The Games We Play

Chapter 1

The bar was packed with stiff back businessmen entertaining women that were probably much younger than their wives and I entertained myself by making them blush when I brought them their drinks.
"Here you are Mr. & Mrs Strindberg," I said smiling at a lady who made it obvious she was not Mrs. Strindberg. She smiled weakly but couldn't make her eyes meet mine. Drew, my manager caught my gaze on the way back and sighed disapprovingly.
"What have I told you about being petty with the guests?" he asked playfully.
"Got to find some way to pass the time," I remarked, "Maybe people shouldn't make themselves so easy to read."
"And you should put more focus on swiping the card than reading the name on it. You're going to screw up a relationship someday, you know?"

"It's already screwed, isn't it," I said, tilting my head back toward Mr. Strindberg and Mrs. Not Strindberg.
"Not our business," he said in a sing-song tone, "make sure you have these glasses cleared out before your shift is over."
"Fine," I said. Caleb would have gladly spent the night cracking jokes with me about the misfit pair. Mr. Strindberg, a balding lawyer in his fifties kept eye contact with Mrs. Not Strindberg's breast, not caring (or not noticing) that she'd cost him a hundred dollars in champagne. Paying for his luck, is what Caleb would have called it.

He would have added an interesting factor in tonight's flock of cuckolds with his sharp jawline and playful grin that made him an accidental flirt -- or at least that's what he called it. But no, tonight he was probably stuffing that smirk with pizza over Call of Duty or whatever it was college boys like him did in their spare time. Maybe he was approaching the bar now, sitting next to a beautiful girl.

No but really -- he was. The dim lighting and indie rock turned them into a Hollister ad. Her curls brushed against her small shoulders in a lavender slip dress that left little to the imagination. He was grinning like the homecoming king in his stupid tight v-neck. And of course they sat directly in front of me. Leaving me with little to distract myself with, I took the drink orders of my crush and his date.

*********************

"This can't be the only bar in town," the girl behind the bar remarked dryly, her gaze lingering on Caleb but then again I couldn't blame her. They carried a small banter that told me that they worked together often and were friends.
"No but it's the only bar that doesn't have a last call policy," he grinned proudly.
"Don't be so sure. You kids, ready to pick your poison."
"A coke and rum. And for the lady..."
"An old fashion." I said. Caleb and I locked eyes, challenging one another.
"Were you about to order for me?"
"It seemed way cooler in my head," he said shyly.
He pushed his hair back, soft waves framing up sharp angles. His coworker was watching us so hard that she overpoured the whiskey. She hissed a foul word and broke her glance. Poor thing.
"So what do you do here exactly?" I asked.
"I'm pretty much a jack of all trades. I fill in where I'm needed. The bar, the pool, reception," he trailed off.
"That sounds fun," I lied.
"No, it doesn't," he said, shaking his head.
"Well there's gotta be something cool about it. You see tons of people all day. That's exciting," I coaxed.
"Nah, not really," he turned back to look at the table behind us where an older man was sitting with his trophy wife. "Well... there is one thing." He gestured for me to lean into him.
"I'm really good at reading people," he whispered into my ear.
"Oh," I said curiously wondering which way the conversation would go from here. I sat up defensively. He seemed not to notice.
"I mean, I guess it's not that interesting," he said. The girl was back with our drinks. "Thanks, Riley," he dismissed her.
"No, do tell," I said.
"Okay so, the blonde and that lawyer type. Don't ask. We get a lot of those here for some reason. He's clearly cheating on his wife. He knows the game. He's never been here before. He knows to never go to the same place twice. But the girl, see how she keeps looking over her shoulder and jumping whenever Riley goes to check on them?"