Running Game(66)

“Your guy must have told you something,” I insisted. “Dish out the details. Get me amped to get pretty and scope this guy out.”

The door clattered open again, and I inwardly sighed. I knew exactly who it was, although Reiko didn’t appear to hear the sound of encroaching footsteps.

“Fine, fine,” Reiko conceded, thinking for a moment. “Usually comes in wearing a nice suit… sandy-brown hair, broad but streamlined build… handsome as fuck… that’s all that the dude told me.”

“Handsome as fuck? Did somebody call me?” Connor asked, poking his head through the door.

With his floppy hair and boyish good looks, enhanced by squared glasses, Connor completed our happy little triad. If only he wasn’t so obviously attracted to me, I thought to myself as he flashed me a sly smile.

“Nah, wasn’t describing you, bro,” Reiko sneered playfully.

He shrugged off the retort. “Who else could it have possibly been?”

“Just this rugged, British dude down at the bar,” she answered enthusiastically. “I’m trying to convince Riley that we need to go check this guy out, because seriously I think she might be able to score him.”

I couldn’t figure out if she was blissfully ignorant of his fixation on me, or if she was just effortlessly cruel, but Reiko offered this tidbit of information up with the giddiness of a schoolgirl.

“Oh, I see,” Connor answered quietly, retreating into a stoic face. “Is he at our usual spot?”

“Sounds like it,” I shrugged. “I figured it was worth a check. You up for tagging along?”

Connor looked crestfallen, but he bravely slapped on a smile. “Fuck yeah, I’ve been looking forward to this drink all goddamn day.”

“Rough day at the record store?”

“Definitely. Ever since Bowie shuffled off the mortal coil, we’ve been sold flat out of his records. Meanwhile, we’ve been swamped.”

“Would have thought you’d like the business,” I shrugged. “Aren’t you having trouble making the lease some months?”

“Well, yeah,” Connor grinned. “But it’s just me and Tiana there during the day and, well, we’re not staffed to deal with a glam rock god up and dying on us… if it’s not people pissed that we’ve run out of his discography, it’s people bugging us with a ton of questions about related artists…”

Overlooking the one-sided romantic fixation between us, I carried a lot of respect for Connor Carelli. While I was in some galleries and Reiko managed someone else’s sandwich shop and followed around that band, Connor had chased his dream of owning a bonafide record store.

The location was shit, the parking was worse, and the place was held together with a barebones staff and a lot of improvised renovations… but Connor’s little record shop was his. Not only that, but he’d developed a reputation for carrying a carefully curated selection of classic obscurities and important memorabilia.

“Just to let you know, the guy usually leaves around 9PM,” Reiko cut in. “So, if we’re going, we’d better get down there soon. Unless you think you can seduce him in half an hour, at any rate.”

I glanced at the clock. Despite the fact that the sunlight outside was only just waning now, it was already 7:30 PM. “Fuck these summers and their long hours…” I muttered to myself. “You two make yourselves comfortable. I’ve gotta get changed.”

“Don’t forget, your head is a canvas!” Reiko reminded me. She was used to me completely forgetting to wipe the paint smears off and apply a little makeup. “Put that artistic touch to work and get your face on!”

“Yeah, yeah…” I smiled, pushing past them to dive around the corner and into my bedroom. I reached into wardrobe and snagged a couple of items – a nice dress, a decent belt, a few accessories...

As I whipped off my oversized tee and my pair of black leggings, I suited myself up for what could be an interesting night.

I scanned my face in the mirror, tugging over my makeup bag from the top drawer beneath my sink. A little foundation, some contouring, maybe just a little refined shape to my eyebrows… I had the time to put this together.

The sounds of some old sitcom played from the living room. Undoubtedly, Reiko and Connor had made themselves comfortable on my couch, chilling with the Netflix on my old Xbox. At least they were occupied.

“Alright, Riley,” I whispered to myself as I lifted the first instrument of my quick, studious makeover. “He sounds like a catch, and he’s looking for something…” I smiled confidently at myself in the mirror. “You are gertting your mojo back! You are getting laid tonight by a thick, British cock. Time to get on the war paint…”