to refill it and keep our conversation going, but not if she had to get behind the wheel.

"No, I live just a little ways away," Faye said with a flirtatious smile. "I don't have to drive."

I grinned back and patted the bar. "Can I offer you another drink?"

Faye quirked her eyebrow. She knew the game we were playing now. "Sure."

She watched as I took two clean glasses and poured them each a generous drink. I capped the bottle, spinning the cap, and lifted my glass.

"Cheers," I said with a brief lift of my eyebrows.

Faye looked me square in the eye with a wicked smile as we clinked our glasses.

An hour later, Faye was loose and her eyes were dark and she blinked slowly. Her mouth spread unevenly when she smiled, and there was a strand of hair that was out of place in her previously impeccable hairdo. She laughed too loud at things that weren't funny, and when she spoke, her words were loud.

She was, in a word, drunk.

I wasn't much soberer as I struggled with the lock on the exterior of the bar, trying to make sure it was closed as we exited. Faye was spinning on the sidewalk, her little black purse and Claire's big green purse swinging around her knees.

"Which way are you?" Faye asked, laughing at nothing in particular.

"This way," I gestured with my chin, sticking my keys in my pocket and bracing my shoulders against the 3:30am chill.

"Oh good, me too!" Faye babbled.

I walked quickly, trying not to grin like an idiot. We were both drunk, and yet we were still the playing as though we weren't thinking about asking each other back to our houses.

I decided to take the plunge and offer Faye another drink at my house. Justine was in Santa Cruz with her boyfriend for the weekend, so we would have the place to ourselves.

“Hey, want to-"

"Come to my place," Faye blurted in the middle of my sentence. "Come... have another drink with me."

"Yeah?" I breathed.

She looked at me with a wicked, lopsided smile. “Yeah.”

A few hours into my morning at Turner Institute, I was standing by the copier waiting for the collator when I got a text from Faye. I couldn't believe I'd accidentally agreed to go out with a woman, but I figured it would be rude to back out now. I was looking at my phone when Dr. Turner walked in. He always walked with his head up high, nose in the air like he owned the place. He looked directly at me, like he actually saw me. My stomach flipped and I flushed.

"I didn't realize the copier was being used." He looked annoyed.

"I'm almost done. I'll make your copies for you if you like," I offered. I wanted him to see how helpful I can be.

Dr. Turner stepped close to me and handed me the paper. I smelled his aftershave and Old Spice. It was such a sexy, masculine smell, woody and rich and clean.

"Fifty copies, double-sided," he said, waiting for me to take the paper.

I took it and relished the moment that piece of paper connected us. "Sure."

"Thanks, doll.”

As he turned to go, he patted my ass twice with a gentle hand. It happened so quickly, I didn't realize he'd actually touched me until he was gone.

I was buzzing. Maybe he was actually seeing behind the lab coat and the twist I had to keep my hair in. I started thinking about all the neuroreceptors that were going crazy in my brain, absorbing the chemicals that were released as a result of human touch.

I remember being mesmerized by the CAT scans of brains at rest when they sat in the MRI untouched, versus when someone held their hand. I felt the area Dr. Turner had touched freeze and tingle, excited like I felt the first time my high school boyfriend kissed me.

Over the next few days, I let my doubts about meeting up with Faye eat away at me. Justine seemed to route all conversations back to my upcoming date, even when I managed to forget about it for a few minutes.

On the day of the date, I woke up too early. It was Saturday, my day to sleep in, but I jolted awake only half an hour after my workweek alarm would have gone off. I ended up just laying there for an hour, feeling my stomach twist and flip with anxiety. Why had I agreed to go on this stupid date?