I Just Want You(9)

I take a seat at the far end of the table, Maggie grabbing the one beside me. The others file in and we get ourselves sorted while we wait for Barry. As soon as drinks are delivered, he comes strolling in with what looks like most of the team. The place erupts in cheers as we all celebrate a win for the home team.

"Hey hey," Barry says when he reaches our table. He takes a seat between Maggie and me at the head of the table. "Where's Zane? Did he not stay?"

I turn to scan the room. I thought for sure he was with us. The table jerks, causing me to look back at Barry. Zane's standing behind Barry with his arm around his neck, rubbing the top of his head.

"I thought we stopped giving noogies in grade school." Maggie laughs.

"You're next, cuz." Zane winks at her. 

Maggie holds up her hands in surrender. "Don't even think about it, Zane."

He laughs, releasing his hold on Barry and taking the only remaining seat next to Maggie.

"Good game," I say to Barry.

"Thanks, Berklee. The guys played hard."

That starts the conversation, everyone reminiscing about the game. A few of the players stop by the table to give Barry a fist bump, and he's all smiles. Once the waitress takes our order, the parents are already on to their own conversations, so Barry changes ours.

"So, what's up, man?" he asks Zane. "Feels like forever since I've seen you."

"Don't I know it. Was working construction for a while. You know how it is: long days when you can get them in, trying to beat the weather. I actually just quit though," he says, taking a drink of his beer.

"New job?" Maggie asks.

"Yeah, you remember me talking about my friend Crew?" Barry smirks and Zane laughs. "Well, he came into some inheritance about a year ago. He's been working on getting his own club up and running, and he brought me on to help get staff hired. I'll be the head of security."

"That seems like a big change for you," Maggie says.

"Yeah, but a good one. I have no doubt that Crew will make this place a success. He's determined, that one."

"You'll have to let us know when it opens. We'll stop by," Maggie says.

"Sounds like fun," I add.

"You got it. I'll make sure to hook you up with VIP."

"Nice." Barry holds his fist out and they bump.

Our food comes and we spend the rest of the night listening to Zane and Barry talk about their antics with this guy Crew. Maggie assures me that I've met him, but I don't recall.

"He's gorgeous, Berklee. You would remember, trust me."

I laugh at her. "We pretty much stopped following this guy around like a puppy once high school hit." I point to Barry. "Sounds like I missed out."

"Oh you did, B. You so did." Maggie laughs.





LOOKING AT THE clock on the microwave, I see I have thirty minutes until I have to meet Zane at the club. I gulp back the rest of my coffee, place the cup in the sink and gather my stuff. It took me all damn weekend, but I finally finished the packet for the liquor license. I'm sure someone with a business background could have done it faster, but I found myself consulting Google more often than not. I've been putting in countless hours of research but it's worth it. I want Club Titan to be a success.

First order of business for Zane today is for us to find a manager or administrator or whatever we decide to call it. As owner, I want to do just that-own the club. See it thrive. I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

I'm almost to the club when Coffee House comes into view. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm parked in front of the building and climbing out of my car. The bell jingles when I open the door, announcing my presence. My eyes lock on the counter and there she is, the blue-eyed, autumn-haired girl from last week. I flash her a smile and make my way to the counter.

"Good morning," she says.

"Morning," I reply, never taking my eyes off hers. Their color reminds me of the sky on a clear summer day.

"Coffee, black, biggest we have." She smiles.

That smile. She's fucking gorgeous. I remind myself that I have to focus on the club. I can't let myself get distracted. Keep my eye on the prize and all that. As far as mental pep talks go, it's a good one, but it doesn't change the fact that I've already had three cups of coffee at home today and yet here I am.




 

 

Looking for her.

"You memorize all your customer's orders?" I ask.

"It's been a slow week," she says, turning to grab a cup.

It's a hit to my ego, but the sting is long forgotten as I stare at her ass in those tight little pants as she pours my coffee. All too soon she's turning around, and I curse the fact that I don't add all that other shit to my drink. Surely that would take her longer than to just pour my cup of black.