So tomorrow morning, we're all driving out to L.A., and will stay there for the week.
I drive home in a state that resembles drunkenness, parking the car in my usual spot. But then I see Blake's car, and adrenaline suddenly spikes my blood. He must be inside the bar tonight. He usually is on Mondays. I have not memorized his schedule, just...kept in mind some facts, purely for neighborly reasons. Ah, who am I kidding, I totally memorized his schedule.
So even though I'm dead tired, instead of going up to the apartment and sleeping like the dead, I head inside the bar. I want to see him, even if it's just for a few minutes to say hi.
To my utter shock, the place is packed. Mondays are usually laid-back. The second shock comes when I see Blake behind the counter alone. This can't be good. He usually has two bartenders on Monday. I knew my stalker tendencies would come in handy at some of point. Scratch that. Observant! That's it. I'm observant, not a stalker.
I watch him silently, amazed by his speed. Of course, the line is something like Sisyphus's chore. No matter how fast Blake is, the line isn't getting shorter because new customers line up constantly. I elbow my way through the crowd, and instead of lining up, I wedge myself between two men who are directly in front of Blake, waiting for their drinks. They shoot daggers with their eyes at me. Ask me if I care.
"Hey, why are you alone tonight?" I ask, leaning slightly across the counter so the other patrons can't hear me.
"Clara, hey! Didn't see you. Sent both my bartenders home an hour ago. They were coming down with some bug."
"Oh."
"And I have a full house tonight." He smiles as he hands a beer to one of the customers, but I've been observing Blake for long enough to know when he means a smile or when it's just a pleasantry. This is the latter. I have the sudden urge to make him laugh, or hug or kiss him, but it's not my place. Blake isn't mine, despite what happened on Saturday morning between us at the ranch. I don't want to raise my hopes that it was more than a hot morning. Without asking for permission, I walk around the bar, stepping behind the counter.
"What are you doing?" Blake asks.
"Lending you a hand."
"You're tired. Don't think I haven't noticed you didn't come home last night."
I smile, beyond thrilled that I'm not the only one who is observant.
"I'm handling this."
"I'm helping you."
Blake stares me down but I don't back away, instead holding his gaze, which is no small feat.
"Oi, still waiting for my drink," a man calls from behind the bar, cutting through the tension.
We have our hands full until well after midnight. Finally, when there are just three patrons left and it's only a few minutes before closing, I use the opportunity to use the personnel toilet.
On my way back, close to the door connecting the back office area with the bar, I hear a low, seductive female voice.
"Blake, you look sexier every time I see you."
I flatten myself against the wall. I can't see her through the open door, but if I can hear her, I imagine she either must have stepped behind the bar or is leaning across it, and they're nearby.
"Thank you, Sarah."
"You still live upstairs?"
"Yes."
My heart stops. I know it's terrible of me to eavesdrop, but I can't peel myself away, though this is one of those moments when my ability to make myself invisible is required. Instead, I'm rooted to the spot, forcing myself to breathe in and out. If Blake wants to take this woman upstairs and have his wicked way with her...
"I can wait for you to lock up," the woman says.
Stay put, Clara. Stay cool as a cucumber. Going out with women is his right, and it shouldn't be a big deal to me. It shouldn't matter at all. But it does, damn it, even though he's not mine. Yes, we kissed and had some hot fun, but it's not like we made each other any promises. Maybe it was a one-time thing, and I just didn't realize it.
"And then we can go upstairs. Like in the old days," she continues.
I feel a sharp pain in my chest as I hold my breath, waiting for Blake's answer. Please say no. Please, please say no.
"Don't take this the wrong way, Sarah, but it's not going to happen."
"Aww, what a pity. I'd ask why, but I don't want to hear you telling me you're off the market. It would be a stab to my ego, knowing I wasn't the one to tame you. It was good to see you, Blake."
"Take care."
I keep my ears peeled and hear the front door opening and closing, then Blake's footsteps heading away from the bar, presumably to lock the door and turn the sign to closed.