All the Right Moves(10)
At this rate, it would be a long night. But after talking to her for those few moments, he was willing to wait around. He’d have to cool it on the drinking, but that was no problem. He knew when to quit, and sitting here beat the restlessness that had him driving too fast on the long empty desert stretches before he’d found this place.
Hearing the door open again, he gritted his teeth. She’d never have a break if this kept up. Curious who’d wandered in this time, he turned around. Another man in a wheelchair rolled in and headed toward the retired air force vet’s table. The back of his chair was covered with navy decals surrounding a large American flag sticker. Following behind him was a trio who might have been cut from the same cloth, except two were lucky enough to still be upright, handicap-free, at least physically, and the third managed his severe limp with the help of a worn cane.
John assumed they were either military retirees or men who’d served their country until a bullet or spray of shrapnel changed their dreams and lives forever. These men were in their early to mid-forties with half their lives ahead of them.
His friend Danny had only been thirty when he’d died, leaving a young wife behind. They’d had no children, which was supposed to have been a “blessing.” John had heard that piece of nonsense more than once at the funeral. He didn’t get that. Sure, it was easier on his widow not having to explain why their father was never coming home. But kids would’ve meant there was still something left of Danny.
Who was John to judge? He had nothing but his career. A damn good one. He was a lucky guy. No denying it. So what the hell was his problem?
The ache in his gut was back gnawing away at his temporary peace. He hadn’t even made it an hour without feeling the walls close in. When he swung back around he saw his refill sitting on the napkin in front of him. Cassie had brought his beer and he hadn’t even noticed.
Watching her fill glasses with ice, he reached in his pocket and pulled out two twenties. He took a long pull of the cold brew and set the mug down on the bills. She could’ve been someone interesting to get to know. But she was right. This wasn’t his kind of place. Certainly not his kind of people.
He got up and left, knowing he wouldn’t find anywhere else more comfortable.
3
CASSIE SNAPPED HER GAZE BACK for a second look. He’d been sitting there a moment ago. His mug was almost full. Even though she didn’t think he was the type to mingle, she scanned the room.
It was crowded, but no John among the other customers.
She saw that his stool had been pushed close to the bar. That was something she and Lisa did after everyone left for the night. When people went to the bathroom or stepped away, they left their stool right where it was, even if it had landed in the middle of the room.
“Lisa, did you see the flyboy leave?”
“No, but I wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t skip out on his tab, did he?”
Cassie leaned over the bar as far as she could to see in the back. Nothing. “What?”
“Look.” Lisa pointed. “There’s money under his mug.”
Disappointment welled in her chest. She shouldn’t care that he’d gone. She should be glad. Yes, he was hot and had a nice laugh, great eyes. But he stared too much and made her self-conscious. Still, couldn’t he have finished his beer and waited for his bill? Maybe said goodbye? They’d talked a little.
She grabbed a damp rag on her way to collect the cash and wipe the bar. “Whoa,” she muttered when she saw what he’d left. The tab was only seven bucks even counting the scotch. He’d left forty. She grabbed the bills and hurried out the front door.
In the crowded parking lot, she recognized half the cars, but mostly she was looking for taillights. Was she being too optimistic? She could’ve sworn he’d still been inside a few minutes ago.
Some customers parked on the street when only narrow stalls were left in the lot. Of course he’d come in early but she walked to the road anyway. She spotted him then, pulling away from the curb. Well, she didn’t see him precisely, but that silver Corvette? Had to be John.
Knowing it was useless because he was too far away, she lifted a hand just in case. Because the tip was too big, and she had to at least try....
Of course, he drove off. Not that it mattered. As she hurried back to the bar she gave herself a good mental shake. Why did she give a damn that he’d given her a huge tip? Or that she’d never see him again. First of all, she didn’t date, and if she did, she didn’t date customers. Second, he was so far out of her league he might as well be headed for Mars.