Page 22 of Chasing Blue

“Fucking hell, what did he do?” I ask, letting out a long breath and not really wanting to know the answer.

“I’ll make you something special.” Anth raps his knuckles on the bar top and aims a small smile my way before turning away.

I turn back to Spangles, his arms folded on the bar as he leans into them, brown eyes on me.

“Tell me, Span, I’m done with the bloke, he just doesn’t wanna take no for an answer, and I thought face to face might help get my point across rather than doing it via text or a phone call.”

I watch as he strokes at his silver beard, the rings on his fingers sparkling as the light from the chandelier above us catches them. My eyes then travel across his handsome face.

Somewhere in his late fifties, Span is the ultimate silver fox. Olive complexion, grey eyes, fresh fade but long on top silver hair, and full beard, his face alone is enough to have both the men and women falling over themselves to get his attention. Add to that the perfectly toned body, ink-covered arms, and charming personality, it isn’t any wonder at all his bar is one of the busiest on the peninsula.

“He came in here the other night, about a week or so ago,” Span starts.

“Yeah, with me.” We’d met at Spangles for a drink before going for dinner on the night I’d tried to end things.

Span shakes his head.

“After that?” I question, and he nods. My stomach drops and tightens. My mouth instantly feels dry.

“He came back on his own, after, I assume, he’d taken you home.”

“Vodka or gin base?” Anth calls out.

“Both,” Span and I say in unison.

“What happened? Wait. Do I need my drink first?”

Span lifts his chin towards Marcell, one of his barmen and gets his attention.

“Hey, Scar,” Marcell says as he reaches us.

“Grab the coffee Patron the princess likes and a couple of shot glasses, please,” Span requests.

“Far out, this is gonna be bad.” I close my eyes and brace.

Opening them, I watch in silence as Marcell pours our shots and leaves the bottle on the bar. Span passes me a glass, I touch mine to his, and we knock them back. He pours us another. I knock that back too, my insides on fire as the tequila hits my empty belly.

“I’ll tell ya right now, Scar, I don’t really want the prick in my bar. I’ll let you do what you gotta do tonight because I’d rather you do it here, where I can keep an eye on his reaction, but then he’s back to being banned.”

“He’s banned? You banned him? What the fuck did he do, and why would he agree to meet me here knowing he’s banned?”

Anthony appears and puts a glass in front of each of us. It’s filled with a light pinkish-coloured drink, a curl of lime sits on the side of the glass, and a cocktail stick with two glacé cherries, with a slice of lemon spiralled between them reaches from side to side.

“Am I gonna be able to walk after this?” I ask

Anthony winks and shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had to carry you home.”

This is true.

I pull the first cherry off with my teeth, slide off the lemon and toss it in the drink before taking a sip.

“Mmmmm, I taste vodka, gin, lime, cranberry . . . is this just a Cosmo with vodka and gin?” I ask.

“Pretty much, we’ll call it a Scarletini,” Anth proudly announces.

“That sounds like something that gives you a nasty rash,” Span states.

“What about a SpaAnthony? That way I’ll always think of you two when I drink it.”