“Bye.”
I dive into work, only going home after the lights in the club turn off and the music quiets. Nothing like a little Archer induced motivation to get my ass in gear. One more night and I’ll be completely caught up and ready to introduce him to my world.
Hope he’s ready.
Archer
When I say I only have band tees, jeans, and rubber overalls in my closet, I mean it. So when I wake up on Thursday, I go to town in an attempt to find something more stylish for a club. I’ve never actually been to a club. I spent my teen years taking care of my sister, and my twenties and thirties in remote Alaskan villages where their idea of a fun weekend was assembly line preparing muktuk to store for winter months when fresh food was harder to come by.
Sara informed me the only clothing shop around here is Belle’s Boutique. The name alone tells me I can’t expect too much. Still, I’m not prepared when I walk in the door. Sequins and sparkles in all colors assault my eyes. Dresses and pant suits hang from every surface. This was a mistake. I turn around to walk out, prepared to resort to wearing jeans and a tee tonight.
“Yoo-hoo,” a high-pitched trill calls out to me. I flip back around to see a large and colorful woman walking right for me. She’s wearing a glittery baby blue pant suit. She doesn’t have a shirt on underneath the buttoned-up blazer, so her massive tits are on full display and bounce with each step she takes. It’s a lot to ask of the buttons holding those things in. “Oh my. You’re a tall drink of water.”
“Oh, hi. I’m sorry. I think I’m in the wrong place.”
“What were you looking for? A sixty-year-old woman who’s in her sexual prime?”
I choke on my own spit. “Men’s clothing.”
“That’s too bad, but you’re still in the right place. We have a whole section in the back just for men.” She points in the direction. I can faintly see some clothing with more muted colors. “I’m Belle. This is my shop. Follow me, I’ll show you around.”
I follow Belle through racks of clothes that I think would fit in more if we were in Texas. Definitely not a sleepy town in Maine that has an overwhelming amount of gay men.
“How’s this?” Belle motions to a small section of closet staples.
“Might work.” I flip through the first rack I come to.
“What’s the occasion?” She chomps down on a wad of gum, bringing my attention to her shiny red lips. Everything about this woman is flashy, from her colorful eye makeup to her long, fake eyelashes.
“I’m checking out a club tonight, but I only own this.” I motion to my underwhelming outfit.
“You must be talking about Blur. I just love it there. Me and my girlfriends go at least once a month.”
“Cool,” I drawl out dumbly.
“We don’t run into men like you, though. Maybe I’ll have to call the ladies and make a trip out tonight, show you how it’s done.” She shimmies her massive bosom. I’m positive those things could suffocate a man.
“I’m meeting someone there. A man.” I specify.
“That’s too bad. Oh! You should find Kian when you get there. He’s the one who owns the club. Tell him Belle sent you and he’ll take good care of you. He’s the sweetest. Maybe a little on the gossipy side. He always knows everything before everyone else.” Her face falls slightly. “Like when my cheating ex-husband was sleeping with that hussy from Bar Harbor.” Except it comes out Bah Hahbah. Maine locals must have a vendetta against the R sound.
“That’s actually who I’m meeting.” I admit because while Kian knows a lot about me, I can’t say the same about him. This lady seems like she’d tell me anything.
“Wicked.” She claps her hands. “Kian always has been a man’s man. Does that mean the same thing as a lady’s man?”
Interesting. So Kian gets around, huh? My duplicitous mind feeds me thoughts like, maybe we could be friends with benefits. And, you haven’t been laid in so long, wouldn’t it be nice to at least get sucked off?
“I’m not sure if it means the same thing, to be honest.” I ignore the rest of what she said.
“Either way, cute boy like him has been known to break a few hearts.” She watches me flip through the hangers of clothes. I have no idea what I’m looking for. My style is absence of style. On a linear chart, I have negative style. “Can I make a suggestion?”
“I guess.”
“You work at the fishing dock, right?”
“How did you know?” I ask, but immediately want to take it back. Small town.
“I could pretend I knew because of your rough hands, but won’t lie. Jarrett told me about you when I went hunting for an antique clock for my mama last week.” I look down at my calloused fingers and palms. They’re dry as fuck from working with saltwater and fish. “Anyway, this looks like something you might feel comfortable in.”
I take a plain white button-down and brown distressed leather vest from her. Surprisingly, she’s right. I do like it. “This actually might work.”
“I know it will. It’s manly and stylish. Kian will love it.”
“It’s not like that. We’re friends.”
She flashes me a discerning look. “You kids are always keeping things casual these days.”
“Do I just wear jeans with it?” I skip right over her comment. I don’t think she’d believe me anyway.
“Yeah. Blur isn’t fancy or anything.”
“Okay. I’ll take them.”
I check out and wave goodbye to the eccentric woman.
I walk into Focus first, wanting to catch Sara in action. She’s busy jotting down an order from a couple at a bistro table by the window, so I take a seat at the bar. I was impressed with the bar the first time I saw it, but now that I know Kian better, I’m even more in awe that someone his age could pull off something so classy.
“Hey.” Sara appears from behind the bar. She looks like shit. She didn’t even put on her normal makeup to cover up the circles under her eyes. I feel like an asshole. She’s so tired and worn out. I should be doing more to help her. “Come to check up on me?”
“No. Just wanted to say hi before going next door.”
“Were the kids okay when you left?”
“Yep. They were on the couch watching a movie. I think they’ll be perfect angels.”
“Good. You want a drink while you’re here?”
“Sure.”
She doesn’t even ask what I want; she knows I only drink Scotch whisky. I’m thankful Kian keeps it stocked. She watches me curiously while she pours. She didn’t say much when I told her my plan for the evening.
“What?” I ask.
“This thing between you and Kian, is it more than friendship?”
“No,” I say right away, but the kiss we shared flashes through my mind. It was stupid. I shouldn’t have done it. I was so desperate to feel something for another person, I lost myself. It’s all on me, though. I don’t blame Kian one bit. If anything, I feel guilty for doing that to him when I know he feels more than friendly toward me. I tried to make it up to him by purposefully not letting things get weird.