Twist (Dive Bar 2)

"Joe..."

A glass of ice water was thrust in front of me.

"Thanks," I mumbled to the waitress.

"Jess, we'll take it all to go," ordered the man before turning back to me. "I better stick with you."

Oh, hell no.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, because you're being very kind. But one polite attempt at breakfast isn't about to undo months of betrayal. Anyway, I don't think I could relax with you watching me in a small hotel room, friend or not." I blew my nose and thought deep thoughts. Or as deep a thought as my muddled, hurting head would allow. "Some cold and flu drugs and I'll be fine. I'll just sleep it off. By tomorrow it'll probably be gone."

"I'll take you back to the hotel, then I'll go get whatever you want from the pharmacy," he said, as if the decision had been made. "I won't be hovering over you, promise."

I winced. "Joe..."

"Alex, you're sick."

"Really? I hadn't noticed. Thanks so much for pointing that out."

"And in a bad mood. But fair enough, you've got reason to be." He placed his warm hand atop mine, gently stroking with the side of his thumb. Trying to lull me into submission or something. I didn't have the energy to care.

"I pulled some crap with you that was wrong," he said. "But right now, you look terrible. You should be in bed. Why don't you crash and allow me to go get whatever you need from the drugstore then drop it back at the hotel? I can leave it at the front desk. You won't even have to see me."

"That's a really kind offer, but--"

"But nothing," he said. "C'mon, I'm here. I want to help. Give me a chance to show you I'm not a total asshole."

His offer did sound good. Extremely good. I didn't even care that he'd dissed my mood and said I looked like crap. The word bed floated before me like a beautiful, impossible dream.

"You've got time?" I sniffed. "You don't have to be at work or something?"

"No." He shook his head. "It's all good. And later if you decide you need anything else or want to go to the doctor I can organize that, no problem. You could just text me or something."

Heavy sigh. "Are you sure?"

His beard framed a confident smile. "I'm sure."

Even heavier sigh. "Okay."

"Good."

"I'm only staying for one more night, though," I clarified.

"Okay."

I managed a feeble smile.

Maybe he wasn't such a bad guy, despite all the lying. It didn't matter. I'd given this thing between us a chance and it had blown up in my face. Whatever kind of man Joe Collins might be, tomorrow I was going home where all was safe and sound. Home where I belonged.

CHAPTER FOUR

Message received five months ago:

Hi Alex,

Thanks for your reply and sorry about the silence. My trip to Seattle's off for now, but it'd be great to keep in touch. How's your graphic design business doing? I see you're interested in renovation. Been doing some work stripping parts of the restaurant back to original fittings and raw brick lately while also trying to maintain some of the original 70's/80's fixtures. Not much else happening right now. Seen any good bands lately? Live music scene here dies off in winter but the summer's really active. My best to your squirrel friend Marty. I'd add some joke about keeping nuts warm, but it'd probably just make things awkward. We don't know each other nearly well enough for that.;)

Eric

Message sent:

Shit. I probably shouldn't have added that nuts bit. Hope I haven't offended you.

Eric

Message sent:

Hahaha. No worries, Eric. I'm not that delicate a petal. Would love to keep in touch. Your renovation project sounds awesome, can you shoot me some photos when you get a chance? How old is the building you're working on? Business has been crazy busy which is great. Lots of branding for new businesses mostly, business cards etc. No plans to head out but I just downloaded the Soviet X-Ray Record Club's latest. Enjoying that. I'll be sure to pass on your regards to Marty and his nuts next time I see him.

Alex

Someone had called Thor.

It was the only explanation my befuddled mind could come up with for the almighty pounding upon my door. Thor and his mighty hammer. Goddamn god of thunder. I'd been fast asleep, completely unconscious.

I struggled to sit up. And I do mean struggled.

Upon returning to the hotel, Joe had pretty much taken over. My booties and coat were removed from my body and I was put to bed. The man took my tucking-in seriously. He'd fixed the top sheet and blanket across me so tightly, I almost needed the Jaws of Life to escape. Almost.

"Coming," I attempted to bellow when the hammering continued. What came out, however, was more of a wheeze, as if I'd been involved in an amateur sword swallowing contest. My throat was annihilated and my head didn't feel much better. Oddly enough, the room was dark. Completely dark. No sunlight snuck around the curtain edges or anything. Only the dim line of light from the hallway showed beneath the door.

"Hey," I rasped upon opening it.

Sure enough, there stood Thor aka blond Bigfoot aka my supposed friend Joe. He did not look happy. "Fuck's sake, Alex. You had me worried sick."

"What? Why?" I headed back over to the bed, sitting on the end of the mattress. Oh, beloved bed. All I wanted to do was crawl back in and do some more sleeping. For forever would work.

He closed the door and flicked on the light, making me wince. One bulging pharmacy bag and one neat brown paper bag hung from his right hand. "I called the front desk six times to check and see if you'd picked up the stuff from the pharmacy. They hadn't heard a word from you."

"Huh. I must have slept all day."

"And half the night," he said, frowning heavily. "It's nine P.M. I was supposed to work until twelve, but I needed to come check on you. I've been standing out there banging on the door for ages. I was just about to get security to open it for me so I could make sure you weren't dead."

"Not dead." I feebly waved a hand his way. "Yet."

"You're still too pale. If anything you seem worse." Hands on hips, the man scowled down at me. This morning's hoodie had been replaced by a nicely fitted blue thermal. A smooth mover or not, Joe had a drool-worthy physique. Big black boots covered his feet, and he wore black jeans. He looked a little dangerous, dressed all dark and acting so moody. Even if it was just my lazy white blood cells he was mad at.

"Sorry you had to leave work," I said. "But I really am okay."

Without comment, he placed the palm of his hand against my fevered brow.

"I actually feel a little better," I lied.

"Yeah? Because you look like shit."

"Don't you flirt with me." I coughed

out a laugh. "I'm not your type, remember?"

The brown paper bag, he sat on a little table against the wall. But the pharmacy bag he upended onto the bed beside me. Cold and flu tablets, aspirin, Theraflu, Advil, Kleenex, throat lozenges, cough syrup, and more. Much, much more.

"Wow," I said. "That's a lot of stuff."

"Wanted to make sure you had everything you might need."

"But I only gave you twenty dollars."

"Don't worry about it," he said.

It didn't exactly sit well with me, owing him. Maybe I'd try and slip another twenty into his coat or something. I picked up a slim purple tube. "Huckleberry lip balm?"

A shrug. He passed me a bottle of water out of the mini-bar. Then tore into the box of cold and flu tablets, popping two out of the packaging into my waiting hand.

"Thanks."

Next, he started fussing with the contents of the brown paper bag. First he removed the lid from a large take-out cup, then added one of those disposable plastic spoons.

"Nell made you chicken noodle soup," he said, handing the cup and spoon over. "Careful, it's hot. Well, I hope it still is. There's also some cookies in the bag."

"I wish my nose was working. I bet it smells great." Steam rose from the soup, warming my face. I blew on the liquid and took a small sip. Immediately my throat felt a bit better. Such was the almighty power of comfort food. "This is so nice of her. She's the chef in your bar, right?"

He flinched. "Ah, no. I mean it's not my bar. Eric owns a share of the bar along with her and Lydia. They all run different sections. I just work for them."

"Right. Sorry, I forgot to forget what I thought I knew about you."

Insert uncomfortable silence here.

The man got busy moving all of the pharmacy goods onto the table. I watched, sipping and stirring my soup. Eventually, he ran out of things to do and we were back to facing each other, a veritable life full of lies between us.

No, that was wrong. Nothing lay between us now. All of my romantic misconceptions were gone. Whatever I'd imagined could develop between me and "Eric" had died a sad and sorry death last night. In front of all of his friends, even. Little wonder Nell was making me soup. I must have looked like such a fool.

"You want me to run you a hot bath or something?" he asked.

"No. Thanks. I'm good."

Once he'd gone I'd summon up some strength to do it for myself. A nice quick hot bath. Emphasis on quick. Baths and I had a bad history. Long story.