Blame It On The Pain Episode 41
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🧏 Blame It On The Pain FORTY ONE:
(Alyssa)
“I need a glass of ¢oke and a splash of jack.”
I wink at my customer. “Ah. You take your whiskey like I take my coffee. Cup of cream and sugar and a splash of coffee.”
He looks embarrassed. “I guess that makes me sound like less of a man, huh?”
I wave a hand at him and continue fixing his drink. “Nah. You gotta do what’s right for you. Don’t ever let anyone tell you different.”
He leans in. “And what if I told you that getting your number would be what’s right for me?”
BLAME IT ON THE PAIN : EPISODE 41 – 50. Thingscouplesdo
Somewhere in back of me, someone clears their throat. “I would say that what’s right for me…is pun¢hing you in the face for hi tting on my girl.”
My customer quickly leaves after that.
I roll my eyes and look up at my friend. “What the h’ll, Shane?” I nod my head in the direction of the cute musician who hasn’t stopped looking at Shane since his shift started.
“Your boyfriend is sitting right over there watching you.”
He flips a bottle in the air. “I know. I’m wearing the jeans that make my as s look great.”
He begins filling the glass in front of him. “I thought I’d run interference. Besides, I said my girl. Not girlfriend.
If he was really interested in you for more than one night, he would have clarified.” He shrugs. “Guy looked like a douche anyway. ”
I shake my head. “You’re ¢razy.”
He purses his lips. “Yeah, but you love me.”
I smile because I can honestly say that I do. Shane gave me a job when no one else would.
Not only did he hire me, but he also lets me rent the apartment upstairs from the bar.
And when I had a full blown panic attack over possibly being recognized that first night…he wiped my tears away and suggested we dye my hair.
He didn’t judge me when I told him about the video and he never uses my real name around customers.
I toss my long dark hair over my shoulder and kss his cheek. “Call me if it gets packed. You know where I’ll be.”
He laughs. “It won’t now that you’re off the clock. But I’ll call you anyway.”
I walk around the bar and head upstairs to my studio apartment.
A lot has changed over the last three months.
For starters…I no longer visit the city. I live here now. I moved out of my father’s house two weeks after the last night I saw Ford.
I used the money I got from selling Ford’s BMW which was apparently equipped with a hidden gps tracking device to help me move.
That’s how he knew I spent the night at Jackson’s.
Jackson.
TO Be Continued
