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Before: Two O'Clock


Ashley

"Two o'clock."

Nick lifted his drink from the bar and casually turned, his mouth on the rim of the glass, lips cupping it softly. His eyes roved the faces and bodies at two o'clock until they landed on our target. He turned back to the bar and put the glass down on the coaster. He picked up a couple peanuts from the dish at my elbow. "Really?" he asked.

"Yeah, I think so," I replied. I was leaning against the bar, back to the beer drafts, Nick on my right and some drunk girl on my left who was making her also drunk best friend swear she wouldn't let her go home with any guys from the bar like, no matter, like, what.

Nick twiddled the stem of the martini glass between his forefinger and thumb, spinning it on the bar top. He ate another couple peanuts. "Why?" he asked.

I shrugged. "She's not as wasted as the girl on my left and she's not as desperate as the girl with the thong playing pool."

"There's a girl in a thong playing pool?" Nick's voice was pitched. "What time is that at?" he asked, turning around.

"Keep your cool, Carter," I said under my breath, "Breaking ranks for lingerie. God." I rolled my eyes and he turned back to the counter slowly. "She has jeans over it," I added, "It's less of a show than you're imagining."

"Any show is show enough," he muttered, but he stayed subdued, facing his drink. He fished out the olive. "Olive?" he asked, nudging me.

I took it and popped it into my mouth, watching our two o'clock target for a moment as I chewed. Nick took a sip of his drink beside me. Meanwhile, across the bar, two o'clock was hijacking a glass from a nearby table while none of its occupants were looking. "I'm telling you," I said, "She's the one."

Nick finished off his drink. "Strategy?"

"Hmm." I studied her as she downed the drink she'd stolen and shimmied her way onto the dance floor, her hands up, and a loud, trailing woooo escaping her mouth. She found her posse amongst the crowd and they started dancing together. "Just approach," I said with a shrug. "If you move right, you might end up with a two-for," I added.

Nick turned, eyes trailing to Two O'clock and handed me a second drink. I took it and swished it, looking down at it as Nick raised an eyebrow at Two's backside.

"I mean you could trust your own instincts - ignore those of your trusty wingman and fly solo with Thongs but," I shrugged, "I'm telling you. Two's a sure bet."

Nick nodded. "All right." He took a deep breath, shook his shoulders out, and exhaled on me. "Does my breath smell?"

"Like death warmed over," I answered. "Don't breathe on her unless you're a necrophiliac and you're into that."

"No breathing," he nodded, "Got it."

I adjusted his tie. "Go get her, Tiger," I said.

Nick handed me a twenty. "Don't forget to close the tab," he said. "And for God sakes, take a cab, I don't wana pick you up again off the fucking freeway at four A.M. because you were too damn cheap to get a ride."

"Of course."

I watched as Nick wove his way through the cloud toward Two O'clock, accidentally bump into her, and begin a conversation. Even from this distance I knew the exact game he was playing. I could read his lips, see the words rolling off his tongue. I turned and put the untouched drink Nick had given me back onto the bar and made my way to the coat check room, putting the twenty Nick had given me into my bra.

Outside, the air was chilly and I walked with my hands stuffed low in the pocket of my jacket. My breath formed clouds on the air in front of me as I moved through the city. Lights streaked by, horns blared in the distance. The city was unusually loud for shortly before last call. But it was nice, having all the noise, it felt less lonely that way.




Nick

I could hear my phone somewhere vibrating. I peeled my face off the mattress it was pressed against and heard a feminine sigh. I glanced over my shoulder and saw a mass of blonde hair. I sat up slowly, being careful not to disturb the owner of the hair. I slid off the bed and crouched, naked, on the floor. My phone continued to vibe and I followed the sound of it on my hands and knees all the way to my crumpled jeans in the corner of the room. I pulled the phone out of the pocket carefully.

Dogface's contact photo was grinning up at me from the LCD, her crooked front teeth all bright white and stuff.

"Hello?" I breathed the word.

"I'll let you look at my boobs again if you have even the slightest idea what that girl's name is."

I gathered my clothes as quietly as I could and hermit-crabbed myself out the open bedroom doorway and into the hall, where I struggled with the buttons and straps of my clothes until I'd gotten them on and hustled down the stairs, carrying my shoes.

"You don't even have a smart ass guess?" she teased.

"Shut the hell up," I answered, and I hung up on her.

She called back.

"What?" I demanded.

"Well?" she asked, "Was I right or was I right?"

"Yeah, you were right." I'd reached the front door. I carefully turned the handle and let myself out, pulling it shut behind me. "You're always right, I dunno what you're gloating about."

Dogface laughed. "I just like hearing you say it."

"Yeah well."

"And was Two O'Clock good?" she asked.

"Very."

"No follow up, though."

"No follow up," I answered as I reached my car door, pulled on my sneakers, and slid the key in the ignition.

"One day, Carter, I'll find you a girl that'll earn herself a follow up."

"I've had follow ups before," I argued. "I'm not a total man whore."

Dogface snorted. "You're a man whore for sure, Carter. Follow up sex has nothing to do with your man whore status. I mean you'll eventually find someone that you'll follow up on forever."

I rolled my eyes. "I call bullshit."

"Someday it'll happen, you'll see."

"Shut up," I replied, and I hung up. Again.