"Hey, Dixon," Celia smiled and leaned onto the bar to talk to Lilli. Dixon groaned as Celia leaned over the bar, pushing her ass out. Her ass was nice, but I knew who’s ass was better—Lilli’s. Shaking off the thoughts of Lilli, I focused on what I needed to do.
At the end of the night James disappeared, probably with a random girl. Oscar was driving my date home. You’re welcome, Oscar. And Celia asked Dixon to drive her home, much to his shock. I ended up sitting at the bar talking to Lilli until closing.
She surprised me when she asked me about my life. "So, what’s it like running such a large company at your age? That’s a lot of responsibility."
"It’s hard. I mean every day I have to think about the fact that what I do makes a difference to over 5000 employees, not including our affiliates." I sighed taking a drink of water. Saying it out loud made the inheritance conditions a heavier burden to bear.
"I wish I could say I understand, but I’m afraid I don’t. Though, I can imagine it would be difficult."
I looked at her after she said that. It wasn’t the usual response. Most people just said they could understand, even if they couldn’t.
"You’re in school, right?"
She nodded.
"That means you work late hours and then you head to classes during the day. That’s a lot of responsibility."
"Well, I was working part time and going to school full-time," she paused for a moment, "but that didn’t work out. So now, college is part-time and work is full-time." She smiled, but it was obviously forced.
"What’s your major?"
"Literature and Journalism," she blushed. The way she half closed her eyes and pursed her lips was adorable. "Don’t make fun of me." She gave me a fake stern look. I put my hands up in surrender.
Clearly ready to change the subject, she switched topics.
"So your parents were actually...?" She let her words drift off and her brow furrowed. Her hand that was wiping down the bar slowed.
"Murdered? Yeah, I was ten" I said quietly.
"Wow, that…sucks." Her face reddened, embarrassed by her comment.
I shrugged.
"You’re right. It did suck." I smiled sadly. She bit her lip. "It also brought me closer to my aunt and uncle. I was lucky considering."
Nodding, her hands moved, deftly stacking glasses.
"Is it a requirement, as a bartender, to be a makeshift therapist or something?" I found it way too easy to talk to her.
She laughed, loudly.
"Not that I am aware of. Besides, I don’t usually get to do a lot of talking while I work. The music gets pretty loud in here." She said over her shoulder.
"So, what about your parents?"
"Oh, my parents aren’t that interesting." Shaking her head, she wiped her hands on a towel.
"Come on," I coaxed, waving my hand for her to tell me.
"My father is a retired lobster fisherman in Winter Harbor where I basically grew up."
"What about your mother?"
"Ah, the cougar." She grinned. "After two failed marriages, my mother is now living in Canada with a hockey player. Sarah designs jewelry, lives off of the alimony from her second husband and supports her boy toys career." She turned, eyes on me. "Told you…boring." She smirked. Before I could say anything, she sat up on the bar and yelled.
"Bill, I’m taking off now!" Lilli swung her legs over the bar, grabbed her bag and hopped to her feet.
"See ya tomorrow night!" A muffled voice came from somewhere in the empty club.
Turning, she looked at me.
"So, loser, you ready to get out of here?" Her smile was so infectious, one dimple appearing on her right cheek.
"Loser? Why am I a loser?" I slipped from the barstool.
"Well let’s see, you came here for a blind date—that you let Dixon set you up on—your blind date basically did her own thing for the night, left with your friend and then the rest of your friends ditched you. What would call that?" She raised her eyebrow and gave me that one dimpled smile.
"You’re right. I’m a loser," I laughed.
"Told you." She placed her hand to her forehead, her fingers in the shape of an L.
When we got outside, she pulled a sweatshirt out of her bag and slipped it over her head. The way her back had arched to get the shirt on, I instantly thought about taking that sweatshirt, along with the rest of her clothing, off. Her long, dark hair looked even softer as she pulled it from the collar.
"Well, goodnight Aidan and better luck on your next date." With a smile, she left me on the sidewalk in front of the club, walking down the street.
"You’re walking?" Looking around at the darkness, I thought about what could be waiting in an alley for her.
She looked back.
"I do it every night, dad," she chuckled. "I grab the bus down the block," she kept walking. "Night!"
I found my car and climbed behind the wheel. I sat for less than a minute before I darted out of the parking space and headed in the direction she was walking. There's no way I'm letting her walk the dark street or sit at a bus stop this late.