My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears as I headed toward the restroom with every eye in the place on me.
I pretended I didn’t hear him calling my name or her greeting him.
“Knox? Seriously? It’s about damn time,” a throaty voice said.
“Fucking A, Lina. You couldn’t have called first? This is the worst goddamn timing.”
I didn’t hear anything else because I pushed through the restroom door and went straight to the sink. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to cry, throw up, or pick up the trash can and throw it at Knox’s head. I was trying to get myself under control and considering a plan that would involve all three of my options when the door swung open.
My ex-imaginary friend strolled inside, hands in her back pockets, gaze on me.
I could only imagine what she saw. A pathetic, lovesick, mid-thirties loser with horrible taste in men. That’s what I saw in the mirror every morning before I covered it up with mascara and lipstick.
“Naomi,” she said.
I cleared my throat, hoping to dissolve the lump that had taken up residence there. “That’s me,” I said brightly. It sounded like I was choking on thumbtacks, but at least I’d rearranged my face into a carefully blank expression.
“Wow. Game face. I like it. Good for you,” she said. “No wonder you’ve got his balls tied up in knots.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I pulled a paper towel free and ran it around the perfectly dry, clean counter.
“I’m Lina,” she said, closing the distance between us, her hand outstretched. “Angelina, but I don’t like the mouthful.”
I took the offered hand automatically and shook. “Nice to meet you,” I lied.
She laughed. “No, it isn’t. Not with that first impression. But I’m going to make up for that and buy you a drink.”
“No offense, Lina, but the last thing I want to do is sit down at my ex-boyfriend’s bar to have drinks with his new girlfriend.”
“None taken. But I’m not his new girlfriend. Matter of fact, I’m an ex-ier ex than you are. And we’re definitely not drinking here. We need to go someplace without Knox’s big, dumb ears.”
I really hoped she wasn’t messing with me.
“What do you say?” Lina asked, cocking her head. “Knox is having heart palpitations out there, and every other person is on their phone reporting to the grapevine what just happened. I say we give them all something to freak out over.”
“I can’t just walk out on a shift,” I said.
“Sure you can. We have stories to share. Commiserations to commiserate. Drinks to drink. He’s got that cute little helper out there. He’ll be fine. And you deserve a break after that shit show.”
I took a deep breath and debated. The idea of staying on shift here with Knox was one step below having my toenails ripped out one at a time during a gynecological exam.
“What color is your nail polish?” I asked.
“Burgundy Blood Bath.”
Sloane: Just heard that Knox’s new girlfriend showed up at the bar and they started having sex on the pool table. Are you okay????? Do you need shovels and tarps?
Me: I’ve been kidnapped by new girlfriend who is actual old ex-girlfriend. We’re daydrinking at Hellhound.
Sloane: Let me find some pants! Be there in fifteen!
Hellhound was a biker bar fifteen minutes out of town heading in the direction of D.C. Outside, the parking lot was half full of motorcycles. The crap brown clapboard siding didn’t do anything to make the place look more welcoming.
Inside, the lights were dim, the pool tables were plentiful, and Rob Zombie music thudded from a jukebox in the corner. The bar was sticky, and I had to quash the urge to ask for a sponge and some Pine-Sol.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender asked. He wasn’t smiling, but he also wasn’t overly intimidating. He was the tall, burly type with gray hair and a beard. He wore a leather vest over a white long-sleeved tee. The sleeves were pushed up to his elbows to reveal tattoos down both arms.
They made me think of Knox. Which made me want alcohol.