Page 8

I pull up in front of Club Lotus. It looks strange during daylight hours with the unlit marquee, the absence of bouncers standing guard, and an empty sidewalk with no line of people winding down it. I knock on the black glass door.

"It's open," a voice echoes from inside.

I let myself in and marvel at all the open space.

Nick works nonstop to fill that space every night.

And he's damn good at it. Entertainment runs through his veins.

He's amazing with people. Knows everyone.

It doesn't matter if your pockets are fat or empty and lined with lent, he treats everyone like they matter.

Which is why everyone, celebrity or not, loves him and finds their way to the Lotus.

He's one of the best managers I have ever had.

He hired me on the spot, the day I wandered in looking for work.

I had never waited on tables before, let alone worked in a club but he trusted me.

Gave me a VIP section. I've been making real money ever since.

Working only two days a week, Fridays and Saturdays, I pay all my bills and have a little left over to save.

Nick's behind the bar taking stock of the liquor.

"Hey! There's my girl!" His face is red from carrying a heavy case of liquor from the back.

"I'm telling you. You won't believe it." He opens the register and pulls an envelope from the bottom of the drawer.

"You know how you were telling me about that situation last night? "

"Huh?" I ask puzzled.

"You know, the situation with the guy that you said called you a you-know-what?" he prompts me.

"Oh. Yeah. That guy," my tone falls flat. "What about that asshole?"

"Well, I called him, talked to him this morning.

I told him what he did and let him know he can't treat my girls that way.

He was drunk out of his mind yesterday. Would you believe, he had no recollection of calling you out your name?

He went on and on about how great you were, how you made him and his guys feel like kings.

How you had excellent customer service. Ya da ya da ya.

You know, the whole nine." Nick leans over the glass-top bar as if he's about to tell me a secret and whispers, "So, he stops by with this envelope to ya know, apologize and express his gratitude. "

This feels like a Godfather moment.

A huge smile spreads over Nick's face as he slides the envelope across the bar. "Here you go, kid. You must have made some impression on him."

Not knowing why, I smile too as I discreetly cuff the envelope. "Thanks for having my back, Nick."

"Hey, no problem and congratulations on your graduation. When is it?"

"Tomorrow, actually."

"You don't sound very happy about it. You ready for it?"

"I'm trying to be, considering all that's happened recently. Once I graduate, it's off to the real world, right?"

"Don't be afraid. The real world ain't so bad. Life takes care of itself."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Exactly what I said. Life takes care of itself."

"Oh, it does, now?"

"Yeah, take flowers for example."

"Flowers, Nick?"

"Don't give me that look. Hear me out."

I throw my hands up. "OK. Alright!"

"Flowers found in nature. Who planted 'em? You didn't. I didn't. So, who's responsible?"

I shrug my shoulders. "I don't know."

"Bees!"

"Really? Bees?"

"Just listen." He waves me down. "Bees do all the dirty work.

They're responsible for something like a third of all crops planted.

Go figure! How do they do it?" He holds up his pudgy finger.

"They're relentless. They spend most of their life aggressively collecting nectar and pollen.

The pollen gets caught on the hairs of their fat little bodies and falls from one flower to another as they go.

Boom!" He lightly punches his hand. "You got pollination. "

I laugh. "You're pretty passionate about this, aren't you?"

He smiles then he squints at me. "Now how do bees do this consistently on such a large scale?

How are they navigating?" He raises his eyebrows.

"It's pretty remarkable. Bees can tell what's going on with a flower by its electric field.

No lie! There's an aura of electricity that surrounds a flower. "

Shaking my head. "I don't believe that!"

"It's true! Bees can tell if a flower is full of nectar and pollen or empty just by getting near it.

The fuller the flower, the stronger the electric charge, the more magnetic the attraction.

The bee follows its instinct. It goes where the nectar is.

There's a sort of...electric impulse type thing going on between the two. "

"Electric impulse, Nick? Really?" I ask, ready to walk away.

"Yeah, ya know. The bee senses the strong electric aura of a flower, and its impulse is to pursue it. Fits like a key and a keyhole. Two things paired to work perfectly together. As I said before, life takes care of itself."

"Huh! I think I see what you mean. Life takes care of itself."

"See?" He nods his head, smiling. "So, don't worry 'bout nothing. You got me in your corner. Good luck, kid. That's some accomplishment." He grabs a towel and wipes down a martini glass. "See you next weekend."

"See you, Nick." Somehow, something inside me has lifted and I'm a little lighter in my step. I feel optimistic, despite what I just went through with that bastard, Sebastian. I turn back before walking out the door. "Hey, Nick!"

"Yes, doll."

"How do you know all that? That stuff about the bees and flowers?"

"My grandparents owned a farm in Hudson Valley. As a kid, I'd spend all summer up there. They kept beehives out back."

"You? A farm boy? I thought you were all city."

He laughs. "You'd be surprised, some of the stories I could tell ya."

"I bet."

I get back to my car just in time to catch the parking meter checker.

He's ticketing the car behind me. I've got seconds to get out of here.

Planting my right foot on the back door, I yank the handle of the driver's door, trying to get the rusty thing to give way.

Two powerful soccer kicks later, the door does an open sesame.

Narrowly escaping, I jump in and drive off just as his tiny vehicle pulls up to ticket me.

I'm off to the lakefront.

The part boat, part bird, part moving work of art attached to the Milwaukee Art Museum is my welcoming sign.

It's a landmark so huge and so distinct, it's known as one of the wonders of the Midwest. I breathe a sigh of relief, grab my handbag and safely exit my trap.

Once I'm by the sand, all bets are off, I immediately remove my shoes.

The day has changed. The sunless, overcast sky is a perfect reflection of me, right now.

And the aquatic smell of lake water along with the sound of waves crashing against the shore, calm my exhausted nerves.

What a weekend!

And it's not even over yet. I find a spot in the sand with not so many pebbles and have a seat, sinking my toes deep into the damp coolness.

The envelope is about half an inch thick. It feels heavy. I thump it against my palm wondering what's inside. I set the envelope down next to me in the sand.

I can't believe all that's happened between that incident with Phoenix and Sebastian breaking it off.

Closing my eyes, I try unsuccessfully to forget the last forty-eight hours.

Why is everyone coming for me? It's like it's full-on hunting season.

Game hunters in Wisconsin don't play. I'm not sure why they call it game hunting, because it's serious as hell.

It's not a game! Everyone's out for blood.

My blood! These men have lost their goddamn minds!

Without warning, the sadness returns. It hits me heavy, knocking the wind out of me. Did Sebastian really just dump me like that? Like I was nothing to him?

The stinging, burning sensation returns and tears follow. I have an urge to write. There's something I need to get out.

Now.

I frantically grab the pen and notebook from my handbag.

What if I went to that party and somehow convinced him to stay? What would that look like? Knowing what I know now? Could we have fixed this? I know I shouldn't want him, but I can't turn it off like that.

Journal Entry 282:

Road Not Taken

Her innocence leaves her undone

Unguarded, the first becomes the One

He knows deep down, it is just luck

He has to rush to gain her trust;

Speaks honey-tainted nothings in her ear

Believing every word that she hears

Allows her garments to fall lightly to the ground

Stealthily, he moves in without a sound

But when he speaks, he does deceive

Degree by degree, confusion takes seed

She questions if his heart is really hers

Or if those were just words

That on the verge sounded sweet

Unassuming, mild and meek

But he can't play pretend for long

Young and wild, he longs to roam

Her neighbor's garden is a feast

In love, his heart is a cheat

Deep down, this she did intuit

No action to combat it, knowing is useless

Her heart at risk, the mind is discarded

To keep him, she becomes the martyr

Lays herself down, she's deprived

No clarity, no peace, just crying eyes

That hide behind her many reasons why

While he beams because he's satisfied

Variety, he tells her, is the spice of life

Now a ghost of herself, her sacrifice

Has carved her thin, a skeleton

The mask fits perfectly over her skin

Underneath, soundly she dreams

Her waking hours, all spent asleep

I peer out at the horizon, a little less broken. I wouldn't want to end up like that, cause that's where it was going—a coma of a relationship, living only half a life. But damn, it still hurts.

How could he?

Why did he?

I allow the frothy water washing up on the shore to soak up my questions and confusion. And I let myself be, drifting with the waves.

Seagulls caw loudly as they fly over the water searching for their next meal. The sand is heaven between my toes. Freshly snapped out of my trance, I'm now miles away from Sebastian's barbeque and his humiliation. As impossible as that seems.

I reach over to pick up a shimmering seashell and I'm reminded of the envelope, just sitting there waiting to be opened.

I pick it up with hesitation because I know that once it's opened, I'll know what's inside.

Right now, this envelope is my validation.

It's a symbol that even if Sebastian's soulless ass doesn't give a flying fuck about me, someone else does and even if that someone is an asshole, at least he cares to make things right.

At least he's not setting me up for a big fall.

At least he's not plotting for my demise and utter humiliation in front of a bunch of strangers I had yet to meet.

At least he cares enough to make a public declaration that he made a mistake.

I take a deep breath and tear open the envelope. There's a letter folded around something. When I open the letter, it falls softly into my lap. My jaw drops. What is this? Phoenix is crazy!

The band around the bills says $10,000. Is this a joke? Are these bills real?

I slip the band off and fan the bills out in my hands. He can't be serious. I put the money back into the envelope and reach for the letter. It's handwritten!

I thought I was the only one writing letters by hand these days. This gesture is not lost on me. Words are my life and he's taken the time to handwrite each one.

That's incredibly sexy.

This is the guy I first met. The one that drew me in. This is Him! What does he have to say?

https://youtu.be/0G9FZlAdMTQ

Aria,

I got a call this morning from Nick and it wasn't pretty. I can't believe I did what he said. I blame it on the Remy! I went too far and for that, I'm sorry.

I had more fun last night than I have in a long time. As I said last night, you really are a breath of fresh air. I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me. That's not who I am.

Please, accept this gift as a token of friendship and appreciation.

I know you're probably wondering if there are strings attached.

Trust me. There are none. And if you're thinking of returning it, don't! Let me do something nice for the girl that looked out for me and my boys in spite of the shitty way I treated her.

I'll be seeing you around,

Phoenix

Stunned by his sudden sweetness and generosity, I grip the letter to my chest. I accept his apology, it feels sincere and that feels fantastic. His timing couldn't be more perfect. I needed to hear this. To know I matter to someone. But the 10k, I'm not so sure.

Well, he didn't even tip you and you worked your ass off last night.

10k is a lot of money, I didn't work that hard.

But didn't you?