51

51
Betty.

“I hate you!” The girl across from me bawled at her boyfriend.

From their argument, I’d learnt he was cheating on her with her best friend, a blonde who did nothing but infuriate the girlfriend.
It was as if I was watching a TV show. 
I sat alone at the bar close to the counter half listening to the sad song playing in the background, and also straining to pay attention to the scene unfolding just a few tables away.
I lifted the glass of vodka to my lips and gulped it, the amber liquid burning its way down my throat. 

Damn, this  fucking liquor, making me wince at every swallow but I loved it, at least it made me feel something anything else than loneliness and …. Sadness. 
“It’s over between us! I hate both of you!” The girl shrieked before storming out of the bar.
 And guess what happened next? The best friend kissed the boyfriend on the lips right there, so passionately, like they weren’t in a public place.
 My life might be horrible and shitty but at least I wasn’t sleeping with Dave,  my best friend’s husband.
I smoothed down the light pink wig I wore and let out a heavy sigh. I  still couldn't believe I was back to wearing a disguise to hide the fact that I was a professor in a highly esteemed college.  Ever since I kissed Michael at the restroom in that club I didn’t know I’d be back here again, at least not so soon.
 Well, it's a good thing no one here recognized me, they couldn’t, under these false lashes and outrageous makeup. I was only here to let out some steam.  I just wanted to be Betty tonight, not Professor Betty.
I scoffed, taking a sip again. I batted my lashes at a few thirsty men who were trying so hard to grab my attention.

But it wasn’t them I wanted, it was Michael. 

But how could he ever want me back, after all I’d told him I felt nothing for him?

Damn, I should have been gentler or maybe explained in a way that would have validated both of us. But I had to dismiss him, if I didn’t, he would have listened and I would have given in to his seductions which would mean me playing right into Adam’s trap.

I took another sip remembering that night at the bookstore. The most romantic moment ever. How he read out my own words, or how he groped my ass not caring if anyone passed, his hands all over my body, kissing me so intimately I almost melted in his embrace…
I wanted that to happen again. 

But I couldn’t risk it.

The bartender cleared his throat, jolting me out of reverie. “ Hey, do you want another drink? Your glass is almost finished.”

I looked up to see the man, maybe in his mid-twenties, with hazelnut hair tousled in a sexy way. He had a grin spread across his chiseled face as he leaned closer revealing his bicep. 
I swallowed hard, “ Sure! I want more vodka. With a mix of mocktails.”
He nodded, and the smile remained on his face like it was permanent. “You have such a good sense of style.”

“What?”
“The wig, it suits you.”
“Thank you, but why do you think it is a wig?”

He lifted his shoulders with a grin, pouring. “It doesn't matter, ma'am. It still suits you.”

I let out a scoff sliding the glass to my side, downing it like it was regular beer. “You are weird.”
He chuckles. “Helps with the job.”
“Hmmm, bet it does.”

“You seem new….” he said,  wiping a few glasses with a towel.
“None of your business.”

“I see… of course.”
“You are a fast learner.
He winked. “Helps with the job.”

I glanced down at my phone on the counter. It was dry. No new messages, not even a missed call, of course, Michael wasn't going to text me, I've pushed him away enough.

Now it’s time to practice what I preached and move on.

Still, I couldn’t help but stare at the phone hoping he would mistakenly call.  But he didn’t. 
“You know what? bring in more shots.” I chortled. 
 “Coming right up.”
After a few minutes, he turned with a full set of shot bottles, sliding them towards me. “Mind if I join?”
It was a weird request but I think I’ve had more than enough drinks for tonight. “Yeah, sure!”

He took his shot, “So why are you here, alone?”
“Is it a crime?”
“No, so tell me, married?”
I almost laughed. “Why?”
“Because married women are the ones who usually don’t get seduced by me.”
I giggled sheepishly, slightly drunk now. “Oh! He is bold!”
“No, I’m just honest.” He chuckled. “So, are you?”

“What do you think?” I said, showing him my empty fingers.
“Lucky me, then!” He winked at me again, and I rolled my eyes, “You’ve got quite the imagination, to think I’d agree to be your girl.”
“You are right, but you are also pretty.”
“Cut the crap!” I avowed.
“Did I offend you?”

“Stop flirting with your customers, your boss is gonna sack your ass!”
He laughed softly. “ I own the bar.”

“Good for you!”
I reached into the silver purse, pulled out a dollar bill, and tossed it to the counter.
“You can keep the change,” I said as I rose to my feet.
“Ma'am, I’m sorry…”
But I’d already walked into the restroom.

The mirror was cracked and foggy but enough to see my reflection. 
“I’m a mess…” I muttered turning on the sink, splashing cold water all over my face, my makeup was ruined now.
I grabbed a towel to wipe my face clean. I yanked off the wig too, revealing any real long auburn hair that clung to my damn forehead.
I pressed my hands against the sink breathing hard, thinking of the next thing to do. Do I continue drinking or do I just hail a cab and go home straight to my bed? 
But then, I wouldn’t be the woman Adam wanted me to be, I’d be free and not afraid of being seen. I was tired of his misogyny anyway.
When I stepped out, I was hardly recognizable.
The bartender's jaw dropped when he saw me, so I walked straight up to him. Smiling.  

“Your wig….”
“You wanna get out of here?” I asked, winking.

He nods, “Oh… yeah sure… Miranda! Take over…”

“Perfect!” I breathed,  “Catch me outside!”


I wrapped my arms around myself as the night air made goosebumps grow on my skin.  The street lights reflected on my face.  

I had no idea what I was doing waiting for a man I barely knew outside on the pavement, burning a cigarette, but then it was better than staying in, lonely and regretting I hadn’t turned away Michael.
A few seconds later, I heard a soft thud of boots.

“Hi… lady… didn’t think you’d actually wait.” He said standing a few feet away.
I breathe out the smoke. “You talk too much, come here.” 

He grabbed me by the waist in an attempt to kiss me yet I stopped him.
“You are really handsome but I don’t know your name,” I said.
He chuckled, “I’m Christian… single and searching.”
He didn’t even bother to ask for mine; he just reached for my face, driving his tongue in my moist mouth.

The kiss was a mix of smoke and alcohol. Messy and chaotic. I let him grab my ass and kiss me just like how Michael did, I let him do what he wanted with my body but then something stirred inside of me.
I shouldn’t be doing this. 
He wasn’t Michael. He would never be.
“Stop… I can’t…. I’m drunk.” I pushed him away trembling.

“No… You aren’t, you just had a few shots, you meant what you said at the bar.”

“Well, I don’t want to anymore.”

But he didn’t stop, he grabbed me close again, this time rougher. Forcing me to kiss him. “I know you want it, you don’t have to act hard to get.”
“Let me go!” I yelled.
CRASH!
It was the sound of glass crashing against the bartender's head.
He stumbled backward clutching his bloodied head. But that wasn’t enough, I saw the crack of a fist before I saw who it was.

“Stay away from her, you pervert!”
Oh my God.

It was Michael.

He had saved me, he stood there, his chest rising up and down like he had just run a thousand miles, his eyes shining with rage.
“What the heck man?” The bartender yelled, falling to his knees.
Michael didn’t even spare him a glance, his gaze was locked on me. Like I was the only one that mattered in the world.

“Are you okay?” He asked.