One True Loves(30)

Feeling confident, I went back into the bathroom and outlined the edges of my lips in a perfect crimson line, filling it in with a lipstick that was called Russian Red. I’d only worn it once a few months ago when I took Marie out for a fancy dinner in Back Bay. But I’d liked it then. And I liked it now.

When I made my way back to the front door and once again caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I felt borderline indestructible.

I looked good.

I knew I looked good.

This was my good look.

“Thank you,” I said to Sam there at the bar. I pressed my lips together and I sat down on the stool next to his. “You’re no slouch yourself.”

The bartender, a tall, formidable woman with long, dark hair, came over and asked me what I wanted to drink. I quickly perused their signature cocktails list and nothing struck a chord. It all just looked like various ways to mix fruit juice and vodka.

“Gimlet?” I said.

She nodded and turned away, starting to mix.

“What are you having?” I asked him. He was sitting in front of a pale draft beer. “I hope you haven’t paid for that yet. It’s supposed to be on me.”

Sam looked over at me and smiled a sorrowful smile. “They made me pay when they handed over the beer,” he said. “But that just means you’ll have to buy my second.”

“Fair enough.”

The bartender put my drink in front of me and I handed her my credit card. She disappeared.

“I mean, you say that, but for my second beer, I plan on ordering the most expensive one on the menu.”

We were both sitting facing forward, looking at each other with glances and side eyes.

“That’s OK,” I said. “It’s the least I can do since you took the time to teach me this.”

I started playing “Chopsticks” on the bar with my right hand as if the keys were underneath it. Sam angled his body toward me to watch.

“Very good!” he said when I was done.

“A plus?” I asked.

He thought about it while sipping his beer. “A-minus,” he said as he put his beer down. “You just missed it by a hair.”

“What?” I said. “Where did I go wrong?”

“You missed a note.”

“No, I didn’t!” I said.

“Yes, you did. You did this,” he said, hitting the bar with the same fingers I’d hit it with just a few moments ago. “And it’s this.” He hit the bar again. It looked exactly like the first one.

“That’s the same thing.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “Nope. It’s not.”

“Do it again.”

“Which one?”

“Do what I did and then do what the real thing is.”

He started to repeat mine.

“No, no,” I said. “Slower. So I can spot the difference.”

He started over and slowed it down.

He did mine.

And then he did his.

And there it was. Right toward the end. I’d skipped a key.

I smiled, knowing I was wrong. “Aw, man!” I said. “I did mess it up.”

“That’s OK. You’re still very good for a beginner.”

I gave him a skeptical look.

“I mean,” he said, his whole body shifting away from the bar and toward me. “You play the bar beautifully.”

I rolled my eyes at him.

“I’m serious, actually. If you got into it, I bet you could be really good.”

“You probably say that to all the girls,” I said, waving my hand at him, dismissing the compliment. I gracefully picked up my gimlet and slowly brought the filled-to-the-brim glass to my lips. It was sweet and clean. Just the littlest bit dizzying.

“Just my students,” he said.

I looked at him, confused.

“Now seems like a good time to tell you I’m a music teacher,” he said.

I smiled at him. “Ah, that’s awesome. What a perfect job for you.”

“Thanks,” he said. “And what about you? Are you some big travel writer now? My mom said she saw your name in Travel + Leisure.”

I laughed. “Oh yeah,” I said. “I was. I did that for a while. But, uh . . . no, now I’m actually running the store.”

“No way,” Sam said, disbelieving.

“Shocking, I know,” I said. “But it’s true.”

“Wow,” he said. “Colin Blair’s greatest wish. There’s a Blair running Blair Books.”

I laugh. “I guess dreams do come true,” I said. “For my dad at least.”

“But not for you?” Sam said.

“Not the dream I originally dreamt, as you know,” I said. “But I’m starting to think you don’t always know what your dreams are. Some of us have to run smack into one before we see it.”

“Ah,” Sam said. “Cheers to that.” He tilted his glass toward me and I clinked mine against his. “May I change the subject ever so briefly?” he said.

“Be my guest,” I said.

“You seem to get even more beautiful with time,” he said.

“Oh, stop it,” I said, pushing his shoulder away with my hand.

I was flirting. Me. Flirting.