Page 14 of As a Last Resort
I beelined it for the door.
4
AUSTIN
The ferry looked like it had been through a hurricane, trampled into submission by suitcases and sun hats.I couldn’t remember it ever being this busy.
A whistle from behind me cut through as we idled in from the last run of the day.Patrick’s eyeline focused at the end of the dock in front of us.“Now that’s a young lady with a mission.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”A casual Sherry from Jersey leaned up against a wooden piling, an inch of white denim cutoff shorts covering her mile-long legs with a red tied-up half shirt, looped through the middle.She smiled with the innocence of a viper and waved.
“I think she lost half her clothes in a battle with the dock to get to you.”Patrick leaned back against the rail, clearly enjoying the view.
You couldn’t say the girl didn’t have confidence.
He grabbed the intercom.“Good evening, beautiful people.This is the Bolt himself, welcoming you to Rock Island.Please stay seated as we dock and we’ll have you folks off and on your way to paradise in no time.”
After the last guest had exited, Sherry strolled over and propped herself up against the piling that flanked the boat.“How was family dinner last night?”
“Uneventful.”I turned to start the mountain of trash pickup on the boat deck.
“You’re back early.I’m not going to take no for an answer now.One drink.”
Sherry wasn’t my type.And I didn’t feel like being charming.
“We were going out anyway, join us!”Patrick called from the top deck.
She leaned onto the boat and grabbed the railing.“One drink can’t hurt.Right?”
When a flea sneezes on Rock Island, the gossip train barrels ahead full steam.So I knew the moment I walked into Harpoon’s with Sherry, that the subject of town gossip the next morning would be my Friday night whereabouts.
And Harpoon’s was never lacking for busybodies.They had cheap beer, good fried food, and a great view of the water.Patrick walked in first like he did everywhere else, waving and schmoozing like he owned the joint.
Sherry clung to my side as we walked in, a potent mixture of strawberries and that same hairspray my sister used that I hated because it burned my nose.I headed straight to the bar for drinks as she peeled off to the bathroom.
Becky, the bartender whom I’d gone to kindergarten with, raised her pierced eyebrow at me.She was like another little sister to me, and never missed a chance to get into my business.
She landed a frosty beer onto the bar in front of me.“Well, that’s a new flavor of ice cream for you.”
“That’s one way to put it.”I took the first glorious sip, which had little ice shavings floating on the head.
“She’s something to look at alright, even though she’s not your type.”
“She’s moreyourtype.”
“Too bad she’s not into that if she’s here with you.I’d take her off your hands in a heartbeat if she’d let me.”Becky plopped another drink in front of me that had a red and white paper umbrella nestled into whipped cream and smelled of coconut.I raised my eyebrows.“Trust me, she’ll love it.”
“Put these on Patrick’s tab.I have him to thank for this one.”
“Don’t you mean Usain?”The corner of her mouth pulled up.“I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten sued for that yet.”
Only Patrick would be able to steal a famous person’s likeness and have said famous person on board with it.He ran through the bar like a tornado, capturing smiles and laughs like he was harboring them as currency for later.
I jumped as I felt a pinch on my butt.
Becky suppressed a laugh and darted the other direction down the bar as Sherry came up behind my barstool and wrapped her arms around my waist.
“Aw, babe, it matches my outfit!”Sherry whined as she reached around me to grab her drink.Great.We’d already reachedbabestatus.“And how did you know I love Malibu?”
