Perfect Monster (The Oligarchs)

“I bartend at night.”

“You’re not helping yourself here.”

“Whatever, I don’t know how you managed this turn this around on me.” He put her hands on my shoulders and stared into my eyes. “Tug that shirt down. Show off the girls.”

“You’re gross. And no.”

“So disappointing. The world’s missing out, you know. It’s like keeping the Sistine Chapel locked up behind a Hanes oversized t-shirt.”

“The world will survive.”

I bumped her with my hip and she laughed. I stretched my fingers, logged into the computer, and moved to the end of the bar to serve my first customer of the night.

I fell into the flow of things, cleaning glasses, making small talk, pouring drinks. I laughed at bad jokes and bantered with Winter. It was a pretty normal shift, all things considered.

I didn’t even notice the creepy guy until about an hour into my shift.

At first, he was nothing special. Dark hair, black polo shirt, black jeans. He had a nice face, if a little skinny, and smiled a while lot even though he was alone. The Shiny Lobster wasn’t the sort of place people went to drink by themselves but I was too busy to judge him, and besides, I’d done plenty of stupid and weird things in the name of getting out of the house for a few hours.

But as the night progressed, I caught him watching me.

I thought I was crazy at first. It was little things, like I’d turn in his direction and he’d be staring at me. I’d look away, and when I looked back, he’d be looking at his phone like nothing happened. That happened a few times, and by the fourth I found myself drifting over toward Winter.

“Did you notice the guy sitting at the end of the bar over there?”

She glanced over my shoulder. “The cute one with the dark eyes? He’s not too bad. You thinking about asking him out?”

“He keeps staring at me.”

“Even better. Fluff up the girls and go see what he wants. Actually, I’ll tell you what he wants. He’d like you spread—“

“Okay, no thanks, definitely don’t need the details.”

Winter rolled her eyes. “Don’t be gross. I was just going to say, he wants to spread eagle on his bedroom floor riding his—“

“You’re a monster,” I said, walking away before she could go into very explicit details, which she was prone to doing.

But she followed and wouldn’t let it drop. “Okay, okay, I’ll drop with the sex talk, but seriously Cass. When was the last time you got laid? Or even did some cute hand stuff?”

“I didn’t realize hand stuff is cute. Not exactly what I’d call it.”

“Oh, right, you’re still in sixth grade.”

“Gross, Winter. Sixth graders are like twelve.”

She frowned and started counting quietly to herself. “Whoops, okay, let’s say eighth grade.”

“What the hell were you doing in middle school?”

“Hand stuff. Why were you doing?”

“I don’t know, wholesome things. I was in the band.”

“Of course you were.”

“I’m not asking him out, okay? I’m not looking for that.”

She put a hand on my arm and gave me that gentle knowing smile she always gave when she wanted to explain to me the birds and the bees. I was typed to dump a beer over her head, although she might actually like that, I was never sure with her.

“You can’t lock yourself up inside that apartment forever you know. I get you’ve gone through some stuff, and I haven’t asked what because I love you and respect your privacy, but you’ve got to come out sometime.”

I wasn’t expecting that. A lecture on the proper hand job wrist technique maybe, or pointers for how to get off when a guy goes down on you, sure, definitely within her wheelhouse, but that was actually sort of sweet.

“I’m trying,” I said softly. “I promise.”

“Yeah, I know you are.” She turned away and went to serve a customer, leaving me over near the bottles.

I glanced down at the creepy guy. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. He was a little good looking at least—nice jaw, decent teeth, arms were in good shape. And he was staring at me again, and not looking away. I could walk over there and say hello, make some small talk, maybe we’d have some things in common, maybe we’d even go out to dinner and hit it off and end up dating, and I could have sex for the first time in years, and maybe it’d be good, and maybe we’d get married, and—

I took a deep breath and looked away.

None of that was going to happen to me. I couldn’t even get in a car without freaking out. My issues ran deep, way deeper than was normal, and no amount of cute guys were going to solve any of them.

Though Winter would definitely disagree with me there.

The night continued. I poured drinks, smiled at bad jokes, laughed where appropriate, and collected my tips—which were admittedly fewer than Winter’s but at least I had my dignity though boy would it be nice to have some cash too—and the whole time that guy stayed where he was, watching and smiling and waiting.