Chapter Twenty-Four
Cam
I sensed her silent protests as she imagined having to put on a dress, bra, makeup, nice shoes… I stopped her with a gesture.
“No fancy stuck-up restaurant. How about some burgers and fries, or maybe hot wings, and a drink? We’ll find a dive where the food is simple and delicious, and we can go in our sweat pants and no one will notice.”
Her eyes sparkled. “I know the perfect place.” Then she stopped dead in front of the massive sex swing box. “What do I do with this?”
“We’ll deal with it tomorrow. Let’s shove it into the corner for now.”
We wrestled the box next to the wall, her small pantry now completely obscured by the athletic swingers.
Neither of us had the energy to face this tonight.
I was actually excited about going out. I would have the chance to be close to casual Sue, and she could see me as just a normal guy, not the CEO who can afford to spend the price of a small car on a fake engagement ring. This was going to be interesting.
She glanced down at her jeans and t-shirt. “Good enough.”
She grabbed a jacket and slipped her feet into thick, leather sports shoes. They weren’t pretty, but I bet they kept her feet warm.
I went next door to change out of my office clothes. In two minutes I felt more like myself in jeans, a black sweater, and my favorite leather jacket.
I followed Sue down the stairs, and we hopped into the Uber she’d ordered.
“So, where are we headed?” I asked.
I wasn’t comfortable trying out new things because they meant getting into situations I couldn’t control, but I was feeling reckless tonight. I was actually excited. I would go anywhere with her.
She grinned. “There’s this hole-in-the-wall spot on West 44th called The Drunken Rat. It’s nothing fancy—dim lighting, good beer, and a kitchen that somehow churns out the best greasy burgers in the city. I think you’ll love it.”
I cocked my head, intrigued. “The Drunken Rat? Sounds sketchy. Is that where you take all your fiancés for a romantic rodent-themed evening?”
“Only the ones with a sense of adventure.”
The Uber driver chuckled softly in the front seat, clearly listening in. “The Drunken Rat, huh?” He glanced at me in the rearview mirror. “Good choice. That’s where I met my wife.”
Sue nudged me playfully in the ribs. “See? It’s a lucky spot.”
“Well, if you go by the Chinese Zodiac, I was born in the Year of the Rat. Supposedly that makes me lucky. How’d you find this place?”
“Jesse took me there a few years ago. She was dating a guy who worked in the kitchen. He didn’t last, but my love for The Rat did. It’s one of those places you can just sink into—great burgers, cheap beer, no dress code. Therapy on a tray.”
“Sounds like fun—so long as actual rats are not on the menu.”
“I can almost guarantee it.”
The sign above the door featured a cartoon rat—eyes half-lidded, tongue lolling out, and one paw clinging to a bottle of something suspiciously brown.
He wore a crooked crown made of French fries, and a slice of melted cheese draped over one shoulder.
Behind him, neon letters spelled out The Drunken Rat in a wobbling font that looked like it had been drawn by someone three drinks in. The rat winked as the sign flickered.
I held the door open for Sue, and the warm sound of laughter and clinking glasses poured out to greet us.
Inside, the place was exactly as I’d imagined it: cozy and dimly lit, with battered wooden tables, a stage tucked into one corner, and walls plastered with faded posters of rock bands from the ’80s and ’90s.
A chalkboard above the bar listed the night’s specials, including “Trash Can Nachos” and “The Juicy Bastard.” The scent of sizzling beef and fried onions wrapped around us.
We picked a table and sat. I scanned the room, my mood upbeat and my stomach growling. “This place has character. Feels like the kind of spot where indie writers come to craft their novels.”
“It would be the perfect backdrop for my life story.”
I chuckled, reaching for one of the laminated menus. “What genre would it be?”
“My life story? Definitely a rom-com.”
“That bad?”
She smirked. “You’re kidding, right? A fake fiancé, a family that belongs in a soap opera, neighbors who’d thrive in a circus, unsolicited sex calls, and a BDSM swing that almost broke my pantry? And this is just in the past week!”
I had to laugh at the imagery. “I really can’t argue with that line-up.”
A waitress in ripped jeans and a Metallica T-shirt appeared, her pen poised over a crumpled notepad. “What’ll it be?”
Sue glanced at me.
I shrugged. “The lady brought me here, the lady will feed me.”
Sue turned to the waitress. “Two Juicy Bastards and fries. And two beers.”
She gave a quick nod and disappeared toward the bar.
I leaned back in my surprisingly comfortable chair. “You know the menu by heart?”
“You don’t come here for options. You come here for the burger. It’s legendary, trust me.”
When the waitress returned, she placed two dripping, glistening burgers in front of us, piled high with caramelized onions, gooey cheddar, and a toasted brioche bun. The fries came in little baskets, dusted with paprika and just greasy enough to require napkins on standby.
My mouth watered as I pulled my tray closer. “You weren’t kidding. This looks incredible.”
Sue watched me as I took my first bite. It was sautéed bliss! The bun melted in my mouth, so soft I didn’t even have to chew it. The meat was done to absolute perfection. The cheese was creamy, the onion was crunchy, the sauce had just enough kick to caress my taste buds into ecstasy.
“Oh my God,” I said, muffled by food. “This is ridiculous. How does a dive bar make a burger this good?”
She grinned. “Lots of butter.”
We clinked our beer glasses and dug in, the combination of greasy food and cold beer making everything feel a little less complicated.
“Watching a fellow gourmand eat is a delightful experience,” I said, admiring Sue’s appreciation for the delicious food.
She smiled around a mouthful. “I’m always squeamish about eating on dates.”
She sucked a drop of sauce off her knuckle. My mind short-circuited. I imagined her sucking on my knuckle. Or some other part of me.
“Why’s that?” I asked to distract myself.
“Well, take burgers, for instance. They’re messy as hell.” She was struggling to keep hers from dripping all over her hand. “One wrong move and you’re wearing half of it. It’s really hard to eat one like a lady.”
I was amused. “They’re supposed to be messy. That’s the best part.”
She took another bite, this time abandoning the dainty, proper nibbles she had been struggling with.
I watched, my gut tightening in appreciation. I wanted to please this woman in every way possible, and feeding her was a satisfying start.
“Now that’s what I like to see. A woman unafraid to devour her food.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Devour? I’m eating, not taking down prey.”
“Same thing. Besides, I think it’s sexy.”
“Me, eating a burger, covered in sauce? That’s sexy to you?”
I leaned in slightly, my voice dropping lower. “Yeah. Watching a woman actually enjoy her food instead of picking at a salad like a tortured Victorian ghost is sexy to me.”
She chewed, considering. “So if I get barbecue sauce all over my chin and let grease run down my fingers, you’re still into it?”
My eyes dropped to her mouth, her lips full and shiny. Kissable. Devourable.
“Depends.” My voice was a bit more than a growl. “Would I get to clean it up?”
A rush of pink spread to her cheeks, and I wondered if she could read my thoughts. Was it the beer that was doing the flirting? I took another swig of mine to make sure it didn’t stop.
“You’d want to clean it up?” she asked, licking beer foam off her upper lip.
“Oh yeah.”
“Then I might get really dirty tonight.”
“I’m up for anything.”
I reached for a fry and dipped it in ketchup, in slow, tight circles as I watched her. Her eyes sparkled with more than just the light reflections from the stage and the old-fashioned disco ball hanging from the ceiling.
She gulped, looking mesmerized. “I’m starting to think you could make anything look suggestive.”
“Only when I want to.” I leaned back in my chair, giving her a smug grin. “Come on, admit it. This is the best date you’ve ever had.”
“It’s definitely the messiest.”
I raised my beer in a mock toast. “To messy dates.”
She clinked her glass against mine. “To men who like it saucy.”
Yeah, this was definitely flirting. Sue was playing with fire, but I wasn’t sure she knew what she was doing to me. I had to let her set the pace tonight. And hope she and I wanted the same thing—not a fake relationship. Nothing of what I felt for her was fake.
On stage, a scruffy guy with an acoustic guitar launched into a soulful cover of “Livin’ on a Prayer.” Sue bobbed her head with the beat, humming along.
“Are you a Bon Jovi fan?” I asked.
“Who isn’t? It’s practically a citizenship requirement for New Yorkers.”
“I’ll have to keep that in mind. Although my karaoke skills are more ‘Sweet Caroline’ than Bon Jovi.”
She leaned forward. “Really? That would be an interesting experience.”
“Not with me sober.” I shook my head, grinning. “Speaking of which, what’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done in a bar?”
She exhaled dramatically. “Oh, so many choices. But okay, here’s a top contender. Jesse and I were at this dive in Queens a few years ago. We’d had just enough tequila to make bad decisions seem like excellent ones.”
I made myself more comfortable in my seat. “That’s a promising start.”
“You have no idea. So, there was this huge bachelorette party happening across the bar, and somehow—I still don’t know how—I got swept up in it.”
“You joined a random bachelorette party?”
“Fully joined. I ended up in the bride’s professional photos. Front and center. But that’s not the worst part. See, they had one of those scavenger hunt lists, and Jesse dared me to complete one of the challenges.”
“What was it?”
She sighed, then looked me dead in the eye. “Lick a bald man’s head for ten seconds.”
I burst into laughter, holding my full stomach with both hands. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did. And not just any bald man. The one guy in the bar who looked like he could bench-press a truck and had probably killed someone with his bare hands.”
“That lucky bastard. Did you have to sneak up on him?”
“No, because tequila makes me charming. I went straight to him and explained the challenge. He was actually delighted.”
“I’ll bet.”
“He even tipped his head forward to help me out,” she giggled, her face getting red at the memory.
“What did Jesse do?”
“Cackled like a witch and took photos. And then…” She paused for effect. “His wife walked in.”
I wiped a hand down my face. “God, no.”
“Yep.” She buried her face in her hands. “Turns out, she was not part of the bachelorette party and did not think it was funny.”
“I can fully understand that. What did you do?”
“I freaked out and ran, except I was in heels, so I tripped over a barstool and went down, taking a whole table of desserts with me. And while I was on the floor, dying of shame, the bald guy—who was still laughing by the way—bought me a drink.”
I leaned back in my chair to give my sore stomach muscles a rest. “I would have paid to see that.”
“My dignity never recovered.” She shook her head. “Now it’s your turn. I want to hear your most embarrassing bar story.”
I scratched the back of my neck, digging through my memories.
This had to be funny, but not too embarrassing.
“Well, this is not as bad as yours, but it’s decent.
A few years ago, I was at this place in Denver for a friend’s birthday.
There was a mechanical bull, and everyone was taking turns trying to ride it.
I decided I could do better than the ten seconds everyone else was managing. As it turns out, I could not.”
Sue was already laughing. “What happened?”
“I got thrown off in about three seconds flat. And then, to add insult to injury, the bull’s controls glitched and it started spinning like crazy. I was flat on my back, watching it go berserk, while everyone else was crying from laughter.”
She clutched her stomach, trying to breathe. “Please tell me there’s video of this.”
I grimaced. “Unfortunately, there is. And my so-called friends have it saved on every cloud service imaginable. I told you, this is what guys do.”
Sue raised her beer, laughing. “To friends and tequila.”
I mirrored her gesture. “I’ll drink to that.”
She took a slow sip of beer, her smile softening. “So, how exactly did you get from that to running your own tech empire?”
I smiled, chagrined. So much for forgetting my fortune.
“It’s not an empire. This was always my dream. I think education is the key to happiness, to a better world. You of all people understand that.”
She gave me a silent toast, eyes fixed on me with that quiet, focused kind of interest that made you want to keep talking.
So I did. “My parents weren’t rich, and raising three kids is not cheap, so when I was a kid they couldn’t fulfill all my wishes.
I wanted lots of books they couldn’t buy, so I spent a lot of my days in the public library.
An institution I am most grateful for. I taught myself how to use a computer from books, way before I had access to a real computer.
And when I discovered internet cafés... It was the happiest day of my life. ”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I didn’t get my own computer until I was sixteen. Built it from scrap parts I begged off a repair guy who took pity on me.” I smiled fondly at that memory. “I guess that’s where it started. I wanted to make information accessible—level the field, you know?”
Her smile deepened, but her voice stayed light. “That’s ridiculously noble. So what you’re doing now—Omega, the education software... It’s not just about profit?”
“Not really. We do license stuff, obviously. I’m not a saint.
But the real goal is to educate people. And to reach the kids who don’t have resources, who think they’re stupid or stuck just because no one’s ever shown them what’s possible.
I genuinely believe that smarter people are kinder people.
And kinder people make the world a better place. ”
She didn’t say anything right away, just looked at me in that way she sometimes did—like she was trying to solve a puzzle without quite wanting the answer.
“Thank you for telling me that,” she said at last, her voice soft. “I don’t think most people realize how rare that kind of drive is.”
I shrugged, suddenly feeling self-conscious. I hadn’t told her all that to play some sort of hero. I didn’t like the spotlight.
“I didn’t do anything special,” I said. “I just didn’t want to end up stuck, like a lot of people I grew up with.”
She smiled softly. “I bet those people need a telescope to see you now.”