“If I wrote a song about Montana, it’d be called ‘Denim Denim Wood’,” I told Summer as she made room for us at the bar. I noticed a few people giving us second-glances, mostly because my body guard was posted a few feet away from us, standing out like a sore-thumb in all black with an angry scowl. (I made him smile once. Best day of my life.) He wasn’t staying with me at Jason’s ranch, but he’d flown in with Summer for the few days I’d be staying in Billings. He clasped his hands together and leaned back against the bar, watching the crowd around us.
Other than good ol’ Hank drawing attention, I didn’t think people recognized me. The lighting was dim and the setting was so off that there’s no way I had any fans inside the club. I reveled in the anonymity as Summer ordered us two Vodka sodas. I was still processing all of the Saki from dinner, and was definitely on the verge of seeing double, but I didn’t want to be a party-pooper.
While we waited for our drinks, I glanced down at my phone again. The only thing waiting for me was a text from Cammie.
Cammie: How’s the wild wild west treating you?
I smiled and shot her a reply.
Brooklyn: I’m toasted thanks to Summa.
Cammie: I approve.
“Cheers!” Summer said, passing me one of the drinks as I pocketed my phone.
When I glanced back up, two guys wearing suits that screamed, “WE’RE LAWYERS” headed toward us with confident smiles. While their suits were well pressed, their ties were loose, and their five o’clock shadows had started to appear. Not bad. Not bad at all.
“We were about to offer to buy you ladies a drink, but it looks like you beat us to it,” the one on the left said, pointing to my drink in hand. In my inebriated state, the only real difference I could find between the pair of them was that one was blonde and the other had dark brown hair. Maybe they were related. Maybe they were twins!
“Are you guys twins? Did your parents always dress you the same?” I asked, skipping over introductions. I didn’t want them to know my name and I didn’t want to lie and make up a fake one.
They laughed and exchanged a glance. Summer snorted. “They look nothing alike, Tipsy Tina.”
The guys laughed and the blonde one took a step closer to me. “Is that your name, Tina? I’m Collin.”
I had a few seconds to try and think of what my answer should be, but in those seconds I was focused on sipping my drink. Oops.
“Yeah, that’s me. Tina is the name… that I have.”
He laughed like he didn’t quite believe me. Maybe he knew exactly who I was but he was willing to play the game as much as I was.
“Tina, after you finish that drink, we should dance.”
Collin was confident; I’d give him that. And I couldn’t remember the last time I’d danced with someone in a club. I was usually too self-conscious to let myself go.
“Well, then, maybe you should shut up so I can finish quicker,” I slurred with what I assumed was a casually seductive smile. Chances are, it wasn’t.
He laughed and turned to the blonde guy to chat about things I didn’t care about, so I pulled my phone back out. Except, instead of texting Cammie back, I thought I had come up with the best idea known to man-kind. Drunk texting. I should definitely text Jason so that he knows that I haven’t forgotten about him. I bet he would definitely want to know that I’m okay since we’re kind of…sort of…friends. Okay, let’s put it this way: if I were inside of a burning building, he probably would think about saving me. That’s something. Two days before, he probably wouldn’t have even called the fire department. Progress.
I thought about what I should text him for one whole second. I wanted it to be organic and not too structured. Organic, yup, that’s what I wanted to sound like.
Brooklyn: I’m in a Montana honky-tonk bar and I’m going to dance with a guy named Cullen. He’s not twins or even related to the other guy he came with, isn’t that weird?
I smiled down at the text, proud of what I’d thought up. To me, I seemed aloof, charming, and seductive. But just to be sure, I attached a selfie of me winking and holding up my drink, just so he’d know how adorable I was.
“Did you just send that picture to someone? Because you looked like you had something poking your eye and you had some drool on your chin,” Summer said, trying to snatch my phone out of my hand.
Silly Summer didn’t know what she was talking about.
“How’s the drink coming along?” Cullen asked. Wait, was that his name? It seemed so right, but wrong at the same time.
“Fantastico,” I replied just as my phone buzzed in my hands.