Chapter 5 Jon
JON
“Bro, do we need to go ring shopping soon?” Lance, one of the other pediatric medicine residents, says to me as we walk over to Pitcher and Rye, a popular, upscale bar in Paramount.
My chest constricts hearing the topic of getting engaged to Nicolette. “Why would you think that?” I ask nervously, my mouth dry and in desperate need of a drink.
He barks a deep laugh, adjusting his tortoise shell glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“Seriously, dude? She’s practically singing across the maternity ward that you two are moving in together.
That girl was ready to pick out a wedding dress, like yesterday,” he says, clapping me on the back.
“She’s a decent option for a wife. I mean, she’s hot, smart, and she’s nice to everyone,” Lance adds.
“Yea. She’s a good person. It’s just…” I hesitate, looking over my shoulder like Nicolette will jump out from behind one of the apple trees and hear me.
“Just what?”
“I dunno. It just feels like she only wants to be with me because I’m a doctor at Paramount Hospital. Like, I don’t even know if she truly likes me,” I say, feeling self-conscious.
It’s not like I have a ton of dating experience.
I left home when I was young and put myself through college, and then medical school.
I had brief relationships, but nothing serious because I was so focused on school.
When Nicolette approached me in the hospital cafeteria last Spring, I didn’t even realize she was flirting with me until Lance spelled it out for me a week later.
“I mean. Isn’t that why you came here for your residency? You don’t move to Paramount to stay single. With any luck, I’ll find some hot lady and start getting settled into high society in Fructose Hills,” Lance says as we walk into the bar. The music is loud, and it’s already busy.
“Yea. I guess,” I say reluctantly.
Why is everyone so okay with this? Am I that naive?
I moved to Paramount because the professional opportunities are the best here.
The pediatric medicine program is in the top five in the country.
Dr. Nash is one of the most renowned pediatric cardiologists in the world.
She’s an incredible mentor and teacher. I didn’t move here to find a wife.
Maybe I’ve been too focused on school and work that I missed the memo to get the move on with my life.
I get a flash of the next few years of my life, and it’s filled with pretentious parties.
Nicolette’s on my arm, bragging about the work I’m doing in pediatric cardiology, while stroking her pregnant belly.
It’s not that I don’t want a family, and a future.
It just feels so plain, and predictable.
Lance is right, and I just need to lean into this life I’ve been carving out for myself.
It’s the right thing to do, Jon.
After our first round of beer, a young, boisterous group of women comes marching into the bar.
All of them are squealing and laughing. Dressed in bright pink except for the one woman in white, with a sash and a tiara.
Another bachelorette party. We get them a lot down here.
It’s a great party destination with the beach and top restaurants.
The group of ladies rush to the bar to order drinks and as I’m turning back to talk to Lance, my eyes catch on an absolute stunner.
She’s a human shockwave, and she literally steals my breath.
“Whoa. I think she got on the wrong bus,” Lance says, noticing the same woman.
I don’t respond. My mouth is dry for a different reason.
My heart has stopped pumping blood to the rest of my body, channeling it all to one specific organ.
I’ve never seen a woman like her before.
She’s tall and muscular. She could break me in half if she wanted to.
And I wouldn’t mind if she did. Her shiny, ink-colored hair falls past her shoulders, which are showcased in her open-back, black halter dress.
She has this wild femininity to her; her body is like a walking painting, beautiful, bright colors all over her arms and legs.
Her face catches the light and I realize it’s a small piercing above her top lip.
Her full, pouty lips that naturally curve into a smile that screams she’s up to no good.
I catch the glare she directs at the bachelorette party, and finds herself an empty seat at the bar. The ladies in pink, along with the bride, move to the open dance floor, singing along to the obnoxious pop song.
“Well, might as well try meeting my own future Mrs. in that group,” Lance says, downing the rest of his beer.
He shuffles onto the dance floor and is immediately swarmed by three of the ladies in pink.
It doesn’t take much for Lance to attract the opposite sex.
He’s tall, lean, dark-skinned, and then he starts talking with his deep voice, and women practically turn to goo right in front of him.
I’ve never been very outgoing with women; I’ve never made the first move.
So, I guess I should consider myself lucky that Nicolette picked me.
My eyes keep darting over to the tall, tattooed woman at the opposite end of the bar.
She’s surrounded by a bunch of guys. She’s smiling and laughing, dazzling the group with her world-class smile.
She hasn’t looked over at me at all, which has me feeling slightly bitter.
She’s giving those other dudes her attention, but I can see it in her eyes that she’s acting; she’s bored.
I should probably stop staring at her, but she’s so interesting.
Everyone in Paramount is clean-cut and very preppy.
It’s a weird mixture of the Upper East Side, L.A.
, and European gentry. I struggle to fit in, and this mystery woman isn’t even trying to blend in; this woman is so unique.
It’s like looking at a wildflower in a field of perfect, white roses.
She demands attention. And she’s got mine.
And my dick’s. I scold myself for even thinking about another woman in this way.
If Nicolette were here, she’d burn my eyes with a hot poker just for looking.
I keep my attention on my half-full beer and scroll through my phone.
I ignore the way the hottest woman I’ve ever seen dances by herself, shoving away any guy who tries to touch her, but she does it in a way that’s playful and has them eating out of the palms of her hands.
She then climbs up onto the bar and starts shaking and shimmying her hips to the rhythm of the music and I can’t stop my eyes from watching the bottom of her ass cheeks peek out from her short dress.
I could never do anything like that. This woman is lively and spontaneous. Too unpredictable for a guy like me. I’m not available, anyway!
“Hey! Stop! Knock it off!” a woman from the bridal party shrieks, trying to wriggle away from some drunk guy who’s grinding on her.
I can’t hear what he’s saying to her, but he just continues groping her and pushing her towards a dark corner. Before I have a chance to get out of my chair, there’s a loud clang of a stool hitting the floor.
“Get away from her, fucking creep!”
The tall, tattooed, Amazonian has the guy in a headlock as she pulls him off the petite, blonde woman he was dancing with.
“What the? Margeaux, stop!”
“Get this psycho-bitch off me!”
“She said ‘no’, asshole!” The wild woman yells, getting the attention of everyone in the bar. The DJ has even lowered the music.
A large brawl starts to erupt in the middle of the bar. This is Paramount. People don’t get into bar fights. Maybe on the north end in Divine Springs, but not here.
The bartenders and the bouncers at the door yank the woman off the guy. He’s got a bloody nose and a bruise forming under his left eye. She has both arms held back by one of the bouncers as she continues thrashing to get loose.
“For fuck’s sake, Margeaux. It’s called playing hard to get!” The woman in pink shouts.
Hmm. I guess she knows the women in the bachelorette party. Then why wasn’t she hanging out with them?
“No fighting, missy!” the bouncer says to the woman- Margeaux.
“Missy? She’s a fucking dude!” The dude she had in a headlock roars. He looks familiar, but I can’t remember his name right now. “Probably pumping testosterone every day. Aren’t ya, bitch?”
Oh, fuck no. He did not just insult her.
“Fuck you!” she yells back, trying to throw her fist at his face, only for the bouncer to keep her arms back.
“Yea, you wish, you giant bitch!” he keeps running his mouth.
Something inside me snaps- a need to protect, to defend. Nobody sees me coming as I tackle that douchey asshole to the floor.
“Fuck you! You ignorant asshole!” I roar.
“That’s it,” the bouncer starts. “You’re out of here, too!” He grabs me and drags me out of the bar. The tall, wild woman- Margeaux, is being dragged out with me.
“You can’t be serious?!” she argues. Damn, she has so much rage, it’s bleeding into me. I’ve never been in a fight, and in the span of an hour, this woman has ignored me, turned me on, and got me to tackle a guy to defend her honor. What the fuck has come over me?
The mood shift in the bar is palpable, and the bride-to-be, and the girl making out with Lance follow the bouncer.
I’m already being shoved out the door, and I don’t fight back.
I quickly check my hands to make sure I didn’t bruise, or fracture anything.
I walk a few paces away, letting the bouncer know I’m not going to be any trouble.
The next bouncer brings out the group of women who are yelling at my new fighting partner.
“Jesus fuck, Margeaux! I knew you would do something to ruin my weekend!” the bride-to-be shouts, tears forming in her eyes. “Why are you even here?! Haley said you told us to fuck off!”
“Fuck you, Zoey!” Margeaux yells, now making a scene outside. I stay close, but out of eyesight so it doesn’t look like I’m lurking.
“Of course she did! I warned you about this earlier, Margeaux. You just have to steal the spotlight. You can’t let anybody have attention except for you. And now, you ruined this entire night for Zoey,” one of the bridesmaids, and Lance’s make-out partner, says angrily.
“I can’t believe you two. That guy was literally dry humping Colleen, and she was saying no!” Margeaux says, defending her actions. That guy was definitely crossing a line from where I was sitting. Brice Strickland! That’s his name! Yea, dude is a known trust fund douchebag.
“God. You’re absolutely clueless, Margeaux. Colleen was fine. We’re all fine. Stop acting like you were doing anything helpful just now. Just go back to the rental. We’ll see you later,” the bride, Zoey, demands.
“Whatever. Fuck all of you,” Margeaux says as she turns and stomps away.
It’s only now that I can get a closer look at her body in her dress, and how it shows off her strong legs and the twisted tattoo of plants and vines on her right leg.
She notices me out of the corner of her eye, and now I’m on the receiving end of her rage-fueled glower.
“And what the fuck are you looking at, short guy?”
Ouch. That hurt.
“N-nothing. Sorry. I was just trying to help,” I say, but she’s already storming away.
The bachelorette party girls all congregate outside and give each other a pep talk, deciding not to let their night be ruined. They chant the name of the next bar they’re going to, and their squealing laughter retreats in the opposite direction of Margeaux.
A heavy hand on my shoulder pulls my attention away from her ass as she crosses the street. “Well, my mood is killed. What was up with you taking that guy out?” Lance asks.
“What? Oh, nothing. Just didn’t like the way he was talking to those women. Think I maybe had one too many drinks,” I say.
“I’d say. Never seen you act so aggressive. Super out of character for you, bro.”
“Yea. I think I’ve seen enough tonight,” I agree. “I’m just gonna head home.”
I glance down the street once more, hoping to see that loud and colorful woman one more time. She’s already gone.