Chapter 44
KC
Mathew texted me the morning after we were supposed to see a movie, letting me know he’d be out of town for work and couldn’t tell me for how long.
After that, his texts have been short and scarce.
I was secretly thankful Mathew had to cut that night short.
I didn’t want to be on a quadruple date seeing a movie with Jared, Beau, and whatever bimbos they’d bring along.
Skyler and Brittney cut our dinner short and took me home before spending the evening together.
Jared and Beau stayed behind at DeLuca’s.
I was able to log on to TEASE and post a saved photo.
Incognito had sent multiple messages. I finally decided to click on the latest message; he asked for me to sell him my dirty underwear.
Like, what the fuck? I replied no, in a sweet manner, of course.
Glasses are clinking together, customers are laughing amongst their friends, while “Taste” by Tyga is streaming through the speakers.
None of it is enough to make my thoughts steer away from a certain emerald green-eyed Greek god…
even though I haven’t seen him since our forced impromptu dinner date with him and Beau.
What luck was that?! I honestly can’t tell if Jared is trying to make me go crazy or if he’s flipping clueless.
Having him around for the next six months will be suffocating enough without him just popping up in my life randomly.
I try to busy myself by grabbing a thin bar towel and start drying the glasses behind the bar that have been rinsed.
My mind starts racing with uncontrollable thoughts.
Yes, it’s been five years since Jared’s lips have been on mine…
Yes, I’m the one who left him… Yep, his brother is still the one who killed my sister… Gahhhh.
Huffing out an annoyed breath, I shuffle my feet back and forth, throwing the bar towel onto the bartop, and lean my hip against the counter.
But… did I even think once about Joey when Jared stepped into that cage for his fight, literally taking my breath away?
Or when he was here at this bar? Did him being the brother of a murderer come to mind when Jared’s eyes locked onto mine during dinner? No… It… Didn’t…
And that fucking terrifies me.
It’s a Thursday night, ladies’ night at The Purple Room. I need to get out of my head and be prepared for the busy night ahead of me. I stand up straighter and shake my head, attempting to free myself from those memories of Jared. Fuck, what is wrong with you, Kailey?!
Just as I lean down to put away the clean glasses, Shelah slaps her small purse on the bartop. “Some asshat—a new employee—walked in today and mentioned how it’d been a quiet afternoon...”
I grimace at her statement. Oh boy, I know where this is going. From my clinic time in the emergency department, there was a known golden rule: you never say quiet or slow in regard to the flow of the day.
Shelah’s beautiful round face is flushed.
Hair once styled for her shift, now frayed around the scalp where sweat had taken its toll.
She’s rocking a solid black tank top, with black scrub joggers and hot pink tennis shoes.
Making eye contact with her, my hands go to making her signature drink, an espresso martini. “How bad did it get?”
Resting her elbows on the bartop, her tone vicious, she fumes, “Girl, let me just say this… It never stopped after that idiotic statement of his. The floodgates had been opened.”
I give her a soft smile and place the fresh, strong alcoholic beverage in front of her.
This right here, Shelah, is the perfect distraction for me.
I need it. Her stories always take my mind elsewhere.
I’ve missed her. Shelah had taken some time off to spend with her grandchildren.
Judging by her appearance, this might have been her first shift back in the grind.
My full attention is on her while she downs the drink in one go. I can’t help but chuckle as she swallows the last drop. My gaze skims the bar; it’s filling up. Almost all of the customers are ladies. I love this scene. I think that’s why I continue to work here—the interactions and connections.
“Wow, yes. That’s the start I needed.” Shelah wipes her lips and holds her empty glass up to me. “Another one, please, pretty lady.”
My eyebrows raise at her. “Ohhhh, is it gonna be a me-driving-you-home kind of night?”
Shelah throws her hands up. “Maybe… I already miss my family. They had to leave yesterday and head back to their lives. And the fuck-face new employee that I had to deal with today was the cherry on top.”
After I slide her the new martini, I start to fill a shot glass for each of us—tequila. Finishing the shots with salt around the rim and a slice of lime, I hand one to her. I grab my shot glass and raise it to hers. “To your friendship always being a light when my life is a dark tunnel.”
She grabs my shoulder and clinks our glasses together. We set them back down on the bartop, lick the salt, take the shot, and bite the lime.
“Mmm, tasty,” I whisper.
Shelah’s eyes have glossed over. “KC, you mean a lot to me too. I hope you know that.” She squeezes my hand before letting it go. “How are things with you? Still seeing that hunk of a man Mathew?” She shimmies her shoulders back and forth. “He’s a stallion in the sheets, isn’t he?!”
I spot Taylor, another bartender, next to me and inform her I’m taking a short break.
Turning back toward Shelah, I hold my finger up to her.
“Before we get started on all of my issues,” I scrunch my face at her, “I’m gonna need some funny stories from your shift today.
” Walking around the bar, I sit in the high-top chair next to her and bump my shoulder into hers.
Leaning my head on to her bare shoulder, I mutter, “Give it to me.”
She twirls the stick from her martini glass and her words are low.
“Whew, where to start…” Stopping abruptly, her hand goes to cover her lips.
“Actually, we did have a gentleman come into the ER this evening…” A wicked grin takes over her face.
“He passed out with a titanium cock ring on. His partner brought him in for excruciating pain.”
I pull my face away from her shoulder. “Wait a minute, he used it and just forgot to take it off?!” My jaw drops, and I wait for her to continue.
“Yep! Of course, there were drugs involved. By the time he came to, his dick was too swollen for either one of them to take it off. And by the time he hobbled into the ER, his shaft was black. Diagnosis: Penile strangulation.”
Fully invested in this story, my eyes go big and I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “What in the world?! They can save his—Right?!”
Shelah’s eyes go to her drink and she shakes her head softly.
“Nope, I mean, most likely not. We flew him out pretty quickly so he could get the appropriate care. He was going to have immediate surgery to remove it, is my guess.” Her body physically shudders as if she remembers the condition of his dick.
“I’ve never been with a partner who used one of those, but I can’t imagine using something for fun and it ending his manhood!”
“Right? And it just so happens that was the first patient that checked in after dumb-nuts made his statement…”
Shelah takes a healthy sip of her drink. “Actually… we also had some foreign objects in rectums today.” She laughs, causing that sip to go down the wrong tube, making her have a small coughing fit.
I pat her back lightly and wiggle my finger at her. “Nuh-uh, no ma’am. Can’t just say that and not go into details.” I pat her back a little harder. “Cough it out, then continue, please.” It still amazes me that the emergency departments get that many patients who shove stuff up their… goods.
Waving off my hand, she looks around the room before continuing. “One was a full-size russet potato!”
“Huh? Why would someone shove a potato up their own ass?”
“Ah, glad you asked. This male was in his seventies, and it was his wife who did it! Told me they were into ‘that kind of thing,’ but it just wouldn’t come back out this time.” Her small hands go to cover her lips as she silently laughs into them.
“Okay, so this was an elderly married couple… who came to your ER and just expected you to be able to pull out this piece of food?!”
She just nods her head while taking another sip of her martini. I take note that Shelah is drinking this one much slower than the last. Ha! I made it stronger on purpose.
“Unfortunately, we couldn’t. I had to call the on-call surgery team. After the procedure was done, the team called back to update me.” Shelah looks me directly in the eyes. “It was pure mush when they pulled it out.”
A soft gasp escapes from my mouth. “His asshole made mashed potatoes?!”
Shelah and I burst into a fit of giggles, fresh tears lining our eyes. I lean my body over the bartop and grab us some napkins, handing one to her.
“Holy shit, I didn’t realize I needed that laugh, KC.
Thank you, pretty lady.” Her arms shoot out from her sides to embrace me.
I hug her back tighter. Apples and cinnamon invade my nose as I inhale her hair.
Shelah’s presence at this bar has always brought me a sense of calmness, being that motherly figure for me in Chicago.
We really should hang out outside this darkly lit bar sometime.
Shelah’s warm palm rests against my cheek. “Are you ready to tell me what’s been troubling you?” Shaking my head, I try to turn away from her. “Don’t do that, KC.” Worried chocolate brown eyes are staring at me.
An uneasy smile fills my face. “Eh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”
“Girl, you think I don’t know that? You are strong and powerful.
You can handle many things. But it doesn’t mean you have to be alone while doing it.
You listen to me, week after week. Please share your thoughts with me.
I’ll always be a sounding board for you.
” Her tone is sincere as she reaches for my hand. “KC...”
I hang my head low, accepting defeat, knowing that I need to get these thoughts out, and Shelah is someone I trust. One who’s also an outside source, who can give it to me straight. “Okay,” I whisper softly.
Patting my cheeks with my hands, I psych myself back up and into go mode. “But first, I need to make my rounds here and check on the staff.”
“Sounds good. I mean, you’re my ride home tonight. I’ve got all the time in the world.” She shoos her hand at me. “Go do your thing; you know where I’ll be.”
Val, another bartender, takes Shelah’s empty glass, replacing it with a full one. I squeeze Shelah’s shoulder and lean down to whisper in her ear. “Thank you; you’re the best.”
“Oh, I know it, and don’t you forget it.” Her laugh follows me as I make my way around The Purple Room. Ladies are occupying the lit-up dance floor, singing along to “Beautiful Girls” by Sean Kingston.
When I walk back to the bar, an uneasy feeling spreads across my skin, slimy.
A dull ringing sound fills my ears, and it stops me in my tracks.
I look all around and take in my surroundings to see if someone’s staring at me.
This place is overflowing now, bodies are touching, voices are loud, drinks are flowing, but nothing and nobody is standing out to me.