Maggie's Five ...the first in a LOVE story by Sandra Fitzgerald Page A

best friend sweetheart. What you up to?”
    “ I
was going to ask you the very same thing Red.” I’m slurring as I
speak, but I don’t care.
    “ I’m
working at the bar for another couple hours. Why don’t you swing by
so we can pick up where we left off?”
    I look down at
my clothes and wipe a hand down my front. The wrinkles aren’t that
bad. “Sounds like a plan. Give me thirty?”
    “ I’ll
give you as long as you need, sweetheart,” Red says oozing sex
before hanging up on me.
    God, did he miss
his calling as a voice over guy. Hell I’d buy whatever he’s
selling.
    Tossing the
phone to the counter, I down three more shots then run/stumble
upstairs, holding onto the banister for balance, then trip my way
to the bathroom. I run my fingers through my hair and apply more
makeup, adding extra to cover my freckles and blacken my lashes
until my green eyes pop.
    I cab it to The
Pub Bar, getting there a little over an hour late, and take a seat
at the bar waiting to see if Red will recognise me. Seconds later I
start to panic. What if he doesn’t? What if I’m about to make
another colossal arse of myself?
    “ Hey
there sweetheart, glad you could make it,” Red purrs, passing me a
glass of wine and holding up a shot glass. Smiling in relief, I go
to take it from him but he moves it out of my reach smirking. “You
look beautiful, Maggie.”
    “ Thank you,” I reply, glad that he remembers me, becoming
increasingly self-conscious under his intense inspection. He makes
me feel naked and vulnerable. It’s incredibly unnerving and I start
to think I’ve made a mistake in coming here.
    He holds the
shot glass to my mouth and pinches down the corners of his full
lips, holding back a smile.
    “ Remember what to do sweetheart?” Red asks just as he tips the
glass so the liquid pours past my parted lips and burns its way
down my throat. He bites into a lemon wedge, piercing the flesh and
allowing some juice to dribble down his chin. He takes it in his
fingers and glides it over my mouth before sliding it between my
teeth, clenching his jaw as I bite down and gently suck, swallowing
the tang.
    “ Fuck
that’s hot,” he breathes watching my mouth as I lick my lips. “I’ve
got about forty minutes left on my shift but I’ll try to cut early,
kay?” He rests his elbows on the bar and leans in close. I pick up
my wine and smile in reply, taking a decent sip while he’s still
watching.
    “ I’m
definitely cutting out early.”
    Twenty minutes
and two glasses of wine later, Red has his hand resting on my
waist, leading me out the front door of the bar. I’m well and truly
pickled, so it doesn’t occur to me to care about where his hands
are. He told me of another bar a few blocks over that has a live
band playing. He doesn’t work there, so it sits better with him.
I’m feeling so darn good we could prop down on the curb and it
would be fine with me.
    “ So,
no boyfriend tonight?” Red asks, pulling a smoke out of his pocket
while we walk the few blocks to the other pub. His question
confuses my already muddled brain.
    “ I
don’t have a boyfriend.”
    He lights up
before saying anything else. Drawing in a few short inhales of his
cigarette, Red holds the smoke in his lungs for as long as he can,
then exhales. The expelled smoke drifts my way, only it doesn’t
smell like any cigarette I’ve smelt before. Red offers it to me. I
shake my head in decline.
    “ No
husband either? Or yes to husband but looking for a bit on the
side?” This comment stops me in my tracks. “What, sweetheart?” Red
asks, stepping back to me, blowing smoke into my face before
lifting up my hand to show me my wedding and engagement rings.
“You’re not the first married woman to want to hook up with me,” he
says matter-a-fact with a shrug, like it’s no big deal.
    “ Just
so you know Red, I would never in a million years cheat on my
husband, if I still had one.”
    Implying the
loss of Brendan sends my stomach