Somewhere: Book 2 of the Nowhere Trilogy

3. Blowin' in the Wind

How many times can a man turn his head and pretend that he just doesn't see? - Bob Dylan

8:14 p.m. Saturday, October 2, 2021

It's technically not a date. Most likely, Harry asked her because he's new in town and doesn't know many people. He's not picking her up. Nor will he be walking her home. Therefore, it most definitely is NOT a date.

All of this runs through her head as Michele stares at her wardrobe wondering what one wears to meet a celebrity at the local bar. Blindly reaching out, she snags an oversized Bob Dylan 2018 tour t-shirt. With a shrug, she pulls it over her head. Pairing it with her newest high-waisted skinny jeans, she half-tucks the shirt in front, leaving the sides and back loose. Rolling up the cuffs of her jeans, she dons her cute ankle boots that she rarely wears around town. With a glance in the mirror, Michele decides she's trying too hard.

It's not a date, she reminds herself.

Changing into her sneakers and then back to her boots three times, she glances at the clock, frantically noticing that it's 8:28. Holy macaroni. She's just going to have to go with the current look which is her tennis shoes. Scrambling to put on mascara and lip gloss, Michele arranges her long curly hair into a high ponytail.

Quickly snagging her caramel cardigan, she races out the door and across the street to Ballz, arriving a fashionable four and a half minutes late.

"Need your ID, Michele," Maxine demands at the door.

"Seriously, Max?" Exasperated, Michele digs through her purse to find her driver's license, sure that she must have thrown it in when she switched bags to this smaller one for tonight.

"Your sister-in-law insists that we check IDs of everyone after hours," the schoolteacher reveals. "Guess she's worried she'll get in trouble with Sheriff Niki."

Michele snorts. Sheriff Niki upholds the laws she chooses depending on her mood. She's been in a better frame of mind lately, letting all kinds of stuff slide now that her love life seems to be on track.

"I'm going to have to go home and get it," Michele whines, "It must be in my other purse."

Maxine glances left, then right surreptitiously.

==========

8:41 p.m. Saturday, October 2, 2021

Well he should have known she wasn't going to show. After all, she'd been reluctant to agree in the first place. Harry decides to abandon the table he'd been holding for the two of them. Glancing around the room, he seeks any familiar face, but the current clientele at Ballz is younger than the owners of businesses he's met and older than the Ps he's been hanging with. Apparently word hasn't reached this group that it's acceptable for them to acknowledge Harry because no one has made eye contact with him since he arrived around 8:20.

Perhaps he should head back to the inn. After all, this was never a date. Not technically anyway. It was just two acquaintances meeting to have some fun on a Saturday night. Back at the inn, he has a new Rob Sheffield he wants to dive into. Time to adjust the plan. Looking at his watch, he decides she's not planning to show. He's been stood up. Guess there's a first time for everything. Standing, he finishes the last of his club soda. Placing the glass back on the table, he turns and nearly bumps into her.

"Hi," she breathes, the alcohol fumes on her breath enough to start a fire. Her shirt is tight across her bosom, and Harry staggers backwards to avoid accidentally brushing her boob.

"Tonya," he replies, "Wasn't expecting to see you tonight."

"You looked like you were waiting for someone, so I assumed it must be me," she steps closer to Harry, this time purposely rubbing her breast on his arm. "Wanna dance?" Trailing her fingers down his arm, she attempts to grab his hand.