Grumpy Best Friend

“Sorry, lady,” the buzz-headed guy said. “We’re celebrating, is all. Rick here got a big promotion at work. Gonna be a head analyst. Gonna make a lot of fucking money, right, Rick?”

“Right,” Rick said, who looked like a pale baseball bat with a mouth and nose.

“I don’t care if he’s the president of Zimbabwe,” Bookclub said. “Please tone it down. You’ve been so rude all evening.”

“Whatever,” Buzzed said. “Keep it in your pants, you old bitch.” He grinned at his friends, who had the good sense to seem mortified.

Bookclub’s face got even redder, and she stepped forward, arm cocked back. Buzzed didn’t see it coming. Bookclub brought her paperback down on his head hard, thwacking him over the skull with a loud, resounding thud. He pulled away with a yelp, and his friends instantly began to laugh loudly. The bartender looked amazed, and the whole restaurant stared in pure shock.

Buzzed did not react well. He stood, and Bookclub backed off, her eyes wide and frightened, likely shocked that she’d actually hit him. “You fucking bitch,” he said.

I’d seen enough. Buzzed had that empty look to his face, the sort of expression asshole guys got when they were sufficiently drunk to do something very, very bad. He advanced on her, and she backed up against the table, almost trembling with fear.

“Hey, leave her alone,” the bartender said, but he was too slow.

I reached Buzzed just as his fist cocked back. I didn’t know if he planned on punching the old woman or what he was thinking, but spittle flew from his lips as he called her a bitch again. I caught his arm just as he threw it forward, and wrenched him backward, knocking him off balance. He staggered and ran into the bar.

“You’ve had enough,” I said as he stared up at me, mouth hanging open.

“What the fuck?” he said. “Fuck off, man.”

The bartender joined me then, and another man in a black jacket appeared. The two of them grabbed Buzzed and hauled him to his feet, and though he struggled, the guy was clearly too drunk to do much damage.

I checked on Bookclub before returning to my seat. “Thank you,” she said, blinking rapidly as he friends tried to comfort her. “I think he planned on hitting me.”

I sat down and threw back the rest of my whiskey. The murmur of conversation began to resume, and Bookclub rejoined her group, looking very shaken. I felt bad for her, and hated that dumb drunk asshole for scaring her like that. His friends paid their bill and left as fast as they could, looking embarrassed as hell. I hoped Rick had the good sense not to be friends with Buzzed anymore after this.

“Holy shit,” Jude said, gaping at me like I’d just won the lottery and did a backflip off a waterfall.

I frowned at her. “What?”

“You saved that lady,” she said, leaning forward. “That guy—he was going to hit her.”

“Maybe,” I said. “I mean, I just got to him first.”

“You’re unreal,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief, and I chose to take that as a compliment.

The rest of dinner went well. Our drinks were comped by the manager, which was nice, and Bookclub thanked me on her way out, and went so far as to give me her email address—if I wanted to meet her niece, who was very pretty, and very single. I thanked her, and promptly purged the thought from my mind.

We finished the meal, paid the bill, and stepped out into the comfortable summer evening air. The streets were crowded, and Jude walked close to me as we headed back to my car. We didn’t talk, and I wished I could get inside her head. Maybe I shouldn’t have gotten involved with that drunk asshole, and pushing him into the bar might’ve been too much—but then again, I couldn’t sit there and let him actually hit a woman, even if she had instigated it. The whole thing was a mess, and I hated dumb drunk egotistical fuckwads, especially when they let their shit ruin everything around them.

“Maybe it’s the adrenaline speaking,” Jude said, looking up at me, “but maybe we can make this work.”

I smirked a little and moved closer to her as we squeezed past a group of young men and women laughing loudly with each other. “Yeah? Is it because you find me very attractive and masculine now that I saved a damsel in distress?”

Jude made a face. “She wasn’t exactly a damsel. I don’t know any damsels that beat guys with books.”

I laughed and nudged against her. “That’s fair.”

“I’m just saying, I have a lot of resentment toward you for what happened back then, but we’ve both changed, right?” She looked up at me, her eyes looking for something. “Maybe I can give you the benefit of the doubt.”