“What’s a pretty girl like you doing alone in a bar like this?” he said, before chuckling to himself.
“Um, watching the Celtics kick the crap out of the Pistons,” I said in a flat tone that couldn’t be mistaken for anything but utter annoyance at the interruption.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, ignoring the frosty chill radiating off of me.
“No thanks; I’m good,” I said, shifting my attention back to the screen but keeping him in my peripheral view.
“So, you from around here?” he continued.
“Look, I know you’re just a guy in a bar trying to make a connection with someone,” I said, turning to look at him. “But I’m not that someone. I’m here to watch the game, and I really don’t feel like being social. Not with you or anyone else, so I’m going to recommend that you pack up what you’re selling and move it a little further down the bar.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, no need to get hostile, babe,” he said, throwing his hands up in surrender.
“I’m not hostile; I’m just trying to watch the game!” I
repeated, as I turned and looked up at the screen. “And you’re making me miss all the scoring! Now move on, buddy!”
He picked up his drink, and as he moved several seats down the bar, I heard him repeating his opening line to a pretty brunette sitting alone nursing a drink. I muttered good riddance and then quickly felt my spirits lift as I watched Thomas sink a three-pointer from the side and take the Celtics lead into the double digits.
“Hell yeah!” I shouted, as I pounded the bar.
“Man, you turned that guy down cold,” KO grinned, as she nodded at the guy several seats down now intensely involved in a conversation with the brunette.
“Didn’t seem to stop him from moving on,” I shrugged.
“Girl, you’re a piece of work,” KO said, pouring me another beer and sliding it across the polished wood surface.
I watched the Celtics cream the Pistons in peace as I drank a couple more beers, and by the time the game was over, I was in good spirits. KO and I talked for a bit as the late night patrons began to filter in, and as business picked up, I waved goodbye and headed home for the night wondering what Blake Gaston was doing.
Chapter Eleven
Blake
I pulled up to the station on Christmas Eve and saw that Chief had gone all out on the annual cookout we threw for members of the community. The lawn in front of the fire station was covered in lights, and off to one side was an enormous blow-up Santa blaring Christmas carols from the bag next to his feet. I laughed as I grabbed my bag out of the truck and walked up the drive.
Inside the station, Tony was in a foul mood as he slammed cases of soda and bottled water onto a dolly. I went back to the locker room and stored my stuff before I returned to the kitchen to help.
“What’s up, man?” I asked, as I took a couple of cases of soda from him and set them on the dolly.
“She’s driving me crazy, B!” Tony shouted, as he hauled three cases of water out of the storage closet and dropped them on top of the soda. “She’s got me doing things that aren’t my job!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” I said, as I swung the dolly around and pushed it toward the back door of the garage.
“She’s supposed to do the inside stuff, and I’m supposed to do the outside stuff!” he protested. “She’s got me wrapping presents! You know I have no idea how to do that shit!”
“You know, you’re kind of a dick, Tony,” I laughed, as we began pulling the plastic off the water and tossing it into the large tubs we’d set up near the grills. “Wrapping packages isn’t a gendered thing, my friend.”
“But I shovel the walk and hang the lights!” he protested more loudly. “I’m supposed to be exempt from that girly shit!”
“Oh, Tony, you have my sympathies, man, but you’d be wise to get with the program,” I laughed. “This is, after all, the 21st century. Besides, who are the packages for?”
“My parents,” he said.
“Jesus Christ, man,” I said, shaking my head. “You are so lucky your wife doesn’t kill you in your sleep!”
“Hey, guys, who's killing who?” Cal asked, as he joined the conversation. Tony stared at him without saying a word as I ducked behind the cart and grabbed a couple boxes of soda and began putting them in a second tub. Cal tried again, “Seriously, what’s going on?”
“Why don’t you go grab the rest of the drinks, rookie?” Tony asked, without looking at him. Cal sighed and then slunk away as Chief and two of the guys lit up the grills and signaled the start of the party.