Genevieve’s stomach plummeted when Mallory laid her hand of cards down on the table with a smug grin. She blamed the alcohol… and Mallory’s intolerably shrill voice that drove her to join the card game. Normally she was a good poker player. Mallory, however, seemed to be sunglass-wearing, tv-competition good.
“What does that mean?” Jada asked, adjusting the white sash that told everyone she was the bride-to-be.
“It means,” Mallory began, sitting back in her chair with a glint to her eye. “Your sister owes me a ring.”
The other women around them gasped. Gen looked down at her mother’s ring. She rolled it around her right ring finger where it had sat every day for the past fourteen years.
“Mallory, you can’t. I’m the bride and you can’t upset the bride, right?” Jada whispered, her eyes flitting between the two women glaring at each other. “That ring… it was…”
Gen held her hand up to stop her sister from saying too much. “Double or nothing,” Gen challenged, already handing the deck of cards to Jada’s college friend, Lucy, to shuffle.
Mallory examined her impeccable french manicure with a scrutinizing gaze. “Hmmm, no,” she declared with that smug smile that made Gen want to reach across the table to choke her.
“Come on, Mallory,” Lucy said, still shuffling. “That game was the most exciting part of the night!” Lucy looked over to Jada who crossed her arms and pouted her lips. “Sorry Jada.”
Gen chuckled as she threw back another shot of tequila. She didn’t want to say it, but she couldn’t agree more. This was supposed to be a bachelorette party. They were supposed to be at some strip club downtown, throwing dollar bills and having strippers lick vodka from their belly buttons. Instead they were at a swanky bar on the lower east side that reeked of testosterone. If Gen lived closer, she would have planned the night herself and her sister would be fighting off throngs of men instead of fighting off the urge to yawn.
Not for the first time, she glanced around the small bar with a quartet playing in the corner. The place was nice. It had an old-era, speakeasy vibe with dark wood, a long bar and a tailored bartender. Under normal circumstances, Gen could see herself getting dressed up to meet friends here for a late-night catch up. But a bachelorette party? Even the various men lingering around seemed depressed. Most of them were tatted up and twice the size of those she normally came across in Boston. They all wore dark suits and a cloud of grief seemed to weigh down their shoulders.
Gen looked to the bar toward the man who caught her attention the moment she’d entered at the back of the overly-cheerful group of ladies. He sat at the bar alone, the men around him giving him a wide berth. He looked the same as he had an hour ago. He held his head up in his right hand where a lit cigarette hung precariously close to his beautifully rich brown hair which was combed back apart from a few strands that escaped over his forehead. His left hand spun a half-drunk glass of amber liquid. His posture appeared collapsed in on itself and looked as though his entire body was only being held up by his right hand. When said hand came down so he could take a drag of his cigarette she was surprised his head didn’t crack against the wood bar. Her heart ached for him.
“Yeah! Do the ‘How to Lose a Guy’ thing!” Rachel suggested, bouncing in her seat. Lucy and Jada placed hands on either of her shoulders to try to calm her down.
Gen tried to focus back in on their conversation. “What’s happening?”
“Hmm, I like it,” Mallory said.
“Like what?” Gen asked.
Jada sighed. “Rachel here, being ever the helpful lady she is, suggested Mallory pick a guy out for you to take home.”
“Like the bet in ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days’!” Rachel repeated.
Gen laughed, drawing the eyes of several of the men closest to them. “That’s a good one.”
“I want to do it,” Mallory chuckled.
“No.”
Mallory leaned forward and held her hand out. “Then give me the ring.”
Gen’s jaw clenched as did the fist that had her mother’s ring. She could punch her. It wouldn't be the first face to bear the imprint of her mother’s engagement ring.
“Fine,” she ground out between her teeth.
Rachel clapped her hands in excitement. “Let’s see, let’s see, who can we find to…”
“Him,” Mallory said without hesitation.
The women around her all gasped as they followed the path of her finger. Gen looked over her shoulder and her heart skipped. She was pointing to the man alone at the bar. The one she’d been unable to keep her eyes off of all night. She smirked but schooled her expression as she looked back at Mallory.
Jada’s worried eyes swiveled to her future sister-in-law. “Mallory, no. Pick anyone else. I won’t let…”
“Deal,” Gen said, leaning forward to clasp Mallory’s outstretched hand. When she went to pull it back, Mallory held it firmly.
“Remember though, when he turns you down, I get your ring,” Mallory said with a sinister grin she’d only ever seen on horror movie posters.
Gen succeeded in wrenching her hand free. She threw back her last shot and stood up. She smoothed down her dress and flicked her waist-length black hair behind her shoulders. Jada shot up out of her seat and gripped Gen’s arm before she could move.
“Do you know who that is?” she whispered, her voice clogged with nerves.
“No. Is he some sort of celebrity?” Gen asked, eyeing the man as he took another drag of his cigarette before burying it in the ashtray. He picked up his cigarette packet with a sigh and pulled a cigarette out using his lips. He fiddled in his pockets for his lighter. This would be the perfect opportunity.
“Yeah, he’s…”
“Thank you, baby sister, but I got it. Don’t tell me, it will just mess with my head. I gotta go,” Gen said, extricating herself from her sister.
Gen walked toward the bar, ignoring the worried murmurs of the women she left behind. Her target was still rooting in his pockets. She closed the distance quickly, deflecting the curious gazes of the other men in the room. She stepped up to the stool beside the mystery man who didn’t seem to notice her approach. He let out a frustrated growl as he dug his hand deep into his right pocket.
“Vodka Tonic,” she said to the waiting bartender. He nodded and walked off. She glanced at the man to her right who seemed to have given up on finding his lighter and instead glared down at the drink he now held tightly between cupped hands. “Do you need a light?” she asked cautiously.
The man closed his eyes and dropped his head back, showing off his adams apple and the tendons of his neck that disappeared into his dark beard.
“Fuck, yes,” he groaned, the sound so close to being sexual it made her legs clamp together.
Gen pulled her lighter from her purse. She picked the cigarette up from the bar and lit it before holding it out for him between her middle and pointer finger. She grimaced at the red line of her lipstick on the end. His head fell forward and he took the cigarette without a single comment. He took a long hard pull. He let his hand fall to the bar with a thud before blowing the smoke out through his nose.
He opened his eyes and stared down at the cigarette in his hand. He held it up and turned it so he could see the entire outline of her lips. She held her breath as he glanced sideways at her, his eyes immediately drawn to her lips. She parted them under his inspection. She could finally see his entire face and was struck by the beauty of the man.
Soft brown eyes were framed with thick black eyelashes and separated by a sharp nose that had definitely been broken a few times. His lips were thick and looked soft as he pulled his lower lip through his teeth. He looked away before his eyes rose to hers, preventing her from reading anything they showed.
“You’re a lousy poker player,” the mystery man commented before taking another drag. His voice was a lower baritone than she’d expected and he had a bit of an Italian accent as if he’d spent a large amount of time in the country. She sat more fully on the bar stool to keep her legs from weakening at the sound.
“I beg your pardon?”
He bobbed his head to the table of women watching them closely. “When your hand turned bad, it showed all over your face.”
“You’ve been watching, huh?” she asked, hoping she sounded flirtatious.
“From the moment you walked in,” he admitted. He sipped the last of his whiskey and whistled for the bartender who promptly put a replacement before him. “Where’s her vodka tonic?” Mystery Man growled. The bartender stuttered over a few excuses before procuring her drink seemingly out of thin air.
“Thank you,” she mumbled.
“So what did you lose?” he asked.
“Nothing, yet,” she answered, sipping her drink.
Mystery Man chuckled. “Mallory Carmichael doesn’t let victims off that easily. You owe her something.”
“You know her?”
“Unfortunately.”
Gen tapped her fingers on the bar and glanced over her shoulder. Mallory sat back in her chair, a shit-eatting grin plastered on her face. Jada tapped her own fingers anxiously while Rachel massaged her shoulders.
“You,” Gen finally answered.
Mystery Man snorted. “What about me?”
Gen took a deep breath. “Double or nothing. I go home with you or I lose my mother’s ring.”
