“Oh, that’s uh…” Stan snapped his fingers and shook his head. “Violet? Vicki? Nice girl.”
Markus couldn’t tear his gaze from her. “How come I’ve never seen her in here?”
“You come at different times, I guess. Hey, you want that drink?”
“Yeah. Pour me another.”
Gin in hand, Markus left the bar and walked over to the girl. “Hey.”
She startled and dropped a rib. “Huh?”
“Sorry.” He held out his palm. “I didn’t mean to spook you.”
“Oh. No, no. It’s okay.”
Grabbing a napkin, she dabbed at her lips. Confusion entered her eyes, and it seemed she was trying to figure out whether or not he worked there.
“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not here to see if you’d like another drink. I only came over to hit on you.”
Her eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to apologize, but then she smiled.
“What’s that for?” She nodded at the cards in his hand. “You a gambling man?”
“These?” His face warmed.
Okay, magic was fun with the older crowd. Word was, however, that it didn’t help much when it came to getting the ladies. He’d never tested that theory out, choosing instead to leave the tricks at home whenever he had a date.
“They’re, uh…” He started to pocket them.
“We could play.” The brunette hooked an arm over the back of her seat. “I only know Go Fish, unfortunately, but maybe you could teach me something new.”
Unexpectedly, his heart skipped a beat. Close up, he saw the green and blue lacing the gray of her eyes. They were like marbles, each full of their own universe.
“I’m afraid I’d be a horrible teacher,” he said. “I’ve lost nearly every game I’ve played.”
“Hm. Well, how about a drink then?”
“A drink sounds perfect.” Taking the chair across from her, he extended his hand. “Markus Sinn.”
“Viv Thomas.” She shook his hand. “Sinn, huh? That’s a fun name. You don’t live up to it, do you?”
He exhaled through his teeth. “Depends on who you ask.”
Viv laughed, unaware of how little he was joking.
“It’s weird that I’ve never seen you here.” Markus propped his forearms on the table and leaned into them.
“I usually come on Sundays.” She swirled the umbrella in her margarita.
“What made today the exception?” he asked.
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and hesitated. “I couldn’t stand the thought of going home.”
A second later, she made a face. “I’m sorry.” She pushed her long bangs in front of her eyes, hiding them. “I can’t believe I just told a stranger that.”
Markus’ chest warmed. “Hey, no. It’s okay. I get it. I feel that way sometimes, too.”
“I guess a lot of people do from time to time.”
Viv sighed and leaned her head back, which caused her hair to slide away from her eyes—which was good. Eyes that pretty shouldn’t have been hidden.
It was his turn to hesitate. As a matter of fact, he often didn’t want to go home. Living alone didn’t suit him that well, but it seemed too risky to live with his mom. With his line of work, keeping some separation was good.
“Want to share any specifics?” He eyed her over his glass.
Viv looked sideways, lips twisting. He didn’t mind waiting, so long as he got to look at her.
“My life isn’t where I want it to be.” Her sparkling gaze snapped back to his. “It’s good. Don’t get me wrong.”
“You don’t say it like it’s good.”
“I just said it’s good. Those were my literal words.”
“Yeah, but your tone…”
Viv chewed on her bottom lip. Her margarita had run dry. Signaling to Stan, Markus gestured for another round.
“I have a really good job, but I don’t like it.” Her eyes squinted. “Should I feel bad about that?”
“Why would you feel bad about that?” he asked, genuinely interested.
“Because other people would love to be where I am.”
“So what? Those are other people. They’re not you. Thanks, Stan.”
He raised his glass and clinked it against hers.
“Thanks.” Viv smiled. “I hear you. I tend to beat myself up, though. For so long, all I wanted was security, and now that I have it, I want something else.”
“What?”
Pink tinted her cheeks. She fluttered her hand, dismissing the matter. “I’m talking too much.”
“We’re at a bar.” He sipped his gin. “What else are we supposed to do?”
“Good point, but how about you tell me about yourself? Give my gabbing jaw a rest.”
That was the last thing he wanted, but he stroked the stubble across his cheek and thought about it. Telling her his last name had been a lot. Usually, when he got together with girls, the less, the better.
Something about Viv made him want to open up, though. Maybe it was the way she fully engaged in each and every word. Her varied expressions had hooked him.
“I grew up here,” he started.
“Me, too.”
“With a single mother.”
“Me, too. Kind of.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Viv’s attention was on her drink. “I mean, my dad was around some, until he wasn’t.”
She fluttered her hand again. Time to move on.
“Right. I never knew my dad.” He shrugged. No big deal.
It was the things you had that made you, not the things you didn’t. If you were intentional about your approach, that was.
“I have a question,” she said.
“Shoot.”
“Why have you stayed in Jacksonville?”
“Because it’s in Florida and has beaches.”
Her smile lit up the dining room. “True.”
“You have family here still?”
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “My sister lives nearby.”
Her voice had dropped a bit. She seemed sad.
“Maybe I should bring these back out.” He slapped the deck onto the table.
“Oh, really?” Viv raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you were a bad teacher.”
“I am. I’m not teaching you anything.” He shuffled and spread out the deck. “This might come back to bite me in the ass, but pick a card.”
Lips twisting with delight, she did. Five minutes and two tricks later, Viv’s smile had doubled in size. Even if she now turned him down for being a magician, he almost didn’t care. He’d lifted her worries for a few.
“Why didn’t you show me that right away?” she asked, as Stan set down another round after declaring last call.
“Eh. ‘Hey, you like magic?’ doesn’t seem like the best pickup line.”
“I disagree.” She propped her chin on her fist and gazed at him.
Markus suddenly wished he had a whole arsenal of tricks up his sleeve.
He also wished he could reverse the clock, say, about an hour, and do this all over again. The bar’s closing hung above his head, an axe sure to drop at the worst possible time.