CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

JAMESON:

Present day…

The group of college kids made the bar seem more crowded than it was. Their tinkling laughter and loud guffaws occupied the small space and made the somewhat somber area come alive.

There were plenty of empty seats at the bar top and the tables beyond. Instead, I waited until my stool became available.

The stool I'd sat on when Vegas had tapped me on the shoulder.

A woman, blond with an athletic body—Shelia's carbon copy—occupied my seat. I ordered a drink and retreated to the shadows, sipping my martini slowly until she left. I hoped it would be before Axel arrived. He'd give me hell if he caught me waiting for a chair when any old one would do.

What could I say? My unique rules of conformity made me a creature of habit. I gravitated to places that held fond memories and avoided those that maimed my spirit. Shelia had made many a place I'd held dear off limits in her quest to destroy our relationship.

It was a tragedy in two acts.

The foreshore hosted our first fight shortly after our honeymoon—a real verbal knockdown drag-out over her, finally coming clean and admitting she'd laughed at "my goofiness" when I'd asked her out the first time. Apparently, she could only tell the truth after I'd put a ring on it.

It was the beginning of the end.

Then there was The Art Institute fundraiser where I, along with a group of our mutual friends who were helping me look for her, caught my then wife and her resident doctor in a compromising position.

The final curtain.

Needless to say, I didn't go back to those tainted places, no matter how much I missed them. The city I loved had grown smaller because of it.

Pity, that.

The Near Shelia drained her drink, threw some money on the bar. She hopped from her seat, tapping furiously on the keys of her phone. At the door, she nearly collided with Axel who'd finally shown up. He steadied her with an outstretched arm. 

Winding through the crowd of kids, I watched Axel and Near Shelia interact on my way to the bar. She looked up from her phone and blushed under Axel's gaze. The woman tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear and spoke a few words. She then tilted her head towards the door. Axel looked around, saw me, and jerked a thumb in my direction. I settled in her still warm chair while her dark eyes swept over me appreciatively. She bent towards Axel, her pink glossed lips moving in consonants and vowels. He laughed at whatever she'd said. I was the first time I'd heard him do so in several weeks.

A genuine miracle.

Look-a-like Shelia stared after him a moment, her face resigned. Turning, she once again she focused on her phone, the keys suffering under her wrath as she walked out the door.

"What was that all about?" I asked. Axel shifted onto the stool on my right and eyed the drink in my hand.

"A martini night, huh? I'm going for something harder than that." He motioned to the bartender, two fingers in the air. Once his double of Scotch was in his hand, he answered my question. "She wanted to know if I was meeting someone. I told her I had a date with my partner and let her draw her own conclusions." He drained his glass, leaving the two cubes of ice with no liquid to cool. "I had to laugh when she said, 'All the hot ones are gay.’"

"Well, I know I'm hot, but you look like shit, Axel."

"I've been working from home, you prick, and why the fuck I need to make myself pretty to have my weekly drink with you is beyond my comprehension." He pulled at his oversized gray foodie and matching sweatpants with a hole at the knee. Then signaled for a refill for himself and another drink for me.

It looked like we were going to have one of those nights. I indulged occasionally, but with Axel it was becoming routine.

 Yeah, my brother had been steadily going downhill. He always gave a variation of the same excuse of why he'd show up looking like he slept on the streets instead of the billionaire he'd become. Still ripped... but those that gave him a cursory glance wouldn't know by looking at him. His face was gaunt... hollow, as if all the life had slipped from his features and dissipated into the air. The chinstrap beard had grown over the last month and had become a mass of scraggly hair.

I didn't need to address his fall from grace, I already knew the reason — Shondra Williams.

We'd met up the day after the Baker's party with the aim to confess our secrets. In this very bar on the stool I considered mine, I told him all about Vegas, and he laid out his tale of Shondra. By the time finished our heart to heart, a nearly empty bottle of Glenlivet stood between us.

Since the Baker's, Axel hadn't seen Sho at any party, soiree or function, and the poor bastard was beside himself. Axel couldn't easily gotten his fix by going to her office, but he was too afraid of rejection—just like me.

I'd wrestled with myself on whether or not to contact Vee when I learned she worked with Shelia. I was on the phone with Axel, Shelia banging on the window to give me further instructions I didn't care to hear when I glanced in my rear-view mirror. Vee's feline eyes locked on mine and the world tilted.

A moment later she rushed from the car. Her dark blue scrubs, the kind the residents wore, filtered through my brain. She worked at St. Vincent's, the same hospital as Shelia.

I called the front desk, pretending to be an administrator, and asked where Vee worked. Utter terror gripped me when the girl on the other end chirped rather cheerily that Vee worked under my ex.

Shelia would ruin Vee for even looking in my direction. I shuddered to think what she would do if she learned we slept together.

It didn't bear thinking about.

So, I kept my distance from Vegas even though I watched her being dropped off by her ambiance. They days I didn't take Shelia, I went all the same, hiding in my car, perched over the steering wheel hoping to catch a better glimpse of her. I turned my head when Terrance kissed her cheek, my heart hammering in my chest, fist clenched.

Axel and I were both afraid of facing the music of our actions. I'd shut Vee down when she was trying to prove her innocence while Axel deprecated Shondra at every turn. We let our women down in every way imaginable, and in our reckoning, we didn't deserve a second chance.

Besides, Vee was with her ambiance, and Shondra was dating Tony. The information had come via many a mutual friend that things were getting serious.

The bartender, a tall African American with a perfect fade and a winsome smile, broke off his condo with an attractive co-ed to collect our glasses. "Another round?"

I nodded, but Axel said, "I want to try something else." He tapped his chin. "George. Give me a—hey do you have those little umbrellas?" At George's nod, Axel said, "Then give me Pica accolade with a pink umbrella and keep them coming." Axel slapped a hundred on the wooden bar top, making the guy next to me jump. George laughed and made the bill disappear before it settled.

According to Axel, a Pica accolade was Shondra's favorite drink. On the night of our confessions, Axel said he often caught her at parties, twirling the umbrella from her drink as her eyes rested on him.

"So, what's new in your world, Jameson?"

"Shelia is off to a conference until Sunday."

Axel lifted a brow, "And?"