Never Kiss A Stranger

I scrub a hand down my jaw. “So, we need to bump up marketing.”

“We have a very small budget.” Urban points to a figure on the piece of paper. “We need more organic traffic, and that’s why we’re failing.”

Organic traffic isn’t easy to come by, but I may have a few tricks up my sleeve.

The dinner comes to an end, and I shake my brother’s hand, leaving my father and Yasmin with no more than a simple ‘bye.’

As soon as I walk out of the high-priced golf club, my phone dings with an incoming text. It’s Henry, with a 911. He wants to meet at a bar across town.

Sounds important, so I hop in the rental and head off in that direction.

When I get there, Henry’s already three sheets to the wind. “Dude,” he slurs out. “I’m so glad you came.” He staggers my way, tossing his arm around me. “I’ve had the worst night.”

“Why don’t we sit you down.” I help Henry back to the bar and the stool he abandoned when he saw me come in. “Two coffees,” I say to the bartender. “And a Twist & Stout.”

The bartender smiles and turns away to collect my order. I focus my attention back on Henry. “Ok, tell me slowly what’s going on? Did something happen at work?”

Henry grabs his drink, which looks like something dark on the rocks, and I try to wrestle it away from him to no avail. Fucker swallows the whole thing. “No,” he shakes his head, “Kiki left me.”

My heart stops.

“She said it was over,” Henry says, looking at his empty glass. “Where’s my drink?”

At that very moment, the bartender arrives with both coffees and sets them down in front of us. “Drink this,” I tell Henry.

His face is priceless as he stares up at me, blinking like I’m speaking a foreign language. “You serious?”

“Yes, drink this and then you can have another drink.” My lie works because Henry takes a big gulp of the first coffee.

“Ow, that was hot.”

I push the coffee away. “Next time don’t try to chug the whole thing.” I grab my beer. “Now, explain to me what happened.”

“She left me. Said it was over.”

My heart stops again, and I really should have that checked out by a doctor. “Did she say why?” Is it bad I’m holding my breath with the mere hope she did it because she’s feeling the same crazy feelings I’ve been feeling the past few days? Yeah, it’s bad.

“Said she didn’t love me.”

Ouch. “Man, I’m sorry.”

“Two shots of whiskey,” I tell the bartender.

Henry smiles, his broad shoulders hunched over the bar. “Is one of those for me?”

I crack a small grin. “Drink your coffee and we’ll see.”

As soon as the whiskey arrives, I knock one back. It burns all the way down and feels so good. I want it to drown all the feelings I have for Kiki.

I take the other shot glass, holding it in the air. “To true love,” I say before slamming it back in the same fashion as the first one. I nod at Henry who stares at me like I just stole his favorite kitten. “I’m catching up,” I tell him.

He laughs, slapping me on the back. “Two more,” he says to the bartender. “Want to hear something crazy?”

“Lay it on me.”

Henry sips the coffee. “I wasn’t even that sad when she said it. It’s like part of me knew what she meant.”

“So, it’s a good thing then? Keeps you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

The bartender sets down two more whiskeys in front of us. Henry grabs one and downs it. “I’m still going to fight to get her back.”

“But, why? You don’t love her.” I down my third shot of whiskey for the night, utterly confused. Is he just drunk and not thinking clearly? He even said he felt the same as Kiki. So why fight?

“Let me explain something.” It’s like Henry’s sobered up completely as his eyes meet mine. “I’m about to be named a partner.” He holds his thumb and index finger millimeters apart. “I’m this close to getting everything I’ve ever wanted. And the firm favors partners who are settled.”

“Settled?”

He nods. “Yeah, as in married. If you can commit to a woman then, in their eyes, you must not be a major fuck up. And it also means someone can stand you long enough to be married to you, so you’re most likely a good guy.”

“That’s bullshit. They can’t force you to get married.” I hold up two fingers to the bartender, silently telling him we’ll have another round. Because I need it. Stat.

“Not forcing. Just heavily implying. The guy who’s up for the same partnership as me is about to have his second kid. And here I am, a complete fuck up.”

“You’re not a fuck up.” I brace my hand on his shoulder, giving a supportive squeeze. “You’ll find someone.”