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July16, 2013
Doll is back.
KenRyan
Kaminski didnt have to look to see who
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their phones than actually talking to people, and wearing beautiful tailor-made suits that clung just right to
their bodies while they did it.
But they were not nearly as interesting as Ken Doll.
Because Ken Doll was just so damn pretty.
His blond hair had a slight curl to it, just enough that
you knew it probably made him crazy. Piercing blue
eyes. Like theyd been computer enhanced, thats how
blue they were. In the soft, smooth plane of one cheek
there was a dimpleshed only seen it by accident when
he smiled at a woman who asked to take the bar stool
to his left the other day. But the real kickerthe
show-stopperwas how he moved, efficient and graceful, like there was simply no time to waste, because he
was A Man Who Got Things Done.
Watching him unbutton his jacket before sitting down
was like watching a mission statement. A planted flag.
Gravitas.
Thats what Ken Doll had that every other man in this
bar was lacking.
But tonight he didnt have his phones out. He sat
there, hands pressed flat against the mahogany bar, as
the raindrops caught in his blond hair gleamed red and
blue under the moody lights. He was wearing a University of Georgia Bulldogs tee shirt under which his shoulders... oh, that slump, it told a very sad story indeed.
Ryan poured the martini into the chilled glass,
took a twist off the fresh lemon behind the bar, and
put the glass on a napkin before sliding the drink over
to the woman whod ordered it and collecting the twenty
the woman had left on the bar.
These meaningless transactions made up her life.
Over and over again.
I want to ease Ken Dolls pain. Lindsey didnt even
pretend not to watch Ken Doll while pulling a draft for
one of the guys working the couches. Like. Really.
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Yep.
And Bruce Dinkle paid you to kick him in the balls?
He did. We bought some ice cream, and it felt like
we were on top of the world.
His laughter faded and then the smile vanished, and
then the weight of the world was rolled back up on his
shoulders.
She leaned against the bar and crossed her arms over
her chest, well aware that her breasts nearly spilled
from the vest she wore, but Harrys eye didnt wander.
They stayed glued to hers as if he didnt even see the
body beneath her chin. Okay, you sad sack. Tell me.
Who is your best not good enough for? A wife?
No wife.
Girlfriend?
He shook his head, and she would be lying if she
didnt say she was relieved.
A boss?
Ive never had a boss.
No boss? What planet is this guy from?
Then who, my friend, is making you feel this way?
Why? He smiled at her, looser than hed been,
but not yet totally unwound. The guy could hold his
booze; shed give him that. You going to give them a
talking-to?
I just might.
What would you say?
I would probably say, listen... She paused, waiting for him to fill in the blank.
He shook his head, that blond hair gleaming red
and then blue under the lights. Im afraid its...
complicated.
Gary, her manager, glanced over from across the
room, and Ryan reached for some unprepped garnishes
under the bar and made a good show of stripping mint
leaves off the stem for mojitos. Give me the gist. You
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dont have to spill state secrets, but you might feel better
getting some of this off your chest.
You an expert on that too?
Im a bartender, Harry. I am an expert on lots of
things. She chucked the mint stem into the trash under
the bar. Lay your burdens down, my friend.
Its my sister. Shes in trouble.
Ah, oddly enough, this is a subject in which I have
plenty of experience.
You have a sister who gets in trouble?
I am the sister who gets in trouble. Something
buzzed up the back of her neck. A warning to shut her
mouth and walk on, perhaps send Lindsey over. But she
ignored it, despite having gotten so much better at heeding those internal warnings. She grabbed more mint
just so shed have something to do with her hands.
So, is she in big trouble or little trouble? Like if one
is dating a jerk and ten is living on the streets, where
does she fall?
She isnt even on that spectrum. Something in his
voice made her realize the jokes were soon to become
offensive. That there was no part of this he was going to
find funny. And funny was a huge part of her armor.
And without her armor she was just vulnerable and
sympathetictwo things that had gotten her in more
than her fair share of trouble.
Leave, she thought. Switch sides with Lindsey. Forget about Sad Ken Doll.
But that was impossible. His anger and grief were
magnetic.
She put down the mint.
Im so sorry, Harry, she told him sincerely.
Its fine. His smile revealed the dimple, and for a
moment she was distracted enough not to realize he was
lying. But she had been a bartender for over a decade
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and she could smell a lie a mile away. And whatever the
situation was with his sister, it was far from fine.
Thats what youve been working on for the last few
days. With the phones? Trying to help your sister?
I couldnt stare at the walls of my room anymore.
All day, every day, trying...
He sighed, pushing away the plate with the half-eaten
chicken on it. For a moment Ryan thought he was going
to walk out; he was coiled, poised to just vanish.
And that would be for the best, she thought. For her.
Maybe for him. Because the last thing he probably needed
was a sister in trouble and a hangover in the morning.
And the last thing she needed was this compassion
this empathy and curiosity, the rusted guts of her
desiremaking her decisions for her.
But then he relaxed back into his chair. Back into the
moment with her.
She exhaled the breath she hadnt realized shed been
holding.
Not that its done much good. I dont know if Im
going to be able to help her.
There was an invisible barrier down the middle of the
bar. This one and every other upscale bar in the five
boroughs. The barrier was well documented not only in
The Cobalt Bar employee handbook, but also in her
own rule book: no fraternizing with the drinkers. A lesson shed learned twice the hard way.
But she shoved her fist right through that barrier and
put her hand over his. To her surprise, he grabbed her
fingers and held them tight in his, like a lifeline he was
terribly in need of.
Shes... shes my baby sister. And she hasnt needed
anything from me in so long and now... now that she
does, now that she really needs me, I might not be able
to help her. Its killing me.
Everything, the empathy and the desire and the shock
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tered, made her feel stupid for reaching across the barrier.
The rules were in place for a reason, after all.
Ryan! Lindsey said. A little help?
Ryan turned to see Lindsey inundated with gray-suited
Wall Street types, so she gave Harry a quick smile and
headed over to help her.
Getting a little cozy, arent you? Lindsey asked, her
eyes twinkling. She was a good sport, Lindsey. As long
as someone had the chance to get lucky, she was happy.
Hes a nice guy.
They always are. But listen. She jerked his chin
across the bar where their manager, Gary, was talking
to a few of the regulars in the corner. Garys watching
you, so just be careful. He fired Will last month for
going home with that crazy bitch from Saks.
As if he heard, Gary looked over. Gary was a nice
enough guy, but the rules were pretty ironclad and he
could lose his job for ignoring them.
The rush at the bar lasted a good hour and finally
around ten p.m. slowed down to a trickle. Lindsey sent
out another martini, a watermelon margarita, and three
more Coronas and checked her watch. Its cutting
time, she said.
Youve been here since three, Ryan said, because
the first one in was usually the first one to go home unless they were working a double. She set dirty glassware
under the bar in the gray bins and then handed them to
Sam, who was heading back to the kitchen.
Grab me some lemons, would you? And more mint
and more thyme. Thanks.
Sam, a notorious flirt, winked at her, taking the bins
with him.
Yeah, but I dont have a hot guy at the end of the bar
waiting for me, Lindsey said.
Ryan looked over her shoulder to where Harry sat,
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in his eyes, the beautiful symmetry of his body, the delicious humanity of his grief.
Without a second thought, she slipped the condom in
her own pocket.
Thanks, Linds, she said.
No problem. She wiggled her butt while Ryan
tucked the twenty back in her pocket.
An asshole at the bar whistled.
Oh, you wish, buddy, Lindsey said.
Hey, the guy said, leaning across the bar toward
Ryan. You look really familiar to me.
Because you were in here last week.
No... My friend, he jerked his thumb over his
shoulder, vaguely referencing one of the other guys in
suits with manicured hands behind him. He says you
were the Lips Girl like fifteen years ago. Is that true?
Can you do the thing? The slogan
Your friend is wrong, she lied, and dismissed the
guy by turning her back on him. There were bigger
things on her horizon than trying to put a shine on ancient history.
Ryan walked over to Harry and picked up his plate of
half-eaten dinner.
No wife? she asked. No girlfriend? No woman
waiting at home for you? Dont bother lyingIll be
able to tell.
He shook his head.
Are you gay?
That made him smile, and again she felt that little
spike of pleasure. Of a job well done. Im not gay, and
no one is waiting for me, Ryan.
Are you staying at the hotel? she asked.
His burning blue eyes met hers, and there was no confusion; he knew what she was asking.
I am.
Im getting off in about fifteen minutes.
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Order
Now
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