After coming out of a disturbing relationship, a devastated Mallory decides she needs change, hoping a change of scenery and career will be the answer to mending her brokenness. But she finds herself right back where she started, falling for the wro...
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(Mark)
Dane
"Man, you're shooting like shit tonight!" My good buddy, Mark, exclaims while clapping me on the back.
Sadly, he's not wrong, I think to myself as I watch the wrong ball roll into the corner pocket. My pool game is usually spot on. Frustrated, I walk over to the small table and take a long drag from my beer bottle. Mark is eyeing his next move as he yells over the loud country music blaring from the bar's speaker system.
"So, what's going on? Another bad day with your old man?"
Mark and I have been friends since we were kids. There is nothing he doesn't know about me, so his question is a very logical one. My nine-to-five job is working with my father in his small town mechanic shop, and we, my father and I, butt heads more often than we get along. Ever since Mom died, he has become a bitter and hateful scrap of a man. He was never what I would call a loving, dotting father figure, but at least he acted like he gave a shit half of the time. Now, it's like nothing matters. I'm trying my best to keep the business afloat, but I feel like I'm drowning. There are bills that I find lying around that he hasn't paid. Vehicle parts that he's forgotten to order. So there are a lot of pissed off customers and bill collectors that I'm dealing with since he won't.
When I try to reason with him to find out what is going on, he rants at me until he is purple in the face. I almost hit him the last time we argued. He shoved me and screamed, 'What? You think you can do it better than me now, boy?' I had my fist reared back ready to do my worst when he smirked and whispered inches from my face, 'Go ahead, make your momma proud. ' And just like that, the anger dissipated, and in its place, a tight ball of sadness sat deep in my chest. I lowered my hand, looked at him with disgust, and said the truth. That he did need help, but I was done. I couldn't fix the mess he's made, and I was tired of trying. I pushed past him and headed to my second job at the gym, training UFC wannabes. Kickboxing not only helped me pay the bills, but it gave me an outlet to vent my built-up anger as well.
Mark nails his shot and straightens back up, looking at me expectantly.
"Nah, nothing more than the usual. We pretty much ignore each other anymore. "
"I'm sorry, man. I wish I could be of more help, but your dad is a hard ass. He refuses help from everyone, not just you. "
"I know. It is what it is. I appreciate that you tried. "
Mark is great with numbers and money. He's made bank over the last few years with some smart investments. He was kind enough to offer my dad some cash, but got the door slammed in his face.
"So, if it's not your dad, what else has got you in a funk? Too many lonely nights?"
I laugh off the jab at my bachelor life. He's still in the honeymoon stage of marriage to Liv and always boosting about the niceties of having a woman readily available whereas I go home most nights to sleep alone.
"Possibly. It's been a week since Natasha offered me some comfort. "
"Well, that's an easy fix," he says while looking around the bar. "How about her? The pretty little red head. I've seen her look your way more than once tonight. "
I look in the direction he's indicated and my eyes make contact with the girl in question. Her stare doesn't waiver, and a slow seductive smile creeps across her fair face.
"Now that, my friend, looks like an invitation," Mark states with a chuckle and swigs his beer.
I consider her for a moment, holding her gaze. She's cute enough and seems to have a fiery personality to go with her hair. Definitely not shy, as I watch her suck the olive off the toothpick that was in her martini. I know how to play this game well enough, so I grab my pool stick and go back to figuring out my next move to prevent Mark from taking too much of a lead on me.
"She looks pissed that you blew her off, " Mark comments with a twinkle in his eyes. He might be married, but I know that he misses the chase. Now he has to live it out through me, I smirk to myself.
"Oh, yeah?" I question nonchalantly and lean over the table preparing to take my shot.
"Wait, She's getting up!" Mark sounds as giddy as a school girl, "and she's heading over this way!" He exclaims as I sink the solid red ball in the left corner pocket just as I had intended to.
