Grace’s house sat on the top of West Seattle. It faced east, so there was no view from the front yard or porch. Whenever anyone came to her house for the first time you could see the disappointment on their face as they walked to the front door. The splendor, however, hits you as you walk through the door towards her open living room. The entire west wall was a window to the most amazing view of Puget Sound and the islands behind it. She loved waking up to that view and enjoying a cup of hot tea on the deck. At night she would languish in the hot tub that she had bought for herself for Christmas. Life was sweet. Then why was she so lonely? Gruden paced the perimeter of the backyard and stopped to look and see if she was watching him. He was satisfied that she was and continued to sniff as if tracking a bad guy. That’s what she needed, a bad guy. She loved Justin, but let’s face it, he wasn’t doing any good for her sex life. She knew that they would have a good time, so she went inside to get dressed. She put on her suede jeans and cowboy boots, knowing that he would scoff at them, and a red scoop line blouse with billowy sleeves. She felt like a renaissance poet, and it made her feel sexy. It accentuated her chest, even though she hated her breasts. They were too big. She could never find the right shirts that would accommodate them without making her look frumpy at the waistline. The shirts that fit her waist and arms were too tight around her chest. It was fruitless to shop at J. Crew, her favorite haunt for pants, because they believed that every woman wore a 34-B bra size. The red shirt was silky and she liked the way it caressed her skin as she moved. The doorbell rang.
“Come on in! Gruden’s in the backyard!” She was still in her bathroom putting on some light makeup. She heard the door open and then shut. “Do you want a mimosa? There’s orange juice in the fridge and the champagne is in the ice bucket.” She put her hair up loosely. There. Now she felt good. She looked pretty good, too. The ten pounds she had lost so far since she started her job with Sports Northwest were starting to make a difference in her confidence. Granted, it was due to stress, not exercise. “Grab me one, will you?”
“A woman who gets down to business first thing, I like it.” She turned around so fast that she slipped on the wet floor. Nick grabbed her arm before she slid into the splits position to the ground. “Did your mother name you that as a joke? My God, you’re about as graceful as a linebacker!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” He was still holding her arm, and she felt a rush of heat go through her body and rest on the spot where he was touching. Gruden, hearing an unknown voice coming from inside, began to bark aggressively at the sliding door. He let her arm go, smiled a wide smile that sent heat to the parts she had ignored lately, and turned to go into the living room. “Don’t let him in, he’s very protective!” Nick ignored her and walked to the door. He bent down to Gruden’s level and slid the door open with one finger.
“Hey there, Gruden! Where’s your ball?” So much for protection. The dog wiggled his butt and ran back outside for the football. “He’s some watchdog, all right. You should feel real safe all by yourself at night.” He walked to the kitchen and poured two flutes of champagne, adding a splash of orange juice. He handed one to her. “Sorry to disappoint you, but Justin is running behind. Probably can’t decide which outfit to wear, so he asked me to pick you up. Plus, he’s afraid of the big bad wolf.” As if on cue, Gruden ran inside with the football. Nick pulled it from his jaws and walked out onto the deck, the dog waiting anxiously for the pass. He drew his right arm back and lobbed it way high into the air. Grace couldn’t help but stare. He was magnificent. Look at that ass! What was it about Levi’s that made a guys butt look so damned good? They were tight around his muscular thighs as he stepped and turned. He caught her eyes and smiled again. She lifted her glass to her mouth and swallowed her mimosa in a gulp.
“Remind me to slap him when I see him. That still doesn’t explain why you’re here.”
“I’m not exactly sure, but I think he’s protecting me from a girlfriend. Apparently we’re going to Portland for the day. He wants to pretend that he’s on vacation and spend a lot of money. Are you ready? You look good, by the way… sorry about not showing up at Cutters that night. Something came up, and I got my extra house key from a friend. Thanks for sending my keys to me.” Why was he vomiting at the mouth? Well, this was one for the books! The look on her face was priceless! He didn’t want her to know that he had waited for her for an hour. And a few beers. Now he felt better about her tagging along with them. And saying that she looked good was definitely an understatement. She looked incredible, he couldn’t stop noticing her breasts swelling out of the top of her low cut blouse. He wanted to lean against her and feel them against his chest. He also wanted to feel how soft that suede felt as he covered her ass with his hands. What was it about this woman? He was used to the slightly emaciated twenty something girl! Grace was a woman, and then some. She wasn’t fat by any means, but she was definitely all woman. He wondered what she would feel like. He swallowed his drink and grabbed her purse from the couch. “Let’s go. He’s probably ready by now.”
‘Well, first of all, you’re assuming that I spend my evenings alone from the dog comment earlier. Second of all, I didn’t go to Cutters that night either, I sent them via courier. And thirdly, put my purse down. I know Justin, and if he’s being picky about his wardrobe, then we might as well have another drink, if you can handle it. I’ll call him while you – you are a bartender aren’t you?” She walked to the telephone to call Justin. Nick stared at her for a second and then grinned. She was a feisty one, all right. This might actually be some fun after all.
“Justin? Hey, it’s Grace, where are you, precious piece of shit? CALL ME!” She hung up. She turned to him, grabbed her mimosa and smiled politely. “Voice mail. Maybe he’s on his way over here. So baseball, huh? Gee, that’s neat! I’ve never entertained a real live baseball player before! So, like, how do you hit that little ball with a skinny little bat, anyway?” She thought that she would start conversing at a level that he could understand, coming from a woman and all. At first he just stared numbly at her, then, he flashed those teeth again. She really needed to stop making him do that, it was brutal on her concentration.
“Well, see, the thing that’s real important is that you never, ever take your eye off the little ball, because once you hit it, the goal is to run to the first pillow on the ground to your right side. It’s called a base. If you hit it real far without anybody touching it, you can move to the second one. Sometimes, and I’ve only done this a couple of times, you can race all the way to the home pillow without stopping. All you have to do is touch the pillows, there are four, as you pass them. It’s real fun.” She was laughing by the time he got to second. He remembered thinking about her laugh at very odd times lately. It made him feel good, like when a fan would scream words of encouragement at him from the stands just before he stepped up to the plate at a crucial moment, something so simple, and yet so obnoxious at the same time. He was trained to block them out, but just like her, they sometimes broke through his concentration.
“Ha ha. I’m sorry. I figured that was the kind of conversation you enjoyed with women. Besides, you lied to me. Here I thought I was a good customer to an attractive bartender. Now I’ll never forgive myself for making an ass out of myself in front of someone I’ll have to interview eventually. Speaking of which, what we’re doing is forbidden, you know. When you were just a bartender, or patron or whatever you were, you were fair game, but now you’re a conflict of interest…too bad.” She ran her eyes down his body and got up from the couch to make another. She should probably slow down, but he made her a bit nervous, which was silly because she had interviewed Joe Montana (granted he was friends with her family), for crying out loud. He was just an average player on an average team sitting in the living room of a very average girl. Woman. Shit.
“Well, first of all”, he mocked, ‘”you’re assuming that I only spend time with women who can’t count to a hundred. Second of all, I never introduced myself as ‘Nick the Bartender’. You assumed that role on your own. Thirdly, you also assume that you could have me anytime you like, as if I’m impressed that you’re a journalist.” He was starting to feel edgy.
“I’m a writer, not a journalist. So how does it feel to be just another piece of meat? Sound familiar?” She was pushing it, she knew, but she couldn’t stop herself from pissing him off. It was her best defense.
“ I think maybe I should go.” He got up to leave, and she felt a pang of guilt. She stepped in front of him before he reached the step.
“I don’t know why insults shoot out of my mouth so easily with you. I’m sorry I can’t seem to help it. You took me by surprise, and I’m not too good with surprises. Please go back in and fight with me? Make it a good fight, though, or you won’t be invited back…plus I can’t possibly drink this bottle by myself.” Please, please, please stay…
“Somehow I doubt that. Ok, but there are some conditions. No insulting our fatal flaws. No false advertising of any kind and I’m in charge from here on out. I get to drive, I get to decide where we go, and I get to surprise you with every decision. You need to get over your phobia of surprises because I really don’t think that I can survive your insulting behavior if you don’t. Deal”? That damned smile again.
“O.K. Deal. But...”
“No!” They sat back down, Grace grabbing the champagne and orange juice on her way. She suddenly felt warm and cozy, and she decided to throw a Duraflame into the fireplace. As she crossed the room, Nick smiled. He had been thinking that exact same thing. He felt an old friend lurking about. He, Nicholas Alan Blake, felt all funny inside. But it didn’t stay dispersed for long. It definitely was moving towards a very concentrated area and he needed, more than anything, another mimosa at ten thirty in the morning. What the hell was happening here? He began to feel awkward, and as she lit the fire he thought that he wouldn’t survive this day. The doorbell rang. With a surge of both relief and disappointment Nick realized that Justin had arrived.
Grace turned and rose to get the door. Nick stayed put on the couch, rubbing Gruden behind the ears. Gruden’s eyes followed Grace intently as she went to the door. The dog didn’t even bark! What if that was some psycho at the door? Maybe he needed to go to some sort of dog training school. He filed that away in his head so he could look into it later.
“Hey! What’s goin’ on? Whose Range Rover is that?” Nell burst in the front door as if she lived there. Gruden raced toward her. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t know you had company! Hi, I’m Nell. You’re the bartender! Or whatever you are.” She laughed and shook his hand. He stood up to greet her. “Gee you guys, starting early today? Not that it surprises me. What’s going on?”
“Hi, Nick Blake. Nice to finally meet you! Actually, we were enjoying a mimosa while Justin decides what to wear today.”
“Ah, I see. Well, that could take all day. Mind if I join you?”
“Actually, Nell, we were just about to talk some business. Grace seems to think that she’s going to interview me, and I need to discuss some things first. Maybe we could hook up later on, though?” Grace couldn’t believe he just came up with such a blatant lie. She smiled on the inside. She kind of wanted a bit more time with just him, and she knew that if Nell stayed, they would alter their behavior towards each other. Had he wanted the same thing? Nell gave her a look of minor disappointment (she’d get over it real quick) and gave in.
“O.K, well, give me a call later then. Oh, I almost forgot! I need to borrow your car tomorrow if I can. My bumper is finally getting fixed and I have so many errands to run. I’ll drop off my car and walk here in the morning. The guy said he could only do it tomorrow while they’re closed so his boss doesn’t find out. He’s only charging me twenty five bucks, and the rest of it I’ll trade for catering his anniversary party. I love having my own business!”
“Nell owns a Bistro in Bellevue.” Grace explained. “Yeah, I guess that’s all right. I don’t really have anything I need to do anyway.”
“Perfect. Thanks!” She turned her head as she walked to the door. “Nice to meet you Nick! Don’t say anything you’ll regret, she might quote you.” She laughed and was gone.
“I wonder where Justin is. Do you think we should go over there?” She asked.
“I’ll call him in a minute. Just so you know I won’t do an interview with you. You know that. I keep myself as private as possible, I know it sounds funny. I talk about the game, but no private stuff. I saw your article on McNeil, and I know how you like to bring up personal issues. Please don’t take offense to that.”
“Well, I know that you rarely give interviews, and you turn down televised talk shows, but I thought that you were just a little shy is all.” She smiled and settled down on the couch next to him. “Don’t worry. I won’t quote you without a written agreement from you, O.K? Besides, I like to think of you as just a bartender trying to find his way through life. It’s easier that way. So I guess you weren’t lying to Nell after all, I was hoping you just wanted to spend more time with just me." She smiled and took a sip of her mimosa and couldn’t believe that just came out of her mouth. She pulled the flute from her mouth spilling a few drops down her cleavage. Damn! Why was she so hopeless? Nick’s sudden laughter caught her off guard.
“You are priceless, Grace! Really priceless! Here’s to making new friends.” He lifted his glass, clinked it against hers; wanting nothing more than to chase the spilled champagne down her shirt with his mouth. He noticed her deep breath before she took another sip, again spilling it. “For crying out loud!” He got up to get a towel. Gruden followed him like a shadow. “I don’t know how you even function in the world,” he laughed, “do you ever go out to eat in public? I take it you don’t wear white to an Italian restaurant.”
“Now you’re just being mean! As a matter of fact, coincidentally I always wear white, it never fails… I am pathetic, I know, but that’s me, take it or leave it. What’s it to you, anyway, it’s not like I’m trying to wiggle my way into your bed or anything.” She hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt.
“Uh, huh, anyway…” he laughed. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed with a woman and meant it. He had a sudden urge to pull her to him and hug her so tightly that she couldn't possibly let go, but he knew that she was serious about the wiggling herself into his bed thing. As much as he wanted her, she wasn’t easy, even though he knew that she wanted him. Plus, this was one of Justin’s best friends, and if he broke her heart, Justin would never forgive it a second time. Sometimes life’s curve-balls weren’t remotely hittable.