Someone’s Trash…
The black trash bags, which contain what’s left of my wife, loudly land in the dark green dumpster. I couldn't have found a better alley to make her final resting place.
“What do you think, baby?” I look down at the last black trash bag sitting next to my dark brown dress shoes. “Is this good enough for you?”
The last bag is a bit heavy, but I’m able to grab it by the red drawstrings and throw it in the dumpster with the others. “I know it’s a little smaller than what you’re used to.”
The area has been cleared of any signs of the investigation since they found Ruben, or as Thalia would call him, the neck tattoo guy.
The now- famous alley in New York City is no longer considered a crime scene.
The local businesses took notice and went back to refilling the dumpster with their trash as if nothing ever happened.
Looking over the edge of the dumpster, I find an empty spot near the back corner that’s a perfect fit for my garbage— my wife.
She will be covered with rubbish from businesses and the locals on the street in a matter of days.
Before too long, her body will be dumped in the city dump along with the rest of the litter in the city.
After I dump my undesirables, I dust off my long coat and dark brown slacks before heading next door for a quick drink. It’s been too long since I’ve seen my favorite bartender.
Thalia is a sight to see through the glass door.
She stands with her back to the bar. Her eyes focus on the large screen of her phone.
I watch her delicate, pale fingers scroll through what I assume is some social network app.
Her black fingernails bring me back to the memory of watching her in her apartment.
What a lovely night that was.
I pull on the black metal handle and quietly walk in.
The bar stool in front of her looks like a good spot to sit. My black coat hangs around its tall wooden back right before I slide into the seat.
“Hello, Listener,” I say in the smooth voice I use specifically for my episodes.
“Holy shit!” Thalia gasps. She turns around with her phone in one hand and the other clutching the loose white fabric of her band tee across her chest. “Alan?!”
“Does anyone else call you that?” I ask, giving her my charming smile. “Are you listening to any other attractive podcast hosts?” I lean in closer and place my hands on the bar in front of me, lowering my tone. “Are you cheating on me and Lee?”
“Of course not.” Her once startled face is now covered with a sneer. Fuck, I love it when she does that. “What can I get you?” I listen to the panic tone leave her voice, and I watch her closely as her shoulders relax. The fear in your voice has a nice ring to it.
“Oh, I don’t know. What was the drink you made me last time?” I move my hand to stroke my chin, all while keeping my eyes focused on hers.
“I think it was an Old Fashioned.” She leans on the bar on her forearms in front of me. “You don’t remember?” Her sweet voice is slow and soft. Of course, I remember. I would remember anything that you did for me.
“That’s right. I’ll take one of those.” Thalia nods and grabs a whiskey glass from under the bar.
“What are you doing out this way? I figured you would be at some sort of corporate office or something. What time is it anyway?” She asks.
Her voice carries over the music in the speakers.
I watch her closely as she adds the large ice cube to the small whiskey glass.
Her hands are so meticulous as she adds the different liquors to the cocktail.
Corporate office or something, how adorable.
“It’s just now six. I just left the office. I thought I would make my day better and see you.” I cross my arms over my chest. She beams while she moves the short glass in front of me.
“Has it gotten any better?” She inquires as she slides the glass in front of me.
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” I answer with my glass up to my lips. The corners of her mouth move up; her grin is all I need to confirm that the trash I threw into the dumpster was a necessary step in the process of winning over my sweet, sweet listener.
“What are you doing after your shift?” I counter while I set the glass back down onto the bar. Her eyes stay on my tongue as I lick the few drops that fall to my bottom lip.
“Going home, watching something on Netflix, and going to sleep with my cat.” I can't look away from the beautiful gaze still on her alluring face.
“Would you like to grab a cup of coffee or something?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.” Her long lashes flutter over her big hazel eyes.
“Yeah? What time do you get off?” I sit up in my seat. Don’t look so fucking desperate, Alan.
“I get off around three A.M. Do you know of any place that serves coffee that late?”
“Thalia, we’re in the city that never sleeps. I’m pretty sure we can find something.” Unconsciously, I cross my arms back over my chest and look at her over the black frames of my glasses.
“Pick me up around three fifteen?”
“Of course. I’ll be here.” I give her one of my smirks, I know she loves, and tip the rest of my drink back before setting it down on the bar. “See you then, Listener.” I stand up from behind my seat, keeping my eyes on her as I grab my jacket and walk out of The Neon Rose.
I watch Alan leave the bar. What the fuck was all of that about?
I gawk in his direction until I can no longer see him in the view of the windows.
Impulsively, I grab his whiskey glass and scrub it free of any of the remaining amber liquid and place it under the bar on the small wooden shelf in front of me.
“You trying to fuck both of them now?!” Jace asks, coming up from behind me.
“No. I don’t know what that was about,” I answer, still looking towards the front doors.
“Uhh huh… well, if you do, will you tell me who is better?” He asks with his hand on his hip.
“Lee looks like he would do a good job, but Alan has this… thing about him that makes him look like he would pay attention to every detail. Like he would make sure he knew exactly what to do simply by doing research or some shit.” He chuckles as if it's something he's been daydreaming about.
“I’m not going to fuck Alan, Jace.” I laugh, shaking my head at the ridiculous thought. The last nights I’ve had with Lee are all that I've been thinking about. I never thought anyone could move that way in a Mustang. Fuck, I’m biting my lip again. Way to be inconspicuous, Thalia.
However, the thought of being with Alan has crossed my mind. No, no. I couldn’t do that.
“Why the fuck not?” Both hands are on his hips now.
“Because Alan and I are just going out for coffee. Maybe talk, like friends do. That’s all Alan and I are. That and I already fucked his best friend. Multiple times. Just think how bad that would look.” I grab the nearest rag and wipe up the spot where Alan had his whiskey glass.
“Who cares how it looks? The guy is sexy as hell, and it’s not like you and Lee are official or whatever the fuck people call it these days.” He leans his elbow on the bar, propping his head up using his hand.
“Well, I don’t know…” My voice quietly trails off.
“What the hell do you mean, you don’t know?”
“He told me that I was his, but didn’t say much after that. I thought it was just something he said in the moment, you know?” I look up at Jace, questioning the whole situation.
“Wait… what the fuck do you mean, he told you that you were his?”
“Just that. He used his sexy deep voice, leaned in and said, ‘You’re perfect and you’re mine.’” I answer, using my best Lee impression.
“Fuck, that’s hot. Damn it, Thalia, why the fuck do you get two sexy as hell men trying to sleep with you?” Jace laughs. “What’s it like living my dream?”
“I didn’t ask for this…” I look up, grinning at my best friend.
“Yeah, bitch, but you aren’t complaining either.” He stands up and walks towards the other end of the bar.
Three A.M. comes faster than I would have expected.
After counting down the drawer and wiping off the tables, it's time for Janice to lock up. Alan will be here in fifteen minutes to escort me to, I assume, a twenty-four-hour diner to get coffee. My stomach growls in anticipation. Okay, maybe I’ll get a cheeseburger and fries too.
I walk into the bathroom in the corner of the bar and look in the small mirror above the white porcelain sink to do my best to prepare.
I smooth out my somewhat wrinkled shirt and run my fingers through my loose waves.
My hands reach into my black purse and fish out my bright red lipstick, touching up the corners of my mouth, spreading out the red paint onto my lips. This will have to do.
“Are you ready for your date with Alan?” Jace asks, meeting me at the bathroom door .
“It’s not a date. Just a cup of coffee between friends,” I reply while walking past him, nudging his arm on the way out.
“Then why did you need to get all sexy in there?”
“I just touched up my makeup. Nothing sexy here.” I gesture to all of me.
“You’re not fooling anyone. You added your ‘fuck me’ red lipstick.” He points to my lips.
“What?! I always wear this lipstick.”
“Yeah, for tips. But now you’re meeting Alan, so… it’s turned into you looking sexy for your date. Which turns into your ‘please fuck me, Alan’ lipstick.” His impression of me is horrible.
“I promise you, Jace, it isn’t a date.” His words echo in my head as I walk towards the front, waiting for Janice to lock up.