“No offense meant, lady,” I told her, turning to the bartender. “One Bloody Mary for the lady, and a round for the house.”
I cast my eyes back on the girl. “I’m not buying you another drink, but I’m sure one of these strapping young lads would be happy to take my place.”
The first guy looked thrilled at the prospect, and the scene quickly died down. Within moments, the two of them were seated at a spare pair of barstools down the counter, and the pahd’ner was ambling back with his drink at my expense, apparently satisfied.
There were still eyes on me, but I expected that now. I’d started to recognize some faces since frequenting this fine establishment, and no doubt I’d raised some eyebrows. Maybe they didn’t know who I was, but they sure as hell knew I didn’t belong.
“Thanks for not causing a scene,” the bartender murmured quietly enough for only me to hear. “I know you’re still getting acquainted with the local flavor, but Southerners are fiercely patriotic… one syllable off your tongue, and you stick out like a sore thumb here.”
“Yeah, I’ve noticed,” I nodded thoughtfully.
“Anyway, this one’s on me,” he grinned, popping the top and dropping a second Newcastle beside the first.
“Cheers, mate.”
I noticed him glance over towards the door and grin knowingly. Since there was nothing better to look at in this place, I glanced over and spotted a trio that I didn’t recognize.
The Japanese chick was returning his smile. She was clad in some hodgepodge blend of biker gear and punk rock attire. Her interesting fashion sense somehow came together cohesively, even if it was a tad much. Who the fuck is she trying to impress?
The scrawny chap with the shaggy curls and the glasses looked mildly uncomfortable. Dressed in a ragged jacket and torn jeans, he looked like a highly functioning vagabond of some sort. When he made eye contact with me he looked even less comfortable, which almost made me grin. Did I just catch a hint of recognition? Maybe I’d finally found the one soccer fan in the whole country. I was hoping I wouldn’t bump into too many of those here…
My entire train of thought derailed as shaggy-head moved aside.
The bird between them stole the show.
I didn’t really go for the brunettes, but there she was, standing tall and confident. Her black dress elegantly hung around her womanly hourglass shape. Those beautiful eyes caught my attention in a heartbeat. Her radiant face scanned the room for a moment, zeroing on me at the bar, and a small smile crossed her lips.
Well, what do we have here?
The Japanese one noticed me as well, and whispered something into her ear. Their mate looked none too pleased, and he placed a hand on her shoulder and started to say something.
Bad move, apparently.
She shrugged off his touch and turned, quietly ripped him a new one, and then broke away from the two of them.
By the time she slipped into the chair beside me, I was thoroughly intrigued. The other two found a small bar table in the corner, which gave them a great vantage point to watch whatever we were about to do.
“Say something,” she told me.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
The mysterious young woman smiled. “That’ll do. What is that, Estuary?”
I raised an eyebrow.
“You know your accents.”
“Could say that.”
Unlike the other locals, she seemed to have a more dignified tongue, even if her own accent faintly slipped through.
It was my turn to smile.
“Who the Devil are you?” I asked.
“My name’s Riley,” the woman answered, holding out a small hand. Without thinking, I took it into my own, feeling how soft and delicate it was within my much sturdier grasp.
“Charmed. Call me Lex.”
“Lex,” she repeated, trying out the syllable for herself against the backs of her teeth. “I like that. Short for “Alexander?”
“Naturally.”
“Well, Alexander, just between you and me, would you like to know a secret?” She leaned in closer, watching my eyes. I couldn’t help but play along with whatever this was.
“Go on, then.”
Riley glanced around quickly, then whispered into my ear, as if she were telling me the most important secret in the entire world: “We’re going to fuck tonight.”
If there had been beer in my mouth, it would have sprayed across the counter. I took a quick, hard look at this woman who had sat down next to me, and I couldn’t help but shake my head in surprise.
Or was it admiration?
“Awfully presumptuous, yeah? And what exactly makes you think that I’m taking you to bed?”
“I don’t care what reason you pick,” she shrugged nonchalantly, smiling as the bartender walked over. “I just know that it’s going to happen.” Her tone shifted. “Hi, could I have a glass of shiraz?”