Page 1 of Brick Wall
Chapter One
Annie
“Nobody puts baby in a corner.”
“Excuse me?” I swivel halfway around in my barstool to see a short, skinny guy in his forties with slicked-back hair staring at me.
“I said nobody puts baby in a corner…because you’re in a corner.”
“Got it.”
“You know, like the movie. Chicks love that movie. Although not as many girls get the reference now, but I knew you would,” he says with a wink that I think I’m supposed to find charming.
“Because I’m old?” I can’t help but question.
“Exactly. Well, not old, but you’re not one of those young, annoying girls.”
“Um…thank you?” I say with so much confusion. I’m still in my twenties, thank you very much. I’m twenty-nine for a few more months, but it still counts.
How did I land myself in such a confusing, awkward conversation? I’m wearing an oversized gray hoodie and black leggings at the bar—nothing that says, “Hit on me, please.”
I’m also sitting on the last stool at the end of the dark bar, and yes, I am tucked in a corner. It’s my signature spot in my favorite Irish pub, O’Donnelly’s. I love sitting at the end of the bar, with the left-side end of the wall to keep me company. One less person to socialize with.
Tonight, however, there’s a different kind of wall to my right side—a giant wall of man. The enormous guy is leaning slightly forward and has his body angled the opposite direction from me so I can only see his side profile and backside, which is fine with me.
I kind of thought I’d be invisible in this spot, but I guess I was wrong. I came for people-watching tonight, not people-talking.
The man with the smarmy smile in front of me did not get the memo, however.
“I’m Joe. I’m a mechanic, and I’m really good with my hands.”
“Um, hi.” I’m already thinking about how to get out of this conversation. I’m a terrible person, I know.
Oh crap, Joe is still talking about pistons and drive shafts. I think. I’m unsure if this is flirting or shop talk. “So, tell me about you.”
“Oh, um, well…” I don’t really want to, but dammit, I’m polite. “I’m Alexa, and I’m a virtual assistant.” Well, notthatpolite.
“Oh yeah, I could use an admin to sort me out.”
Um…
“Oh, well, I work in technology and get a ton of inquiries as it is, sorry.”
I see the giant wall of man next to me move his shoulders up and down in quick succession, but no sound leaves his lips.
My lack of conversation does not deter Joe, who’s still here, chatting my ear off. I shift slightly in my seat and stretch my arms to get a little more comfortable.
Just when I think this conversation will never end, Joe abruptly asks, “How tall are you?”
“Six f—”
Joe cuts me off. “Oh, well, my mom’s calling me. It was nice chatting with ya.” And just like that, Joe is gone, and my peace and quiet has returned.
Wow, did I just get hit on and then dumped in the span of five minutes?
“That was impressive,” the wall to my right responds.
Crap, did I say my thoughts out loud, or was that scene so publicly embarrassing that this man thought he had to comment?
