stood outside the Plaid Kimono, yet another of Brooklyn’s fusion hipster bars that sprung up like weeds, and took a deep breath. She’d never been inside because she’d known since it opened about nine months earlier that Drew was a bartender there, and she hadn’t wanted to run into him. She and Samantha followed a group of guys in skinny jeans and cardigans inside and paused to look around.
Yep. It was exactly what she was expecting. Pub atmosphere, a dark and dim interior, expensive modern decor with a slight hint of Asian influence. There was a band playing at the very far end of the room and there was a plethora of flannel and beanies everywhere she looked. The servers were wearing kilts.
The thought of Drew in a kilt made her secretly just a little bit aroused. Okay, that was a lie. A lot aroused.
“There he is,” Samantha said, pointing. “He’s at the far end of the bar.”
“Don’t point!” she hissed at her friend, grabbing her finger. “That’s so obvious. Just be casual.” The wine was wearing off and she was nervous as hell.
“This isn’t like an accidental meeting. He knows you’re coming.” Samantha rolled her eyes and started toward the bar, weaving through the crowd.
There were no stools free, of course, because there were never any tables or chairs available anywhere. New York was crowded. It was something that still surprised Katrina sometimes even after six years of living there. So she tried to artfully lean on the three inches of bar top accessible between two groups of friends. Watching Drew move around behind the bar, shaking and mixing and washing, she fought the urge to sigh.
Back in the day, before the sex, she had spent a lot of time with Drew, hanging out in her dorm room or his, going to concerts, lying in the sun in Washington Square, and studying in the coffee shop. Seeing him, his head bent over as he rinsed glassware, made her realize how much she had missed him. Her heart squeezed.
Then she saw he was wearing a kilt, his muscular calves showing, and it was her vagina doing the squeezing. Holy amazeballs.
Was she drooling? She wiped the corner of her mouth, sure there was going to be saliva there.
Which was precisely when he looked up and saw her.
Their eyes met and held and he gave her a grin and a nod of acknowledgment. Moving down the bar toward her, he leaned forward and said, “Hi, Trina. Thanks for coming.”
Coming? She wished.
“Sure. Listen, Drew, I’m really sorry about the whole post. God, it was just so stupid and awful and this day has been hell. Just hell.” She felt her cheeks heat with an embarrassed blush.
He gave her a rueful look. “How does that even happen? Seriously.”
“I have no idea. All I know is that I single-handedly pissed off every guy I’ve ever dated and my mother has called me six times and left me a message suggesting I get STD testing.” She propped her head up with her palm and shook her head. “My mother thinks I’m a whore, I probably just ruined my business, and it’s possible than an actual sex tape would have been less mortifying.”
“Next weekend you can make a sex tape. You should have goals, you know.”
She gave him a long look. “Really? Thanks.”
He cracked a laugh. “Come on, it’s funny, you have to admit. But then again, you gave me a high ranking, so I have no complaints. You basically gave me an endorsement. Think of how much action I can get now.”
Lovely. Just what she didn’t want to imagine—him with a bevy of women wanting to test-drive his penis. “Excellent. I should charge you an advertising fee.”
Drew grinned. “How about I just get you a drink. What do you want?”
Him. “Pinot grigio.” One glass wouldn’t kill her.
He nodded and looked behind her. “Hey, Samantha. What can I get you?”
“I’ll have the same thing.”
“Coming right up.” He moved away and Katrina watched his plaid ass saunter off.
She didn’t feel better. Granted, she was relieved he wasn’t mad at her, but shouldn’t he be more...something? More curious? Instead he was just Mr. Casual. As if they hadn’t basically stopped speaking to each other for a year.
“He seems quite pleased with himself,” Samantha commented. “He just got the ego stroke of a lifetime.”
“It would seem.” She wasn’t exactly happy about it, either. He thought it was funny. Entertaining. She’d said she was in love with him and that seemed to have had zero effect on him. Fabulous.
When he came back with their wine, she was wondering why the hell she was in the noisy bar, getting pressed from all sides by purses and bodies angling for more space. Feeling exhausted and suddenly angry, she asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”
“I don’t want to get into it here. I’m done in half an hour. Can you hang out? We can go to my place.”
Was that a trick question? She searched his face for clues as to what that meant, but he just looked serious. There was no telling if it was a good serious or a bad serious. Taking a sip of her wine to stall, she swallowed and licked her lips. “I’m with Samantha.”
For a second she thought he looked disappointed, but maybe that was a delusion.
“Don’t worry about me. I’m going to grab a cab home soon. I have to work tomorrow.” Samantha gave her a smile. “Have fun.”
“Cool. Okay, let me get back to work.”
Katrina made a face at his retreating back. “What the hell does he want?” she asked Samantha. “I feel super stressed out. I’m sweating.”
But Samantha was looking at her cell screen. “OMG, look at this. I just got sent a suggestion to like a page called Drew’s Magnificent Penis Fan Page.” She showed Katrina the request.
“Oh, shit.” She groaned. “He’s going to kill me.”
“Maybe he started it.”
Now that would be ridiculous. They both burst out laughing.
“I’m sending you this,” Samantha said. “Look at the profile pic. It’s a cartoon penis. This is awesome.”
Katrina studied it, not nearly as amused as Samantha was. But even she had to admit that someone was creative. “The ‘About Me’ section says, ‘Looking for a lady locker to store my valuables. Have a license to kill memories of bad sex.’ Favorite song ‘Up All Night.’ Inspirational quote is ‘To handle yourself, use your head...,’ Eleanor Roosevelt.” Katrina looked up at Samantha. “Oh my God. Who do you think did this?”
“It had to be Jason. That has him written all over it.”
Katrina jumped when a hand slid across her lower back. Turning, prepared to tell off a douchebag, she closed her mouth when she realized it was Drew. “Oh, you scared me.”
“What
