Chapter 3
THREE
“If you think that’s bad…” I slapped a palm over my face, spreading my fingers enough to peek out at Zac, my boss and the owner of the Drunken Kraken, and his girlfriend, Catalina.
Zac’s lower half remained on the employee, access-to-booze side of the bar, while Catalina teetered on the edge of the stool across from him. They made a triangle with the upper portions of their bodies, their kiss hello heavy on tongue, until they’d eventually switched to whispering sweet nothings onto each other’s lips.
I was so happy for them, and not at all jealous.
The lie gnawed at the lining of my gut, as if I needed reminding of how intensely I’d longed for a love like that. Passion and friendship and comfort and romance and security. Inside jokes and shared memories to block up over time until we’d built something strong and beautiful together.
But I bumbled around and wrecked the foundation before the metaphorical cement had time to set. From there it’d be all rough sailing and skinned knees, only to find, at the end of two or three months, that they weren’t “looking for anything serious right now.”
I heard what they left off—they weren’t looking for anything serious with me .
A few of my former flames acted baffled I’d even want that when my life was so chaotic, as if being spontaneous and a little bit scattered meant I never wanted a steady place to land. Perhaps I’d forgotten where I placed my steady place, but fueled by my intuition, caffeine, and the universe, I’d find my way there.
It’d be even better if that person acted as a lighthouse, my true north in a sea of hyperactivity and distractibility, although I could also handle myself.
There was a big difference between could handle and not having any other option, though, and lately the San Diego dating pool had been filled with jellyfish stings.
Zac purposely situated himself in my line of sight, similar to how Nova had done earlier. “Out with it, Zo.”
“Just remember, we’re here to help, not judge.” At least Catalina’s voice lacked Zac’s raillery.
Still, I hesitated…
“No offense, but isn’t judging sort of your thing? What if you react poorly, and then that’ll be in my head forever, and instead of helping me overhaul my flirting game, it’ll make it worse.” Equal parts truth and a delay tactic, I’d blurted out the words to grant me a few extra seconds to sort which parts of my exchange with Graham to filter out from the segments that were absolutely pertinent to my failed wooing.
“No offense?” Catalina transformed into the badass lawyer who terrified the opposition in court right before my eyes, shooting my spine straighter. Since falling in love with Zac, she’d softened at the edges a bit, but challenge her, and the shark would come out chomping. “My thing isn’t to judge, it’s to convince the judge to see the evidence in the case the way I want him to. So, what you’re looking for, my dear, is a competent person to spin a misstep into an opportunity.
“That’s me,” she added with a cocksure half smile. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet.”
“Okay, fine.” What was I thinking, getting my boss and his lawyer girlfriend involved in my love life? Or lack thereof. Various cocktail, wine, and beer glasses rattled together as I opened the top rack of the dishwasher beneath the bar and began stacking them together. “At first, the run-in was playing out just the way I’d hoped. Nova and I were coming back from our walk, and there he was.” A swoony sigh escaped. Normally, I didn’t allow myself to crush so hard without comparing star charts, but I’d decided to shake up my tried-and-failed system and do things differently.
After peeling away the unnecessary layers, I’d learned to trust my gut above all, and it told me that Graham and I could be magic.
Since Zac and Catalina prided themselves on their logic, I didn’t bother saying any of that to them, focusing on the cold, hard facts instead. “His hair looked the way it always does at the end of the workday, all adorably disheveled from running his fingers through it, and I came this close”—I juggle a couple of glasses to demonstrate with my thumb and forefinger—“to demanding he give me a turn at ruffling the strands myself.
“Don’t worry, I didn’t.” I spun the tower of glasses on our logoed coaster, a kraken with a beer in each tentacle. It’s what caught my eye when I applied, but management and the chill vibe was what kept me tending bar here for the past three years. “I did, however, ask if he wanted me to wear a collar.”
Brown and blue eyes flew equally wide, and I made a gesture between a wince and a sheepish grin.
There was that saying about taking off the last accessory, as it was often the piece that tipped the scales from perfect to excessive. That pretty much summed up my life, but especially my dating life. A conversation would be going swimmingly and then boom, one line too long, one minute too long, one disastrous date past when I should’ve ended things.
A customer approached, interrupting my embarrassing retelling one minute too late, and I pivoted to snag a bottle of gin. I mixed, poured, garnished and served.
The customer didn’t head to a table or booth, the way I both wanted him and didn’t want him to. The fact of the matter was, if I wanted a special someone to cuddle up to at the end of the day—a human someone who wouldn’t drool all over my pillow or have kibble breath but was also okay with the creature at the foot of the bed who did both—I needed help.
“…pretty gal like you must get hit on all the time.”
Ah. So that was why the guy lingered. As I mentioned, here at the bar, I occasionally got hit on. Being drunk lowered inhibitions and I happened to be in the vicinity. For some reason, the men who hit on me at the Kraken were either old enough to be my dad, like the man leering at me from over the rim of the gin and tonic I’d made him, or they were early twenties and still in their party phase.
The closer I got to thirty, the more immature the boys seemed, and the less interested I became in coeds who were experimenting. And while the college crowds had abs for days and enough energy to keep up with me in the water, I’d found their stamina in the bedroom to be...inadequate.
Given the infuriating number of belligerent men who wouldn’t accept a lack of interest—particularly in this older, entitled subset—I gave the response that ridded me of misguided suitors the fastest. “I have a boyfriend.”
I’d delivered it with an amiable-yet-not-overly-friendly smile so he wouldn’t get pissy and short me on the tip. His type respected my having a boyfriend more than anything else I could say, while saying I had a girlfriend only invited inappropriate remarks about joining us, but the main thing that sucked about the lie was I’d felt extra lonely lately.
Nova helped with the loneliness, although he kept me nice and exhausted, too.
As for my physical needs… My vibrator just wasn’t doing it anymore. Not to mention kissing had always been one of my favorite parts of sex. That was the intimacy this hopeless romantic craved, body and soul.
Mere seconds after my customer abandoned the stool, Catalina took his place. “Time to spill the rest of the story, and there’ll be no pleading the fifth.”
“Harsh,” I said, only semi-jokingly. I glanced from her to Zac, wishing I could siphon some of their confidence without taking any away from them. Mine had recently taken a hit, and not even creating more product for my Etsy shop was lifting my spirts, so I doubted rehashing this afternoon’s disaster would help.
Then again, it couldn’t do much more damage. “I thought maybe Graham and I were on the way to a moment, but then Nova was attacking his bag of Chinese takeout. After a slight kerfuffle, I gained control of the bag and lifted it in the air to save the food. Only some of the sauce spilled on me, and when Graham pointed it out, I swiped it off my collarbone with my thumb, sucked it off, and…” I flinched. “Told him that I might be digging through his trash for leftovers along with Nova.”
Zac freaking guffawed, and both Catalina and I glared daggers in his direction.
“ I’m getting in trouble?” he asked, dropping his jaw as he flattened a hand to his chest. “How am I not supposed to laugh at that? You know I love you, Zo, but you’re the most awkward person I’ve ever met.”
“Oh, I’m painfully aware.” I rubbed my fingertips across my forehead, but it didn’t do anything to ease the heat flooding my face. “Anyway, I blurt out that comment about digging through the trash, snag hold of Nova’s leash, and basically sprint into my house, no further explanation. So now, instead of planning out ways to see my soulmate, I have to avoid him for the rest of my life.” I shrugged a shoulder, doing my best to act unaffected. “Oh, well. There’re plenty of fish in the sea. Not cute British fish with accents that make me want to…”
“Hop in the pond for a midnight swim?” Catalina supplied for me, and I nodded and sighed, the sound as wistful as I felt.
I’d read my horoscope every single morning for a week, waiting for just the right day, and this was supposed to be it. How had it all gone so wrong? “He didn’t even remember my name. At this point, the only thing I have going for me is that he really likes my dog. Enough that he remembered his name. Thus the collar-joke-gone-wrong.”
“Ah,” Zac said with a nod. “Makes sense. In that Zoie sort of logic, anyway.”
“Ha-ha.” I managed to force out the words, but a sob nearly came out as well.
Zac draped his arm around my shoulders. “Hey. The guy sounds like an idiot. Who needs him?”
I do. The butterflies that’d swirled to life the first time I laid eyes on Graham sagged, my spirits along with them. This was just like me, though. Fixating on a particular guy or girl and the fairy tale I envisioned for us instead of the reality unfolding before my enraptured eyes.
Then, in the name of keeping the fantasy going, I’d do foolish things. From stifling parts of myself to ignoring red flags, as well as my own needs in a relationship, to making excuses for why they routinely treated me like shit.
“He’s just going through a difficult time right now,” I’d argue whenever my friend Ethan pointed it out. “Her aunt recently went through a breast cancer scare.”
“She’s still friends with her ex; it’s not a big deal.”
“He’s still friends with his ex; it’s not a big deal.”
Each time he made me voice it aloud, it forced me to hear it. But I’d clung to denial so hard during my last relationship, and what’d meant to be a grand gesture shone a spotlight on the disparity on the devotion we had for each other.
And how it was actually more like the unreciprocated devotion I had for Briana, my ex-girlfriend, and the partner who’d cut me deepest.
You just get so set on things, Zo-Zo, Ethan would say whenever I complained about my disastrous dates and relationships. I’m not trying to hurt your feelings; I’m trying to help you spot the difference so you can avoid getting your feelings hurt by some asshole.
Besides Zac and his brother, Noah, who honestly felt like big brothers to me, I’d known and worked with them so long, Ethan was the steadiest guy in my life.
And even he’d be leaving me soon, off to take a job at a law firm in Raleigh, North Carolina. In addition to being from there, his family, which included his twin brother, lived there, so I only blamed him a little for accepting a position that’d put so much distance between us. He’d told me I could visit but joked that he’d be keeping me away from his brother, Evan, as dudes who’d never actually commit to me happened to be my kryptonite.
Meanwhile he’d gone in the opposite direction, choosing abstinence, primarily due to a lack of free time while completing his legal internship. Which reminded me, I’d meant to have Catalina chat up her firm around him. Was it foolish to think that if she found him a job in San Diego, he might stay for me?
Like that scab you’d forgotten about on your arm and scratched off without meaning to, a bygone ache oozed to life. Logan hadn’t stayed.
Why would Ethan?
Why would anyone?
“Ugh, he’s right,” I said aloud, and that’d be the only time I’d admit it, or I’d never hear the end of it.
“No, he’s an idiot,” Zac said, slowly dropping his arm and stepping back to give me space. “For the record, anyone who doesn’t see how great you are falls into that category.”
“Thanks, Boss.” The title wasn’t anything Zac insisted on—smart-assery was just my go-to coping mechanism. “But Ethan’s the one who’s right. He’s always going on and on about how star charts can only get me so far, and I’m afraid he might have a point.”
“I’ll neither confirm nor deny.” Zac flashed Catalina a huge, showy grin. “My lawyer taught me that trick and, not to brag, but she’s really good at getting me off.”
“ Dios Ayúdame ,” Catalina muttered as she leaned across the bar and smacked his shoulder. “I think that’s enough information for Zoie to…process.”
I propped my elbow on the bar and my chin on my raised fist. “I’m kind of hoping I never fully process it.”
“In need of a subject change, are we?” Zac asked, and I bobbed my head. Too late, I realized I should’ve slammed the brakes instead, as he was headed full steam toward the second -to-last place I wanted to go right now. “Have you decided which cocktail you’re entering in the contest?”