Chapter Eight
Boston
Nate’s pity party had ultimately led him to its inevitable conclusion: a bar.
After the MMA gym he went home to shower.
On top of feeling angry and disappointed, he now had self-loathing to add to the list. He was certainly upset about how his thesis pitch had gone, but not so upset that he should have lost control like that, cheap shot or not.
He knew there was something else gnawing at him.
It was the reason he didn’t sleep well, the reason he barely had any friends here in Massachusetts.
What happened two years ago in Yemen had left a hole in him, and it was one that academics couldn’t fill.
Nate had figured he wasn’t going to solve his problems moping around his apartment.
Then again, he wasn’t going to solve them at the bar either, but at least here he had distractions.
He’d thrown on some fresh clothes and headed a few blocks northwest to the Bebop on Boylston Street, a local Irish pub.
The location was far from a dive bar, though it maintained an authentic Irish feel.
The food was fantastic, and Nate had ordered a burger followed by several Yuengling lagers.
With a full stomach and a decent buzz going, he was already starting to feel better.
He liked this place. It was quiet, particularly on weekdays. The bartenders weren’t too chatty, and neither were the patrons, which served him just fine. He wasn’t much in the mood for conversation anyhow. He preferred to sit and brood alone.
However, it appeared that wasn’t in the cards tonight, for two reasons.
The first was the bartender who came on shift.
She was blond and pretty, and seemed to be showing an interest in Nate.
It started off with her asking if he needed a refill, progressed to flirtatious chatter, and escalated into full-on seduction. For his part, Nate let it happen.
He had dated irregularly over the last few years, with two longer flings mixed in.
But there hadn’t been anything serious in years, not since a girl he had dated back in Nashville.
After he left Tennessee it hadn’t worked out, and since he’d arrived in Boston he had been so focused on his studies that he hadn’t had time to pursue a serious relationship.
Still, an attractive woman making advances was always a pleasant experience.
Just as he was forgetting about the troubles of the day, the mood was ruined by the second reason he wouldn’t be drinking alone tonight. Brian Hill entered the restaurant, noticed Nate sitting at the bar, and walked over, plopping down on the stool next to him.
“Well damn, there you are. I was looking all over for you.” He slapped Nate on the back.
Brian was a friend, of sorts. The two had met in Nate’s first year at Harvard.
Brian, a little older, had gone to school for business, earning an MBA and working for an international company that dealt in plastics.
When he turned thirty, he decided to commission in the Army Reserve as a quartermaster and eventually applied to earn a PhD in accounting and management at Harvard Business School.
While the two had very little in common, the military was a shared experience that connected them.
Nate had attended a local event for veterans early on at the urging of his mentor.
While it turned out to be a wash, he did meet Brian, a man who was more comparable in age and with a smattering of similar experiences.
The businessman was taller and thinner than Nate and had started balding early in life.
He was a runner, and as such kept a lean frame with wiry arms and legs, though a flabby midsection showcased his love of beer.
He also possessed something Nate didn’t: the gift of gab.
As a former salesman and international businessman, he had a silver tongue and could talk most people into nearly anything.
“I heard you had a rough day, pal,” Brian said, ordering a Guinness.
Nate grunted. “Where did you hear that?”
Brian moved his hand around in a circular motion. “You know. Around.” The bartender delivered the beer, shot Nate a smile, and left. Brian took a long pull from the dark beer, foam clinging to his upper lip. “So, what happened?”
“You know, this may surprise you, Brian, but I don’t really feel like talking about it,” Nate said roughly.
His friend put his hands up in surrender. “Alright, alright, geez. You don’t have to bite my head off over it.”
Nate was doing it again. Lashing out at people who were in no way responsible for his circumstances, and he instantly felt like a jerk. He knew Brian was only trying to help, trying to be a friend.
“It’s fine,” he mumbled. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. No, it didn’t go well.”
“Hey, no worries, man.” Brian seemed to genuinely appreciate the apology. “I know it can be rough. If I had a nickel for every time I had a paper shitcanned by one of my professors, I’d be a successful businessman!” He laughed at his own joke.
Nate laughed too. It felt good, and he honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had done so.
Maybe a little company wasn’t so bad. It was certainly healthier than drinking alone.
Deciding that Brian might be a decent sounding board after all, he explained what had happened at his dissertation proposal.
“Sounds to me like you have two options,” Brian said after listening to the recounting of events.
“No shit.”
“I’m serious. You can either keep pushing this, which might be a huge waste of time and come back to bite you in the ass, or you can find a new topic.
There’s still plenty of time. If it were me, I’d just pick something else.
It’s not like it has to be groundbreaking, it just needs to be acceptable to the overlords of academia. ”
Nate mulled that over. Maybe Brian was right. The goal was to earn a degree, not prove he was right and that he hadn’t spent years wasting his time in pursuit of a goal that might never be realized. Maybe he needed to keep his eye on the ball.
It was also possible that he was drunk. He was trying to collect his thoughts, but they were elusive. Nate didn’t drink very often, but when he did, it affected him. That was just fine, he decided. He needed to cut loose. Nate lifted his beer.
“Cheers,” he said, as he drained the contents of the glass.
“Cheers,” Brian repeated. He took a swig and then set his beer down before yanking his thumb toward the bathroom. “I’m gonna take a leak.”
As Brian departed, Nate looked up to see the bartender looking at him with a coy gaze. When they locked eyes she smiled and walked over. “Another?” she asked with a smile, motioning toward his beer.
He winked at her. “Why not?”
Paige awoke as rays of light poured through the blinds. She momentarily wondered where she was and then suddenly remembered. Rolling over, she saw an attractive naked man lying next to her on the bed, snoring. She smiled.
She was from Boston originally, only leaving to attend the University of Alabama for four years.
She’d had a great time in the South, graduating with honors while making lifelong friends in her sorority, and wanted to return home for graduate school.
But while she had the grades to get into Harvard, she didn’t have the finances, so she worked full-time tending bar while attending Harvard law school.
Another snore made her laugh under her breath.
She had seen Nate around campus before, and they had even talked briefly once, though she didn’t think he remembered.
He had seemed to be in a hurry and the two had literally run into each other.
He had apologized vigorously while picking up her things and handing them to her.
She didn’t think he recognized her in the bar, but she didn’t hold it against him.
He had already been several drinks deep by the time she came on shift.
Slipping out of bed, Paige was completely naked.
While she was extremely comfortable with her body, knowing from endless nights of working at a bar that most men would consider her a ten, it still felt strange walking around naked in someone else’s place.
She reached down to a pile of clothes and plucked the gray T-shirt Nate had been wearing the night before and slipped it on.
It felt a little cliché, but it covered her up.
Going home with strangers was not a habit of hers. In fact, she generally played pretty hard to get with most men and had only given herself to the ones she was in committed relationships with. She had learned that the hard way, as she had been fooled by her share of creeps in the past.
But there was something different about Nate.
He seemed kind and sweet and somewhat innocent.
Last night at the bar he had been open and honest with her, telling her about his dissertation proposal that had been rejected, and that he hoped to someday teach archaeology at a university like Harvard.
He was so different from the usual jerks that came into the bar, and he’d not once used a pickup line, uttered one crude comment, or made any advances.
Paige had done all the advancing, and that made her like him more.
Tiptoeing across the room, she made her way to the kitchen to fetch a water glass from the cabinet and filled it from the sink.
Looking around, she could tell the place was a bachelor pad.
Only the bare necessities were present. There was a couch, a coffee table, and a TV in the living room.
The kitchen bar had two stools. The bedroom she had just left contained a bed and a nightstand.
It was all very utilitarian, and nothing hung on the walls, nor were there knickknacks of any sort.
Surely he had some sentimental possessions.