“You sound like you’ve had more than enough already.”
“Ugh! You sound like the cute bartender.”
“Cute bartender?”
“Yep. He’s lovely. He’s been giving me lots of drinks. And he has really nice arms. They’re not as nice as your arms though. Your arms are the best. Really muscular. And your skin reminds me of caramel—oh, I’m hungry now. I could just eat—”
“Daisy—”
“A Cadbury Caramel. And the cute bartender is sweet. He’s gone to get me a coffee, and then we’re going to get to know one another.”
“What do you mean, you’re going to get to know one another?” His voice is like granite.
“I dunno. But he’s nice. You’re nice sometimes—well, rarely.” I snort. “I mean, you act like a Kas-hole pretty much all the time. But you’re nice sometimes, and it’s nice when you are nice, you know what I mean? Because there’s only Ce who’s nice to me. But the cute bartender is nice. So, yeah, that’s cool. Did I tell you that my baby brother hates me?” I laugh, but I hear the pain in my voice loud and clear. “He’s like my kid. I raised him, and he actually hates me. More than you do, I think. Unless you wish I were dead ’cause he wishes I were dead. So, if you wish I were dead, then you probably hate me more.”
I pause to take a breath. Instead, a sob falls from my mouth.
“Shit…Daisy…” Kas’s voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it.
I feel that softness touch me. It touches that pain in my chest and soothes it a little.
“Tell me where you are.” His voice is still gentle, but this time, I don’t feel better. I feel something break deep inside me.
I hold that crack together. But more tears track down my face. I grab that screwed up napkin and wipe my face again.
Then, I see Cute Bartender coming back with my coffee, so I pretend all is okay, and I force a big smile at him.
“Daisy?” Kas says my name, a little sterner this time.
“I’m still here. Just wait a sec.” Keeping the phone to my ear, I move the mouthpiece away from my mouth, and I speak to the bartender, “I meant to call my friend, Cece, but I somehow called my boss—you know, the one who hates me. Well, he wants to know which bar I’m in, but I’m not sure what this bar’s called, and I thought you would know. Do you know?”
Dur! Of course he knows, dummy.
Cute Bartender chuckles as he puts the cup of coffee down in front of me. “The Nelson.”
I move the mouthpiece back to my mouth. “I’m in The Nelson,” I repeat to Kas.
“And where exactly is The Nelson?” He sounds really pissed off.
This is the Kas I know. I feel more comfortable that he’s being pissy with me. It’s weird when he’s nice.
I tip the mouthpiece away again. “He wants to know whereabouts The Nelson is? He sounds really pissed off,” I whisper-giggle.
“I am really pissed off,” Kas growls in my ear.
“You’re really bloody grumpy, you know that?” I tell Kas.
“Yeah, and you’re a monumental pain in my arse,” he fires back.
“We’re in Camden,” Cute Bartender tells me.
But I only half-hear what he said because I’m too focused on what Kas just said, and it’s ignited a fire in my belly.
“Um, I’m a pain in your arse? Er, hello, Mr. Pot Kettle Black! You’re mean to me every single day! Like, every day! And not just marginally mean. You’re, like, high-level mean! Meanest of the highest level ever! I’ve never had someone be so horrible to me as you are. So, if anyone is a pain in the arse, then it’s you!”
My rant over, the line goes deathly silent.
Shit.
I just reamed out my boss over the phone. I drunk-dialed him and yelled at him and called him a pain in the arse.
Fuck.
“Am I…fired?” I ask quietly.
“Tell me exactly where the fuck this bar is.” His voice is low, deadly.
I’m so fired.
“Camden.” I wince.
“Stay exactly where you are. I’m coming to get you.”
“You are?” That takes me aback. It probably shouldn’t, as he’s been asking where I am for the last few minutes. I guess I just never thought he’d put himself out for me.
“I might be a Kas-hole—as you put it”—Shit! I can’t believe I called him a Kas-hole to his face—“but I’m not the kind of arsehole who would leave a vulnerable, drunk girl in a bar alone.”
“I’m not alone. I’m with the cute bartender—”
“Exactly. Stay right where you are. Don’t fucking move, Daisy. And tell that bartender, if he puts a hand on you, I’ll rip it off.”
Okay…
Is it weird that I found that totally hot?
“Kas…”
“What?” he snaps.
“What if I need the toilet? I’ll have to move—”
“I said, stay the fuck put. I’ll be there soon.” Then, he hangs the phone up on me.
Moving the phone from my ear, I stare at it, bewildered.
“Um…he’s coming to get me,” I tell the cute bartender as I lower my phone to the bar. “He said something about ripping your hand off. And…I think I might be fired.”
“Daisy.”
I feel a hand touch my shoulder.