Boycotts and Barflies (5 page)

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Michael put the keys into the ignition and exploded with laughter.

“That went … well,” Ryan managed to get out between breaths.

“Your face, Jack …” was all Michael could sputter.

Jack cursed. “Your mom’s idea sucked, Ryan! That girl wasn’t very nice,”

Jack mumbled as he changed the radio station.

Michael’s thoughts drifted back to the beautiful woman who had taken on Jack and left him speechless in the aisle. No one ever stood up to Jack. His size alone was intimidating, and yet this girl, with her dark brown eyes, not only stood up to him, but she did it without blinking. And from the way the corners 26

of her beautiful mouth twitched, she seemed to find the whole exchange just as

hilarious as Michael had.

She was intriguing, she was beautiful, and from what Michael could tell, she had a sense of humor. Maybe there are nice girls at the library, he thought to himself as he started the car and drove Jack and Ryan back to their apartment. 27

Chapter 3

The drive to Seattle was a riot. Once the girls climbed in the car, they never stopped laughing. Grace loaded their favorite songs on her iPod, and  they spent the two and a half hour drive singing along, doing elaborate hand motions to go along with the beat. Driving down the highway, they would get the fun -niest looks from the other cars they passed, but they hardly noticed because they were simply having a blast.

Grace held the tickets in her hand as they skipped toward the entrance gate. The guy scanning the tickets looked at them and smiled. “Wow, these are great seats, ladies. Follow the signs for Club Level to the elevator. Enjoy the game.”

He motioned them through the turnstile and they headed left, following the bright blue signs overhead.

An older gentleman in a blue-green sports coat stood in front of a set of elevators marked ‘Club Level Seating.’ The girls smiled and proudly showed him their tickets. With a nod of his head, he held open the doors to the elevator and wished them ‘good day’ as they began to close.

When the elevator doors opened again, the women were overwhelmed by the delicious smells of the mouthwatering food that they found arranged on a huge table to the right. The buffet was surrounded by smaller tables, each covered in long, white tablecloths. The usher who greeted them as they exited the elevator explained that the buffet was complimentary to all Club Level Seating guests  and told them to help themselves to whatever they wanted.

“These are amazing tickets Amanda gave us,” Grace mumbled as she looked

over at her friends in awe.

Bianca and Meg nodded their heads in agreement as they headed over to make themselves a plate of food and order a drink from the bar. They settled at a table which overlooked the stadium. On their plates, they had piled everything from chicken wings and mini quiches to pasta, Caesar salad, and roast beef sandwiches. Even with all that food, there were still things on the buffet they hadn’t even looked at yet. The food was delicious and tasted like it had been prepared at some swanky restaurant rather than at a football stadium.

Meg ate her fill then happily sat back in  her chair, looking around at all the excited fans as they milled past on the way to their seats. “Oh look! I want one of those foam fingers, Grace. Where do we get those?” Meg asked with a huge smile, her childlike wonder getting the best of her.

“I bet there’s a souvenir stand somewhere on this level that carries them. Why don’t you go wander around and we’ll wait here for you?” Grace grinned as  Bianca just looked up in horror at the thought of Meg wielding the foam monstrosity.

Meg squealed, grabbed her purse, and ran over to a gentleman who was proudly waving his foam fingers over his head. After a quick conversation, he smiled and pointed Meg in the direction of the stand where he’d purchased it. She waved then took off like a shot into the crowd.

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Grac e and Bianca were just about to go search for their missing friend, when  suddenly a flash of blue approaching the table caught their attention. Out of the  corner of their eyes, they saw a girl wearing a Seahawks hat, jersey, scarf, and,  of course, foam finger, waving frantically in their direction.

“Meg?” Bianca gasped in shock as she lifted the bill of the cap to get a good look  at the girl’s face underneath. “What the hell happened to you? Did you stumble  into the locker room and get turned into the honorary team mascot?”

she asked in revulsion.

“No, Miss Party Pooper. I’m just trying to show some team spirit. Look, I got  you hats, too!” In Meg’s hand were two baseball caps, identical to the one she  was wearing.

Bianca looked disgusted, certainly imagining what the hat would do to her  beautiful hair, which she’d spent a ridiculous amount of time styling this 29

morning. She held the hat between two fingers and examined it like she was

checking it for lice.

Grace, on the other hand, shrugged and whipped her hair into a quick pony tail,

pulled it through the back of the hat, and put it proudly on her head.

“Go Seahawks!” she yelled, pumping her fist into the air, which delighted Meg.

Bianca rolled her eyes and grudgingly put hers on backwards, growling,

“Yeah, go birds …”

They quickly finished eating, threw away their trash, and started off to find

their seats, which to their utter surprise, were in the front row. They were on

the Seahawks’ side of the field—the fifty yard line was directly in front of them,

giving the girls the best seats in the house. As the Seahawks players warmed

up, the girls couldn’t help but scope out the fine physical specimens running

around on the field before them.

Bianca had the binoculars pinned to her face most of the first half, rating the behinds of all the Seahawks players. Having chosen her favorite player by his splendidly muscular butt, she decided mid-way through the second half that she wanted to buy his jersey from one of the shops in the stadium.

Grace promptly handed Bianca a ticket stub so she could get back up to the club level and find their seats after her little outing. Not in the mood to shop,  Grace and Meg stayed put, enjoying the rest of the extremely close game.

Nearly a half hour had passed when Bianca finally came back, wearing her new hat, the number eighty-eight jersey, and a totally pissed - off look on her face. “What the hell happened to you?” Meg asked cautiously.

Other than her furious face, Bianca looked absolutely fabulous in the jersey. Somehow, she had managed to alter the shirt by cutting it so it was more like a half-shirt rather than a bulky football jersey. In her hand, she clutched a small bag of popcorn as she flopped down into the seat next to Grace.

“Ugh. Guys at football games are such pigs! You’re not going to believe what happened to me.” There was nothing but venom in her voice as she spoke.

“So, I leave the club level in search of my jersey, which I find, no problem.

After a little trip to the bathroom and a few minor alterations, it was finally wearable. I changed and started heading back this way when I decided to stop at a concession stand before I came back because the popcorn smelled so good. While I’m standing in line waiting, out of the  blue, the guy next to me leans over … and grabs my ass!”

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Meg and Grace burst out laughing because they both knew exactly what Bianca did when guys touched her without permission: she decked them.

Not missing a beat, Bianca continued with her story. “I turned around and said  ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ and he gave some lame excuse about not trying to grab my ass, he was trying to grab his wiener. Can you believe it?

What a freak show this place is!” She was so furious, she was almost shouting, and by now, her story had got the attention of a few of the people sitting nearby.

Many of them were now chuckling and had turned toward Bianca to listen to the rest of the story.

“He actually … he said he was trying … to … grab his wiener?” Grace gasped while trying not to hyperventilate, she was laughing so hard.

“What did you do?” Meg squeaked out between laughs. Even though she already knew the answer, she wanted to hear Bianca say it.

“I decked him, of course. He was pretty big too, but he should have a nice black eye by morning! You know he had the nerve to try and follow me up here? Luckily, Mitch, that sweet guy in the green coat, stopped his regular- admission-ass at the elevator,” she said with a humph.

“Sorry you were molested at the football game, Bianca. I really thought it’d be fun,” Grace said trying to keep a straight face by biting her lip until it almost bled.

“Don’t worry. I’m having fun, perverts and all. And actually, he was kind of cute, for a perv …” Bianca gave Grace a big hug so she knew she wasn’t really mad.  “Really, how can I be in a bad mood when I’m surrounded by so many muscular guys in tight pants?”

They spent the last few minutes of the game laughing about Wiener Guy, as they had lovingly named him. With their hats, popcorn, jerseys, and foam fingers in hand, the girls filed out of the stadium after an exciting day at the game and began the long trip back to Portland, laughing about the adventure they had managed to have on their trip to Seattle.

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So, the quest to find a nice girl over the last week hadn’t been going very well

for the guys. After the fiasco at the library, Jack refused to even so much as

touch a book; most certainly he was still reeling from the beating his ego took

at the hands of the ‘naughty librarian,’ as they referred to her. Michael often 31

found himself thinking about the woman in the library, wondering if he might

be able to casually bump into her if he went back for a visit. The guys spent

their weekend off getting some much needed rest and relaxation, but when

Monday night rolled around, it was time to get back to the bar.

Michael was the first one to arrive at work. Ryan and Jack came flying in fifteen

minutes late, full of apologies. “Sorry, dude, it’s not my fault. Jack took a little

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longer than normal to get ready this evening,” Ryan whispered, tilting his head  subtly in Jack’s direction, a small grin on his face.

Michael was about to ask what made Jack take so long when Vicki came  screeching over to the bar. “Oh my God, Jack! What happened to you? Did you  get into a fight?” She had grabbed his face and pulled it closer so she could  inspect  him.

Jack’s face turned red at all the attention Vicki was paying to his little injury,  one Michael and Ryan both knew Jack desperately wished he could make  disappear.

“Really, it’s no big deal. I just … um … ran into something. It was an accident, a  misunderstanding.” He was being evasive, which made Vicki even more  suspicious as she pulled the dark sunglasses off his face.

She wheeled around and faced Ryan. “Did you do this to him? Did you guys get  into a fight this weekend?”

His lips tightly pursed to hide the smile that was trying to escape, Ryan silently  shook his head no. Michael could see his friend was using all his concentration  to keep a straight face. Jack watched from behind Vicki, waiting to see if they’d  both keep their mouths shut.

With Ryan’s denial, she turned her anger toward Michael. “How could you?” “Stop yelling at us, Vic, we didn’t do anything. Stupid over there picked a fight  with someone at the football game yesterday, that’s all. And for the record, it  was all his fault.” Michael looked at Jack who mouthed a silent ‘thank you’

from behind her back.

“Well, you look like hell, Jack, and that makeup you tried to plaster on it isn’t  covering anything!” She stormed off in a huff and went to help the other  servers set up their stations.

Without a word to Jack, who was putting back on his sunglasses, Michael  picked up his clipboard and started going through the evening’s checklist. Ryan  walked in the back, still snickering, while Jack got started on changing the kegs. 32

If Vicki only knew the real story behind Jack’s eye, she’d be laughing her ass off,  Michael thought as he finished getting things ready to open the bar.

The Vault was packed that night. There were three parties going on, plus it seemed like half of Portland decided to come there, for some unknown reason. Michael had felt a migraine coming on all night, but he tried to shrug it off.

Knowing how busy they were, he didn’t want to leave Ryan and Jack one man short. He was desperately trying to hang on, but when he broke out in a cold sweat and threw up in the trashcan, Michael knew it was time to go home.

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The next morning, with his migraine a distant memory, Michael felt much  better and decided to give the guys a call to apologize for leaving them short- handed last night.

A very groggy Jack answered on the third ring. “What?”

“Hey, Jack, it’s me.”

“Oh, man, how you feeling? Did your head finally explode?”

“Thanks for the concern, Jack. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m fine. I was going  to apologize for having to leave last night, but now I don’t feel so bad,”

Michael snarled, but his anger had no effect on Jack, except to make him boom  with laughter.

“So how was it last night? Did I miss anything good?” he asked when Jack’s  laughter had died down a bit.

“Oh, you missed it. Ryan almost lost his money last night!” Jack’s voice became  much more animated and Michael could hear him moving around in bed.

“What happened? And with whom?” Michael sat up, his interest now piqued.  Ryan was very selective when it came to women so he knew this had to be  good. Before he could ask another question, Michael heard Ryan pick up  another line at their place.

“For the last  time, Jack, I did not almost lose my money. Nothing happened, so  shut up about it. You two gossip like a couple of old ladies,” Ryan snapped. “This is a private conversation, Mr. Nosy. Did Michael call you? No, he called  me, so get off the phone!” Jack yelled.

“Will one of you just tell me what happened?” Michael interrupted.

Jack decided to start the story. “So, I was minding my own business  ”—

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Ryan interrupted. “He was flirting with a bachelorette and her friends at the bar, letting them touch his muscles. Shamelessly trying to earn some extra tips is probably more accurate. Minding his business, my ass!”

Jack loudly cleared his throat. “Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, I look over at  Ryan and he’s all frozen like a deer in headlights, looking across the bar at this chick. She was cute, too; super blond hair, nice little body.” Ryan cursed at Jack under his breath. “He was so preoccupied with her, a customer threw a maraschino cherry at his head to get his attention.”

Michael  couldn’t help but laugh at that mental image.

“Wait, it gets better. The girl must have seen him looking at her like some sort of freaky stalker, but still saunters over and orders a drink from him. He’s so distracted by her that instead of putting the soda for her rum and Coke in the glass, he pours it all over his shoe and damn near flooded the bar.”

“The nozzle malfunctioned, you moron. I hit the fill button and the stream of  Coke came out, and then it wouldn’t stop. It had nothing to do with being distracted.” His voice got all sappy at the end.

“Mike, I swear, he actually had drool coming down the side of his mouth!  Aarrrgghh! Stop it, Ryan … Get away. I’m telling the truth, I saw you drool …  Damn it, put down the fucking pillow.”

Michael heard the phone drop to the floor then slide across the hardwood while the two of them apparently wrestled in the background. A long string of profanities later, there was the sound of a slamming door and the click of a lock.

Jack returned to the phone victorious. “I’m  back. Dude, I’m telling you, he was so hot for this girl. She was cute —a real artsy type. I don’t think he even said a single word to her. Then, when I jokingly called her a barfly, he put me in a headlock. We may need to hold an intervention for him or something.”

“Well, I sure am sorry I missed all the fun. You know what I think Ryan needs? I think he needs a quick trip to the gym to work out all his aggres-sions … or his pent up energy. You in? I’ll pick you guys up in twenty minutes.”

When Michael pulled up to their apartment, Ryan climbed in the backseat and  Jack jumped up front. Michael couldn’t resist the urge to tease Ryan a little more. “So, Ryan, seriously, you’re falling for a barfly?” Michael felt a sharp smack the back of his head and a lot of cursing from the back seat. Jack’s deep laughter filled the car as they headed off to the gym.

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Chapter 4

G race adjusted her headphones, making sure they were securely on her ears before she walked out of the locker room. With her iPod, towel, and water bottle in hand, she headed over and claimed one of the open treadmills.

After setting the resistance level, she draped her towel over the bar and started jogging at her usual brisk pace.

The treadmill faced a mirrored wall, so as she ran, Grace could watch the people moving through the gym behind her. Her eyes stopped on one of the television monitors where a local sports program was running highlights from that weekend’s Seahawks game. Thoughts of Wiener Guy and the black eye he

had to be sporting popped i nto Grace’s head, making her chuckle as she

continued on her run.

Michael, Jack, and Ryan had been working out for about a half hour when  Michael decided it was time to try and get some more information out of Ryan about the mystery girl he had met at the  club the night before.

“So, Ryan, are you going tell me anything about the girl?” Michael sat down and took a break on the weight bench.

“Can’t … talk … lifting … heavy things,” Ryan gasped as he thrust the dumb-bells over his head, completing seven more reps before he stopped. As Michael sat and waited for him to finish, he couldn’t help but notice a beautiful blond with huge, cosmetically enhanced breasts wandering around the free weights.

She was trying to be subtle in her tight white T-shirt, but every few seconds, she’d glance over in Michael’s direction and smile.

She circled a few more minutes and then made her way over. “Excuse me; you look like a big strong guy. Can you show me how to lift these weights properly?  I wouldn’t want to hurt myself,” she giggled, lamely twirling a piece of her hair. He noticed Jack across the room preening in a mirror. “See that guy, the one fixing his hair? Ask him. He’s really good with the weights; he can teach you all kinds of things.” Her eyes grew wide with excitement and she chased off after  Jack, like a dog in desperate need of a bone.

Ryan started laughing. “Not nice to sick her on poor unsuspecting Jack.

Not nice at all.”

“Give me a break. He loves this kind of thing—just look at him.” Michael  pointed over at Jack, who was already standing behind the girl, helping her lift  the feather-light weights over her head, while she blatantly flirted with him. Ryan put his weights down and sat next to Michael on the bench, prying open  his bottle of water.

“So, I’m waiting,” Michael prodded again.

“There’s nothing to tell, Mike. I saw this girl at the bar. She was absolutely  gorgeous, and for some reason, I just panicked and couldn’t produce a coherent  thought, much less speak. My emotions got the better of me. I also may have  been distracted and spilled some Coke on my foot,” he admitted with a

sheepish grin.

“Did you get her name, a number, anything?” It was rare for Ryan to be  rendered speechless by a woman.  He was always so cool and collected. For him  to be flustered was a very big deal.

“No, not that it would have mattered anyway. We do have a little wager about

no barflies, and since I met her at the bar, she’s off limits, remember?”

Michael could tell Ryan was disappointed, but he didn’t know her at all. She

could have a pea-brain like the rest of the bar girls for all he knew.

“Don’t worry, man. If it’s meant to be, then you two will meet again.”

Michael grimly chuckled as he slapped Ryan on the back. Then he looked down

at his empty water bottle. “I’ll be right back. I need a drink.” As he left the

bench, he was still laughing about Ryan’s predicament.

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Thirty minutes and a bottle of water later, Grace was finally done with her run and happily stopped the treadmill so she could catch her breath. Beads of sweat had started dripping down her forehead so she gave her face a quick wipe with her towel. Knowing she still wanted to do a few more machines before she left, Grace found her empty water bottle and headed over to the water fountain to refill it. While she was walking, her favorite song started playing on the iPod.

She cranked the volume as she approached the water fountain, enjoying the tune.

Singing to herself as she held the water bottle in the continuous stream of cold water, Grace waited until it was filled all the way to the top before screwing the lid on tightly. She bent over the fountain and took a quick sip for herself, then quickly turned to head back over to the machines when she crashed into something hard, or rather some one hard.

Two strong arms reached out and caught Grace as she found herself in the embarrassing position of having her sweaty face and body clamped against some strange man’s chest. “Oh! So sorry!” she said without even looking up, feeling her cheeks flame with embarrassment. Grace took a deep breath and nervously glanced up to see what unfortunate soul she had just thrown her

not-so -fresh self at. To her complete surprise, she was met by a smiling face

with a familiar pair of sparkling blue eyes looking down at her.

In what looked like slow motion, the man opened his mouth and she watched

his lips move but Grace couldn’t hear a single word. “Huh?” she said, and for

some reason that amused him because he started to laugh. Grace realized that

she was still pressed up against his chest and started to back away when his

hand shot out and brushed against her cheek. Her heart started beating wildly

in her chest at the contact. She felt like she ha d just run the fifty yard dash,  simply from his light touch across her skin.

His fingers looped around her head phones as he gave them a gentle tug,  freeing the buds from her ears and sending loud music spilling into the air  around them. He leaned into her . “Can you hear me now?”

Grace gasped when she finally heard his deep, smooth-as-silk voice in her

ear. The music! Grace scolded herself. She was mortified when she realized

that it had been up so loud she couldn’t hear a word that he had said and that  she had probably screamed her apology at the top of her lungs.

“Yeah, I can hear you. Sorry about that before,” she mumbled as she forced  herself to step away from his hard and deliciously masculine body. She stared  at him, completely drawn in by his hypnotic blue eyes. They were so perfect,  and 37

so familiar for some reason. As her heart continued to flutter in her chest,

Grace realized who he was and why he looked so familiar. He was one of the  guys from the library. He looked different in less clothing … much better, in her  opinion.