CHAPTER ONE
The half-filled parking lot at the pub on a
Saturday night meant fewer free drinks and more time alone.
Damn.
Jess sauntered up to the nearly empty bar.
High heels tapping the wood floor and skintight jeans that showed
every one of her curves announced her availability. “Two whiskey
shots, Adam.”
The handsomest man in the place replied to
her order with narrowed dark brown eyes and a frown. “Not tonight,
Jess.”
“I’m a paying customer. I want my
drinks.”
“You’re in pain. I understand, but drinking
yourself into oblivion every weekend isn’t gonna fix a broken
heart.”
“If I was a man, you’d offer me a whiskey on
the house and point me in the direction of the easiest woman in the
place.” Jess leaned over the bar and provided Adam with the most
menacing look she had. She looked pretty darn mean if the mirror
behind him was accurate, but he just smiled.
“Most everyone’s watching the fireworks in
North Bay, so your chance at scoring a few drinks is limited,
unless you’ve lowered your standards to include Jimmy, Joe, and Old
Len over there.” He pointed to the three old men in the corner
sipping their usual ginger ale tinged with a teaspoon of rum for
flavor.
“They’re not the only men in this place.”
Switching her expression from badass to seductress by the lift of
her eyebrows, she purred. “Too bad I couldn’t convince you to focus
on someone other than your wife.”
He poured two shots and slid them in front of
her. “No thanks. The thought of Lily pointing a gun at my balls
keeps me in line.”
He had a point. His wife would kill him if he
ever cheated on her. Not that he ever would. Lily was tall, blonde,
and built like a World War II pinup girl. The kind of woman a man
wanted around.
Jess picked up one of the shots and tossed it
down her throat. The burn trailed past a heart that had long since
gone cold. She’d need the second shot to increase her
confidence.
A little company for the next few hours
combined with the alcohol would help erase memories of the future
denied her and allow her to crawl back to the apartment she’d lived
in for ten long years to wait for her new life to begin. Until she
could finish her teaching degree and find a job somewhere else,
she’d have to be content with hovering in place. It felt like she’d
been hovering her whole life. The men she met at the bar helped her
escape lonely nights and provided her enough free alcohol to
anesthetize her heartbreak.
Men bought drinks for women who paid enough
attention to them. And Jess knew exactly how much attention to
provide. She played a mean game of pool, could debate hockey stats
with any man in a fifty-town radius, and allowed a certain leniency
on the dance floor. She didn’t offer anything else, and the men
rarely complained. No expectations, no heartbreak.
A few men propositioned her for more intimate
things, but never for a real date. Jess wasn’t the marrying type.
Robert— may he not rest in peace —had made
sure to brand that into her soul through his actions and
inactions.
She walked over to the jukebox and stared at
the two hundred songs available. Nothing matched her current mood.
Part of her wanted to become drunk and lost in a stranger’s arms,
but another part of her wanted to go home. She punched in
Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog.” Several of the customers moaned as
the song blasted across the room. She didn’t care. The music would
help block out the jerk’s memory.
She returned to the bar. A third shot sat
next to the two she’d purchased. Although a sliver of her
conscience begged her to ignore it, the other darker part took up
the challenge.
“For me?” she called out to Adam.
“From one of your fans.”
The pub wasn’t full, but several of the
booths had men sitting in them. She discounted any table with a
woman. Men were oblivious at times but generally not suicidal. Two
men in dark business suits sat in a booth near the back of
The half-filled parking lot at the pub on a
Saturday night meant fewer free drinks and more time alone.
Damn.
Jess sauntered up to the nearly empty bar.
High heels tapping the wood floor and skintight jeans that showed
every one of her curves announced her availability. “Two whiskey
shots, Adam.”
The handsomest man in the place replied to
her order with narrowed dark brown eyes and a frown. “Not tonight,
Jess.”
“I’m a paying customer. I want my
drinks.”
“You’re in pain. I understand, but drinking
yourself into oblivion every weekend isn’t gonna fix a broken
heart.”
“If I was a man, you’d offer me a whiskey on
the house and point me in the direction of the easiest woman in the
place.” Jess leaned over the bar and provided Adam with the most
menacing look she had. She looked pretty darn mean if the mirror
behind him was accurate, but he just smiled.
“Most everyone’s watching the fireworks in
North Bay, so your chance at scoring a few drinks is limited,
unless you’ve lowered your standards to include Jimmy, Joe, and Old
Len over there.” He pointed to the three old men in the corner
sipping their usual ginger ale tinged with a teaspoon of rum for
flavor.
“They’re not the only men in this place.”
Switching her expression from badass to seductress by the lift of
her eyebrows, she purred. “Too bad I couldn’t convince you to focus
on someone other than your wife.”
He poured two shots and slid them in front of
her. “No thanks. The thought of Lily pointing a gun at my balls
keeps me in line.”
He had a point. His wife would kill him if he
ever cheated on her. Not that he ever would. Lily was tall, blonde,
and built like a World War II pinup girl. The kind of woman a man
wanted around.
Jess picked up one of the shots and tossed it
down her throat. The burn trailed past a heart that had long since
gone cold. She’d need the second shot to increase her
confidence.
A little company for the next few hours
combined with the alcohol would help erase memories of the future
denied her and allow her to crawl back to the apartment she’d lived
in for ten long years to wait for her new life to begin. Until she
could finish her teaching degree and find a job somewhere else,
she’d have to be content with hovering in place. It felt like she’d
been hovering her whole life. The men she met at the bar helped her
escape lonely nights and provided her enough free alcohol to
anesthetize her heartbreak.
Men bought drinks for women who paid enough
attention to them. And Jess knew exactly how much attention to
provide. She played a mean game of pool, could debate hockey stats
with any man in a fifty-town radius, and allowed a certain leniency
on the dance floor. She didn’t offer anything else, and the men
rarely complained. No expectations, no heartbreak.
A few men propositioned her for more intimate
things, but never for a real date. Jess wasn’t the marrying type.
Robert— may he not rest in peace —had made
sure to brand that into her soul through his actions and
inactions.
She walked over to the jukebox and stared at
the two hundred songs available. Nothing matched her current mood.
Part of her wanted to become drunk and lost in a stranger’s arms,
but another part of her wanted to go home. She punched in
Nazareth’s “Hair of the Dog.” Several of the customers moaned as
the song blasted across the room. She didn’t care. The music would
help block out the jerk’s memory.
She returned to the bar. A third shot sat
next to the two she’d purchased. Although a sliver of her
conscience begged her to ignore it, the other darker part took up
the challenge.
“For me?” she called out to Adam.
“From one of your fans.”
The pub wasn’t full, but several of the
booths had men sitting in them. She discounted any table with a
woman. Men were oblivious at times but generally not suicidal. Two
men in dark business suits sat in a booth near the back of
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