Ask Me (Mess with Me 2)

“Of course.” My hand pulls a pen from my top pocket automatically. I wait, expecting her to produce a napkin or a notepad. I’ve signed everything from menus to receipts.

Then she pulls down her top, exposing her shoulder and the majority of her left breast. “You can make it out to Katy with a Y. I can’t wait to post this picture to Instagram.”

My hand moves as quickly as possible, scrawling my name right under her collarbone. When I’m done, Katy with a Y giggles again brushing her hand over my arm as she thanks me. She joins the other models, showing off my signature with a smirk.

Philippe raises a hand in a wave. “I’ve got this. Go do… what are you going to do?”

“Hell if I know. I just have to get out of here.”

As I’m leaving Jason Gautier, the company COO and one of my best friends, enters carrying a suit in a garment bag. “Wait, where are you going?”

“I’m leaving early.”

His eyes dart between me and Philippe. “Leaving early?”

Philippe looks amused. “Yes. He’s leaving early. Taking some time for fun. I’m sure you’re familiar with the concept.”

Jason blinks. “When has he ever left early? Where is he even going?”

“To get coffee,” I shout over my shoulder as I leave my brother and best friend arguing over my workaholic nature.

As I’m leaving, I hear his perplexed “But you hate American coffee!”

After wandering aimlessly for almost an hour, I had to admit that my attempt at relaxation was a failure. Disgusted with myself, I finally just hailed a cab and went back to my hotel.

Only to discover that my mother was waiting for me to escort her to a charity dinner I never agreed to attend.

I grimace, hoping that I didn’t offend anyone tonight. Considering my mood, I’m sure I was terrible company but I couldn’t disappoint my mother. Although she pretends that nothing bothers her, I know she hates attending social functions alone. It’s something she still isn’t quite used to, even though my father has been gone five years now.

Now that I’ve done my duty for the night and Mamma is settled, I find myself at a loss. As I ride the elevator back down to the lobby of her hotel, I ponder an entire night to do whatever I want. No thoughts of work and no one to answer to. The freedom is almost daunting.

The doorman tips his hat as I pass and I respond to a friendly hello from one of the valets outside. I give him my ticket so he can bring my car around and then my attention lands on the other. He’s a young man but old enough for what I need. Probably still in college considering that he doesn’t look as though he’s fully grown into his large hands and feet. His eyebrows lift as I walk closer.

“Good evening. I want to go out. On the town. To have fun.” I force myself to stop talking, embarrassed by my own rambling.

The young man takes it in stride. Especially when I slide over a few twenties. He pockets the money and then points down the block. “There’s a nightclub called Hysteria three streets over that’s pretty popular. It’s the place to be. Difficult to get into but worth it from what I hear.”

I shake my head, already sure another exclusive club filled with rich people trying to impress each other is not what I want.

“No clubs. I don’t want a popular place with a VIP lounge. I want to experience some real American fun. Something normal. Where would you go if you had the night off?”

He looks skeptical but nods his head in the other direction. “It’s not that close, it’s in Adams Morgan. A bar called Hammered. They have the best happy hour and every Friday it’s half-priced wings. All night.”

“Excellent. That’s where I’ll go.”

My enthusiasm seems to surprise him but he quickly recovers. “It’s a really fun place. They have pool and darts, too. But you can’t go like that.” He gestures to my suit. “It’s … not a dressy type of place.”

I clap him on the back. “Oh, don’t worry. I have just the thing to wear.”

It doesn’t take as long to put together the normal guy outfit this time. The white shirt is unsalvageable so I grab the next in the package, a plain, serviceable black. Despite the sad fabric, I can see a certain beauty to dressing this way. Without external adornment, the focus is completely on me. When I look in the mirror, it’s like seeing myself for the first time after a long illness or being in a trance.

Like running into an old friend unexpectedly after years apart.

When I get downstairs I bypass the valets and go to the first cab idling at the curb. I looked up the bar online so I’d have the address handy. After I tell him my destination, the cab driver doesn’t speak except to curse occasionally at other drivers. Which is fine by me. It gives me some time to gather my thoughts.

The bar is nestled between a barbecue eatery with a huge sign shaped like a pig and a music store. I pay the driver quickly and as soon as I exit the cab, I’m enveloped in a crowd of people walking along the sidewalk and chattering excitedly. Luckily they’re going the same way I wanted to go and when they stop, I see that we’re at Hammered.

I step into the slightly dim interior and take a moment to take it all in. There are several televisions hanging over the bar broadcasting a football game. I’ve never followed American football so I don’t know the teams but when everyone in the bar lets out a rousing cheer, I find myself caught up in the excitement as well. A place opens up at the bar and I take a stool at the end.