Mikka jerked back, obviously not used to such a boisterous greeting. She knew LA clubs: loud, flashing lights, clean floors, sleek interiors. People might have looked my way but she blended into the crowds there. Here, people were looking more at her than me.
Ray owned this place after his pop passed on, and he hadn’t updated any of the design. It was lived in. Loved. Comfortable.
The exact opposite of a big city hot spot.
Ray’s bald head shined as bright as his smile in the flickering light over the bar. He lifted the sidebar to greet me. “You son of a damn gun. Get your ass over here and give me a hug.”
A few others waved and said, “welcome back.” I let him bear hug me, his flannel shirt reminding me that Mikka and I might be overdressed.
“Hey, Ray.” I patted his back. “Looks like business is going well.”
His belly shook with a chuckle as he looked between Mikka and me. “I’m the only bar within 10 miles. Of course business is going well. Who’s this pretty thing? I hear you’re trying to keep him in line.”
Mikka cleared her throat and shot her small hand forward. “Word seems to travel fast. Yes, I’m Mikka, Jay’s PA.”
“A PA?” His eyebrows rose. “Whoa, boy. You sure you need it now that your career is about to tank? I read about it in the tabloids.”
First dig. I shook it off, ready for thousands of them. This is what I would have to do. I’d prepared for the onslaught of questions. It was the way to face my reality over and over again. I had to be strong enough to handle this and not slip backward. The movie, my career, and my life meant too much. “I hope so. I’ve weathered the worst of the storm. I’m hoping rehab spat me out better than ever.”
He grunted. “Rehab for what? The tabloids didn’t say. Is it drugs? Because you know I don’t believe in a problem with alcohol.”
Ray, to put it bluntly, didn’t care if you were an alcoholic. He only cared that you were an alcoholic at his bar.
“Problem is with drugs, Ray. You know I can handle a drink.”
“In that case, want a round?” He lifted a shoulder, conversation over for him. One down, thousands more to go.
“I’ll still take just a water, and Mikka will want—”
“Vodka soda with lime,” she blurted. “And, two shots. Straight. Please.”
Ray winked at her and motioned us on. He’d send one of his waitresses to deliver the drinks. “Vodka?” I questioned as we maneuvered around a couple of tables to one farther in the back. Donny and Karen, an older couple that my parents regularly talked with, got up to leave. They waved us over, welcomed me back, and gave up their table.
Her manicured nail tapped on the table as soon as she had sat down and situated her leather bag next to her. She cleared her throat. “Do you need me to do anything, introduce myself to anyone?”
Her tense shoulders, her dark eyes looking more hesitant than I was used to, almost made me reach for her hand. “Meek, relax. It’s a bar. We go to bars all the time.”
“It feels like everyone is staring.” Our drinks arrived and she downed her first shot immediately. She winced and sucked in air through her teeth. “Is it bad that I’m having this in front of you?”
“No. I can drink.” I shrugged. Alcohol had never been my problem.
“Okay,” she murmured and stared at the next shot like she wasn’t sure she should take it.
“The drinking and partying around drugs is my problem, Meek. Cocaine is the problem.”
When her hair fell over one side of her cheek, she pushed it behind her ear quickly and looked at me through her lashes. “It’s not the right time for me to ask the questions I probably need answers to sooner or later.”
“You want to pull out your planner and go down a list, don’t you?”
One side of her mouth lifted and she rolled her eyes before grabbing the next shot and downing it too. “Why does it feel like I have more eyes on me than I’ve ever had in all the times we went out together?”
“Because you do.” I shrugged and leaned back into the booth where I could drape my arms along the top. “They know me, they haven’t seen me in ages, and they want the latest gossip. They don’t know you, which means there is more gossip to be had.”
She spun her empty shot glass around. “Can I ask you something?”
I nodded, wondering why she didn’t just jump right in. “You can always ask me. Why are you dancing around me like we aren’t who we used to be?”
“Do you think we are?” She tilted her head and the light hit her skin in just the right way to make it glow.