Take Three (The Jilted Bride #2)(30)

I needed some attention. Badly.

I contemplated calling TMZ to let them know I was in Fayetteville, but I decided against it at the last minute.

“I have to go get drunk,” I rolled off the couch. “I can’t deal with this right now.”

Chapter 14

Ethan

I took a seat at Farrell’s and motioned for the bartender. “How much for two glasses of scotch on the rocks?”

“I’ll make ‘em free, if you take that crazy karaoke lady home,” he pointed towards the back. “Everyone else is too drunk to do it.”

I looked over my shoulder and spotted a woman dancing on a small platform stage, singing into a microphone. She was facing the karaoke screen so I couldn’t see her face, just the back of her jeans and light pink shirt.

“So why can’t you seeee!” she sounded like a cat that needed to be put out of its misery. “You belong with meee!”

Hell no. I’ll just pay for the drinks…

“I don’t think so,” I took out my wallet. “How much do I—”

“Please man! Please!”

“Thank you everyone!” the karaoke lady screamed. “That was Taylor Swift’s ‘You Belong with Me!’ I’m going to sing it one more time and I want everyone to raise your glass and sing along!”

I shook my head. “No thanks. I don’t think I can deal with that tonight. I’d rather—”

“I’m begging you!”

“Fine…Where does she live?”

He slid me two large glasses of scotch. “She claims she’s staying at some hotel up the street. Just get her out of here as soon as possible. It’s not even karaoke night!”

“Will do,” I downed a glass of scotch and slammed it onto the counter.

This country under cover boss thing was starting to annoy me: Lola was a really good manager but she was extreme. She’d made me promise to stay late all next week so she could quiz me on the history of coffee production and distribution—things that weren’t even in the employee handbook.

I’d gone on two dates earlier in the week and both women bored me to tears: One of them spent dinner lecturing me on the geography of Arkansas, and the other one was just plain weird: She brought her collection of pet goldfish along—in three Ziploc bags, and made me watch YouTube videos of her swimming with her dogs.

“I don’t mean to rush you,” the bartender cut through my thoughts, “but she’s about to start a new song and I can’t deal with another one. You want me to pour the rest of that drink in a paper cup?”

“No, that’s okay. Thanks,” I downed the rest of it and stood up.

I walked towards the stage and tapped the woman on the shoulder. She didn’t turn around.

“This next song is for all my fans!” she tripped over a stool and stood back up. “All my fans that I apparently treat like shit! This one is for you!”

I tapped her shoulder again and she moved to other side of the stage, still not turning to face me.

She began to sing. “At first I was afraid…I was petrified…Kept thinking I could never live without you my side…”

The bar patrons booed. Loudly. A group of them threw straws and crumpled napkins at her.

“And so you’re back! From outer space! I just walked in to find you here with that sad look upon your face!” she was yodeling now. “I should have changed that stupid lock, I should have made you leave your key! If I had known for just one second you’d be back to bother me!”

“Please make it stop!” the bartender yelled from across the room.

I stepped onstage—dodging another barrage of crumpled napkins, and turned her around. “Selena?”

“Oh no, not I! I will survive! I've got all my life to live, I’ve got all my love to give, and I’ll survive! I will survive! Hey! Hey!”

“I think it’s time for me to take you home now,” I took the mic away from her.

“What! I’m not ready to go!” she tried to snatch the mic back and fell onstage.

“Okay,” I tossed the mic to a patron sitting at a table and pulled Selena to her feet. “You want to do this the easy way or the hard way?”

“I’m not going anywhere with you! I don’t know you!”

“Interesting choice,” I picked her up and threw her over my shoulder, ignoring the pounding of her fists on my back.

The patrons clapped and cheered as I carried her outside: “Thanks man!” “You’re my hero!” “Get her out of here!”

Once we were halfway down the block, I set her down on a bench. “Are you okay Selena?”

“I was perfectly fine until you ruined my night! Everyone in there loved me! They were all clapping! Didn’t you hear them? You just had to come and ruin it didn’t you? You just had to—” she bent over and vomited.

“Shhh. Try not to talk,” I pushed her hair away from her face.

“You can’t tell me what to do! I’m Selena Ross! I’m a goddamn celebrity! I’m supposed to be telling you what to do! And I’m supposed to…I’m supposed to have room temperature water right now! Right now!”

Why does she sound so Southern all of a sudden?