Page 12 of Hiss and Make Up
Twenty-two televisions flashed college football games, a sports news show, and a golf tournament. Of all the sports bars in Lafayette, this was Marc’s favorite. It kept the radio low and was never too crowded during lunch. Freddy enjoyed a different view—one involving tiny, red, skin-tight shorts. That made this his obvious choice for their Saturday thank-you lunch.
Marc tilted back his IPA and shook his head when Freddy tried to order another round. Freddy and the waitress frowned at each other and made pouting faces at Marc.
“No way. I have a game later. I don’t have time for a beer nap like some people.”
“Hey, I have earned my beer nap, my friend.” Freddy thanked the waitress anyway and told her he didn’t want a second beer either. “And so have you.”
“No time for that.”
Freddy side-eyed him while stuffing the last two fries in his mouth. Still chewing, he asked, “No hot date?”
“No,” Marc said, choking on his own spit.
Freddy grabbed Marc’s hand and flipped it over to reveal the faded ink on his palm.
“You sure about that?”
Marc shook his head and pulled his hand back to down the rest of his beer. Stalling, yes. Because he was having a hard time accepting that he was meeting Sierra Menard for lunch tomorrow.
“She’s just an old friend I ran into yesterday.”
“How old? Like Old Man McDougall old? Or like college girlfriend old?”
“Like we were both kids when she moved.”
“Ah,” Freddy said, still eying Marc suspiciously. “I’m betting she’s no kid anymore.”
“No. No, she is definitely not.” Marc picked at the label on his empty bottle, remembering her eyes. So familiar, but different somehow. Her shaggy hair. Her mouth. How she looked bending over into the car…
“So?” Freddy asked.
“So what?”
“So what’s the story? Wait, is that what you ran out on me at the station yesterday for?”
“No. Well, not exactly.”
Freddy squinted and took Marc’s last three fries. “Fess up.”
“Denise called me when she found a snake at the house. I told you that.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And the Nature Station sent Sierra out to identify it for us.”
“Sierra, huh? She sounds hot.”
Marc raised an eyebrow at his friend. “You looking for more trouble?”
“Me? Hell, no!”
Freddy’s plate always overflowed with trouble. Not all the female type of trouble, but enough. Not that the women he dated were trouble. More that his habit of dating them at the same time without them knowing that fact was troublesome. To say the least.
“But I was thinking you could stand a little trouble inyourlife.”
“Me?” Marc laughed. “I don’t have time for a second beer. You think I have time for a girlfriend?”
“No, but I think you need to make time for one.”
