Four Good

5

Exploring caves

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t put extra care into my appearance before going to Rusty’s the next evening. I work a few waves into the ends of my hair, apply a thicker stroke of eyeliner than usual, and put on an extra coat of mascara, taking care to remove any clumps from my lashes.

I have a few options for work shirts, and I choose a white t-shirt with the bar’s logo centered large on the front. The shirt is cut for a woman and hugs my curves more than any of the others.

Excitement shimmering through me, I turn up the volume on my car’s speakers on the drive in. As an upbeat song changes to a more somber tune, I’m reminded that there’s a good chance the Hayes brothers may not even come into the bar again tonight.

Having too much class to pick up another woman right in front of me, they may have gone to a different bar and found someone else. Why wouldn’t they, really?

Maybe I’ll never see them again, but my reaction to them is probably a signal that I should pay more attention to the sexual side of myself. Maybe, as I approach forty, my hormones have shifted again and my libido is perking up. Everything about my body was definitely feeling perky when I was near the Hayes brothers yesterday.

“How are you doing today?” I ask Becca. She’s the server who usually opens with me. She’s cutting fruit for drink garnishes while I stock glasses.

“Fine. How are you?”

“Fine.” I’m actually flustered, and nearly dropped a martini glass a moment ago, but I’m trying to ignore my nerves. I’m really going to feel like an idiot if they don’t show up tonight.

“You had some fine-looking customers last night at the bar,” Becca says. “I was hoping those three guys would move to one of my tables.”

I consider pretending not to know who she’s talking about, but decide there’s no point playing dumb. “They were very good looking,” I agree.

“Looked like they were flirting with you.” Becca looks up, waiting for my reaction.

“They were,” I say, after a pause.

She resumes slicing lemons. “I’d have hit that, and hit it hard,” she says with a laugh. “Any one of them.”

Becca’s a good fifteen years younger than me. Is it strange that we’re lusting after the same men? “Hmmm,” is all I say, before I head to the other end of the bar, out of conversation range.

Our usual early customers come in, ordering their usual drinks, making their usual conversation. Apparently, not much of interest is going on around Four Points these days. I try to involve myself in the discussions happening at the counter, but I’m easily distracted, looking toward the door every time I see motion in that direction.

The first two hours of my shift drag, and by the time Tom arrives for work, I’m feeling deflated, even though it’s still earlier than when the Hayes brothers arrived the previous night. “I’m going to take a break. Are you good to cover?” I ask Tom after he gets settled in.

He responds with a single slow nod, and I return to the other side of the bar to retrieve my water bottle. As I’m turning to go to the break area, I hear my name spoken in a deep voice.

The Hayes brothers are approaching the bar.

The amount of pleasure that flows through me at the sight of them takes me by surprise, even though I’ve been waiting for them to arrive ever since I got here.

The grins I receive from them light me up from the inside.

All three men look freshly showered. Jonathan’s hair, which is combed back, still looks slightly damp. It’s exciting to see them, but I also feel a sense of familiarity about them, which is comforting.

“Christine, how are you tonight?” Corbin asks as he slides onto a stool.

“Hi! I was actually about to go on break. Would you want to …” My newly inspired imagination finishes the incomplete sentence in my head. Wrap your arms around me? Kiss me? Throw me up against the wall and fuck me?

“Want to join us at a table?” Brendan asks.

“Sure.”

I come around the counter and follow them to a table in the corner. It’s Sunday, and the bar’s not nearly as crowded as the night before.

“Oh, did you want something to drink?” I ask, the thought occurring to me just as Brendan holds out a chair for me.

“No rush,” Corbin says. “Have a seat.”