Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
This bar in particular is one of my favorites. It’s always full. Its tufted leather seats are constantly filled, and the warm rich tones of the wooden ceiling and brick walls make it feel like home somehow.
My suit is nothing fancy, nothing that will stand out in here. Which is how I want it. I run my fingers through my hair and shake away the rain as I shrug off my jacket and toss it over the barstool at the very end.
It’s been a long day and the last thing I need is to go home alone. As soon as my eyes lift, the bartender is on me. I think her name is Patricia. She’s in here every weekend.
“Whiskey?” she asks me. She never stops moving, shoveling ice into short glasses and pouring liquor like a pro. Unlike the other women in here, she’s not looking for a man with deep pockets. She doesn’t do chitchat either, which is another reason I like sitting in this section. The biggest reason is that it’s out of the way, somewhere I can simply blend in and watch.
“Double,” I answer her with a nod and slip my cell phone out from my jacket pocket. I’ve only been gone from the office for two hours, but I’ve got a dozen emails waiting for my attention. A huff of a grunt leaves me as a text from Liam pops up.
You coming out tonight?
Already out, I answer him as the glass hits the polished bar top and Patricia slides it over to me.
My phone pings as I lift the tumbler to my lips and let the cool liquor burn all the way down, warming my chest.
Where at?
I contemplate telling him. I like Liam. A lot. If I had any friends, he’d be one of them. But and after talking to my father today, I don’t want to be around a damn soul.
A sarcastic laugh makes me grin as I realize I’ve come to a crowded bar to be alone. It’s the truth, though. You’re always surrounded by people in this city; there’s never a place to hide unless it’s in plain sight.
I down the rest of my drink and tap the heavy glass against the bar top as I consider what to tell him. That’s when I hear it. Almost as if daring me to stay alone any longer, it’s the gentle sound of a feminine laugh. It’s genuine and it rings out clear in the bar even though it’s soft.
It’s a soothing sound, a calming force in the chaos that surrounds us. Everything around me fades except for the woman who uttered that sweet sound.
The smooth glass stays still as I look down the bar in search of her.
The rest of the crowd doesn’t seem to notice as they continue with whatever the hell they’re saying and doing, but my eyes are drawn to my left. Through the throng of people, I just barely get a glimpse of her.
Dark brunette hair that’s pulled back; pale skin covered in black lace.
A man at the opposite end leans away from the bar, digging in his back pocket for his wallet and giving me a clear view of her.
Those dark red lips attract my gaze first. She licks her bottom lip before picking up a large glass of deep red wine. The color matches her lips perfectly. She smiles at something and her shoulders shake as she laughs, making the dark liquid swirl in her glass and bringing a blush to her high cheekbones.
She tosses her hair to the side and her fingers tease the ends as she brings her tendrils over one shoulder, wrapping them around her finger while she sips her wine.
It’s when she looks away from whomever she’s been giving her attention to that my curiosity is piqued.
Without their eyes on her, her expression morphs into something else. I finally see her eyes, the lightest of blues, and that’s when I really see her. Not just the image of what she’s portraying.
Pain is clear as day.
It’s the lie though, how fucking good she was at hiding it, that’s what really gets me. Even I was fooled.
People can hide behind a smile or a laugh; every soul in here can pretend to be someone and something they’re not.
The truth is always there though and I’m damn good at recognizing it. Your eyes can never hide two things: age and emotion. Hers speak to me in a way nothing else can.
But had I never looked just then when she thought no one was watching, she never would have shown me willingly.
She straightens her back and I see her profile, her expression. The corners of my lips turn down. Not only do I know her pain, I know her name. I know everything about her.
Julia Summers.
My blood chills as she turns back to the table, the smile on her face slipping back into position just as the man at the end of the bar steps forward, obscuring her from my vision. As if the moment of clarity and recognition was just for me in that moment. Like fate wanted me to know how close I was to her.