I stop playing and unplug the cable. He takes off the headphones and hands them back. “You’re really good.”
I smile. “Thanks. I’m actually in a band.” I bend down and turn off the amp.
“Really?” He seems impressed.
I laugh and nod. “Yeah. Now, with an electric guitar, you’ll need an amp and a guitar cable. Does she have any of that or will you be adding it to your order?”
He shrugs. “Might as well get the whole setup,” he breathes out.
I grab a cable for him and move on to our rows of amps. “What’s she going to be using this for?”
He looks over them and opens his mouth, but no sound comes out because he has no idea.
“You could go with this smaller personal amp if she’s just going to be practicing in her room. But if she wants to start up a garage band, she’ll need something a little bigger—like this.” I place my hand on a larger amp and he agrees.
I grab what he needs and start our journey to the counter before going back to grab the amp.
Behind me, he follows along until he says, “I hope this isn’t too forward, but you wouldn’t be offering guitar lessons, would you?”
I stop and turn back to face him. My brows draw together as I bite on my lower lip. I could use the money. “What does the job pay?”
He shrugs as he closes the couple of feet between us. “I don’t really know. What does an hour a week run?”
I scoff. “An hour a week? How about an hour a day, three days a week?”
He smiles but looks down at the wallet he’s holding in his hands like he doesn’t want me to see his smile. He’s a lawyer. I’m sure he’s used to the constant back and forth when negotiating terms. “Three hours a week it is.”
I smile. “A hundred bucks a week.”
“It’s a deal,” he agrees and I turn to head to the counter. “I can arrange for her to meet you here tomorrow afternoon if that’ll work for you.”
I set down his things and write my number on a piece of paper, sliding it over to him. “Sure! Text me her info?”
He nods once, smile still in place as he slips it into his wallet.
“So, what’s the name of your band?” he asks, putting my number into his wallet and pulling out a card.
“The Wonder Kings,” I reply, typing my employee password into the computer to unlock it.
He steps up to the counter to pay. “I’ll have to look you guys up sometime.”
I smile as I scan his items into the computer. “We have a show tonight at The Ol’ Pub. Come check it out. But I have to warn you, our shows can get a little crazy sometimes. Not to brag, but we’re sorta local celebrities.” I flash him a flirty smile—the kind I usually give to the guys in the crowd to get them going.
He swipes his card. “Then I’ll definitely have to check you out. I can’t be the only one in Chicago who hasn’t seen a Wonder Kings show!”
I laugh as I hand him his receipt. “Then I guess I’ll see ya there.”
“I guess so.” He grabs his things and heads toward the door. He spins around to face me as he pushes the door open with his back. His eyes linger on mine a little longer, but he finally walks out the door, ending our connection.
The moment he leaves, I pull up Instagram and type his name into the search bar. He pops up immediately and I can’t help but scroll through his pictures. He’s some kind of fancy lawyer. There are pictures of him sitting at his desk and another of him shaking hands with some tall guy in front of a sign that reads Young & Smith. I look up the business and see that it’s a local law office owned by someone named Calvin Young.
The door opens, causing the bell above it to ring. I pull my attention away from the phone and set it down, heading over to help a customer as he picks out the strings he needs.
Two
Daniel
“Dude, you would not believe this girl who sold me the guitar,” I tell Calvin when I walk back into the office after my lunch break.
“Yeah? Was she cute?” he asks, grabbing a file out of the cabinet and taking it back to his desk.
“Cute? No, that’s not the word I’d use to describe this girl. Cute means rosy cheeks, blonde curls, and a peaches-and-cream complexion. This girl has gorgeous brown hair with flowing waves I’d kill to run my hands through. She has blue eyes that had more black shit around them than I’ve ever seen anyone use. She’s in a rock band. Well, I guess it’s a rock band. She didn’t exactly say, but she’s in a band and I’m going to check them out tonight.”
He laughs. “You and some rocker girl? I don’t see that ever happening,” Calvin says, running a hand through his neatly styled dark hair.
I snort. “Why not? I can rock out with the best of them.”
He laughs. “Really? What was the last rock concert you went to?”
I try to think back on it, but I probably haven’t been to a concert since high school. Once I got to college, I was too busy studying to have time for that shit.
He sees my face and says, “Exactly my point. She’s wild and crazy and you’re a lawyer who handles more divorces than anything else.”
I sit back in my chair and think about it. “But they say opposites attract. It could work out. And if not, at least I could have a little fun for a while.”
Calvin shakes his head but smiles. “You could have that,” he agrees.
After work, I get home and take a shower. I look in my closet to find something to wear. I can’t exactly wear a suit to a bar to meet up with some rocker chick. I pull on a pair of jeans, the only pair of tennis shoes I own and use only for running, and a black T-shirt that fits a little more snugly than what I’d normally wear. I put some product in my hair to make it stand up in a messy way, and I don’t bother shaving.
It’s going on 8 p.m. when I finally eat dinner, and another hour passes before I’m leaving the house. I didn’t want to get there too early anyway. I call a cab and tell her where to take me. It’s a good thing I did, because I’d never heard of The Ol’ Pub before. When we pull up, I see why.
It’s just some run-down hole-in-the-wall bar. I don’t usually frequent dive bars—at least not since my college days. Walking into the venue, the smell hits me: body odor from the dozens of people piled inside the small building, mixed with the stench of stale alcohol and cheap weed. It’s dirty, and honestly, I’m afraid to even sit on a barstool, but I do because I remember what Calvin said about her lifestyle compared with mine, and I’m determined to prove him wrong. I can fit into her world. I’ll make him see that.
I sit at the bar and order a glass of scotch. I don’t know what I’m given, but it must be the cheapest scotch known to man. I choke it down while people are bumping into my back and shoulders, then I order a beer for safe measure. The beer tastes much better, but that’s probably because I’m not expecting much from a Budweiser.
As I sit alone and drink my beer, I look around the bar, hoping to catch her. In the far back corner, I spot a couple who might be having sex against the wall. There’s a large group of people already on the dance floor, crowding the stage and waiting for the show to begin. And the bar is lined to the max with people grouping around it, but I don’t find her beautiful face or flowing waves anywhere.