Page 31 of Sparks
“I gotta close up,” the bartender called.
Shit! I was going to regret this so hard. I gritted my teeth and began to type.
OMG. I’m stuck at a bar in Hoboken with no ride and no money. About to ask the bartender for a ride but he’s an asshole!
To my shock, Shawn responded immediately.
Harlow? Don’t do that.
My eyes burned and I swallowed back emotions. Oh, fuck me, I was buzzing hard and I’d just texted the last person on Earth I should have.
I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out.
Tell me exactly where you are.
Frank’s Pub.
“Time to go,” the bartender practically shouted. Heartless bastard.
A black Chevy sedan will be there in three minutes. Can I call you?
Oh, my gosh. The relief I felt made me shiver.
Yes.
I got to the door, turning to look at the bartender. “Bye! Fuck you very much!” Vodka made me do it.
He rolled his eyes and I pushed my way out, standing on a shoveled patch of sidewalk and pulling my jacket collar up against the frigid breeze. My phone rang and a thrill zapped me at the sight of Shawn’s number calling.
I closed my eyes as I answered. “Are you with…your family?”
“No. Just me.” Oh, thank God. His voice had an immediate calming effect on my nervous system.
“I will pay you back. Just give me your Paypal or Venmo or whatever—”
“Hell no. Don’t worry about that. Are you okay?”
Again, I blamed the vodka, along with the fact that Shawn was way too easy to talk to. I started telling him the whole story, starting from when Beth talked me into going on the date. At some point during the conversation the cab pulled up and I climbed in, still talking. I got home, thanking the driver, and let myself into the building, looking up and down the street to stay cautious out of habit. We’d been talking the whole time.
“How was the ride?” Shawn asked.
“Excellent.”
“Big tip and five stars. Done. Are you in your building now?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Feel better?”
I stopped halfway up the stairs and leaned against the wall, overcome with gratitude. “I feel so stupid for calling you. I barely know you.”
“You were scared. This is exactly why I gave you my number.”
“I swear, I’m usually much more responsible than this.”
“I wasn’t at your age.” He laughed, and I sighed, making my way up the rest of the stairs and letting myself in. I pulled off my boots and collapsed onto the couch.
“So,” he said. “Your first Sparks date was with a drug dealer.”
