“I…I can’t put my finger on it. She’s just cute. I want to know her more.” He looked over at me.
“I think you’ll like her, too,” he added.
“Ah, okay. I know where you’re going with this now. Why you wanted me to come.” I looked out the window and laughed. I should have figured this out when he insisted I join him.
“I don’t know, dude, don’t write it off. It worked out pretty well when we both dated Esme.
“Yeah. That was cool as shit. Until she moved back to France, anyway.”
Win nodded, wistfulness washing over his face. He’d really loved her. Hell, I had, too.
He pulled up to the curb in a funky South of Market neighborhood and headed for a non-descript door on a building with no street-facing windows.
“Guess I know why they call this Drive By. If you didn’t know it was here, you’d never notice it,” I said.
“Yeah, looks nice and dumpy. Just what the doctor ordered.” Win pulled the door open with a huge grin and let me enter first. He was in his element.
* * *
It was dim inside, enough so that I had to let my eyes adjust to the lack of light. When I could finally see, we headed for a long, wooden bar that must have been a hundred years old. Definitely a neighborhood place from the look of the geezer patrons and a couple yuppies in the corner enjoying cheap beer. A young guy with tattoos and thick silver earrings approached us with a bar mop in hand.
“What can I get you, gentlemen?” he asked with a smile, wiping down the spot in front of us. The old bar’s wood was stained by years of patrons spilling and breaking things. Oh, the stories it could probably tell.
“Hey, man,” Win said. “How ‘bout a couple Buds?”
“Coming right up,” the bartender said.
I turned to Win. “Dude, you know I hate Budweiser. Why do you always insist on ordering me one?”
Win rolled his eyes, waving his arm in the air to beckon the bartender back. He gestured toward me.
“My fine friend here would like one of your floofy beers.”
“Blow me,” I said to Win. I looked at the amused bartender, who probably thought we were a bickering couple. “I’ll have a Sierra Nevada, please.”
“So Brosey,” Win said to me. “What’s up with the restaurant?”
I took a long draw on my beer. Damn, that was tasty. “It’s going good, I think. The head chef really seems to like my work. He’s giving me more to do and even asked my opinion about a couple new dishes he’s working on.”
“Shit, bro! That’s awesome.” He slapped me on the back.
Just then, the bar’s front door blew open, letting in a flash of sunlight. It was gone just as quickly, returning to its sleepy duskiness at the slam of the door.
But it hadn’t closed fast enough that I didn’t see the gorgeous woman who walked in. I immediately felt a little jolt in my pants, and I prayed she’d come sit by me.
She was tall with this wild long hair, dressed kind of tomboyish with a plain white T-shirt and Adidas, which was quite the contrast with her curvy-as-shit figure. She walked straight toward Win and me, her tits jiggling lightly in spite of the lacy bra visible through her shirt. Her nice round hips moved side to side just the right amount. She didn’t have to try to be sexy, like some girls did, which really just killed me.
“Win!” she said as if she’d found a long-lost friend. How well did he know her? And how could I get to know her?
She threw an arm around him in a half-hug.
“I was hoping you’d come by the bar.” She turned to me. “Who’s your friend here?”
Holy shit. This was Garnet? Now I understood why we drove across town in such shitty traffic.
“Garnet, I’d like you to meet my friend, Brose, chef extraordinaire.”
I popped off my seat and took Garnet’s hand. And then, because I couldn’t help myself, I slowly pulled it to my lips for a kiss. God, her skin smelled good. She dropped her head back and released a laugh that washed over me like some kind of damn music.