October 18, 2014
Vanessa sat up on the couch and wiped the dried rheum from the corners of her eyes. She looked around the loft with satisfaction and pulled open the balcony’s thick blue curtains.
“Too much light!” Brandon yelled from the mezzanine.
“It’s almost ten o’clock.”
She stepped onto the balcony and her throat got drier just from seeing the cigarette butts in the gas grill. Vanessa grabbed the empty beer bottles and took them to the kitchen to rinse.
Brandon and Vanessa walked a few blocks to the Downtown Café and arrived just after the morning rush. The tables were still full, but most of the customers had finished their meals and were just having coffee and conversation. They took seats at the counter.
“I’m really sorry about last night,” Brandon said.
“Seriously. Don’t worry about,” Vanessa insisted. “But, I do have a way of getting back at Dennis.”
Dennis lied on the weight bench and did ten reps of 205 pounds. On the last repetition, Vanessa held her hands under the barbell just in case he needed help. He didn’t.
“I still can’t believe you guys ditched me,” he said.
“From what I saw, you wanted us to ditch you.”
“Everything was going fine until she disappeared to the bathroom while we were waiting for a cab, and the next thing I know, her friends are carrying her out the bar.”
“You roofied her?”
“Shut it,” Dennis said. “And you disappeared to move furniture with Brandon?”
Vanessa smiled mischievously as they moved through the crowded gym to the leg press machines.
“Wait!” Dennis said. “No! No, you didn’t?”
“I’m not saying anything happened, but if it did, it wasn’t very good.”
“So you’re not coming back to the light?”
“Not for him, that’s for sure.”
“No, if anything… I’m not talking about this anymore. Put two forty-fives on your side, sir.”
Vanessa contorted her body into the proper position and did twenty leg presses easily. She ran the 1600 meters in high school and always had strong legs, but she hated the hard workouts. Besides, she wasn’t looking to bulk up.
“God, I barely remember anything,” Vanessa said. “We damn near drank the whole bottle of Jameson. Yeah, I definitely blame it on the Jameson. Do you want a ride to your car later?”
“No, I think I’m going to jog. Get tired of these treadmills after a while. Besides, the weather’s perfect for a nice run.”
“Good, get out of here because you reek of booze.”
“You don’t even drink Jameson.”
“Well, apparently I did last night.”
Brandon pushed his shopping cart through the produce section and glanced at the list on his phone. It not only reminded him of what he needed, it prevented him from buying too many things that could spoil, especially fruit. He was always mesmerized by the way the fruits gleamed under the bright lights. Yes, he was a merchandiser’s dream, but his list restricted him to half a dozen bananas and a combination of six apples or oranges. He grabbed a bag of red potatoes and headed to the meat section, where he selected a whole chicken, three T-bone steaks and a pound of thick bacon.
In the liquor aisle, he put bottles of vodka, scotch, bourbon, rye, gin and cognac into the cart.
“Am I getting an invite to the party?” Kristen Ferguson asked. Her wild black hair was tucked under a blue Golden State Warriors hat.
“You haven’t RSVPed?” Brandon responded.
She laughed. “I’m just kidding. Gotta work tonight anyway.”
“There’s always the after party.”
“Well, no, just shopping to fill up the apartment.”
“Cool. You live around here?”
“Actually, I’m down the block from The Revisionist.”
Kristen was thirty-five years old but looked much younger. It must have been from her mother, who was carded even for cigarettes until she was almost fifty years old.
“Well, I will be there all night if you get bored.”
Dennis kept a seven minute pace, and even with the traffic lights and his mind wondering if Vanessa actually slept with Brandon, he reached Brandon’s loft in less than fifteen minutes. He checked his car, and it was untouched from the previous night.
Brandon answered the door with a glass of Jameson in hand. “Hey, come on in.”
“Got any water?” Dennis asked.
“Did you run here? I think there’s still Gatorade from yesterday. Kao and I are just watching the street fair from the balcony.”
Dennis looked at the counter and saw a bottle of Jameson that was still three-quarters full. He felt relieved and didn’t say anything. It was the same bottle from the previous night, but after he left the gym, Vanessa called Brandon to fill him in on the conversation. Coincidentally, Kao had just stopped by with a bottle of Jameson as a welcome gift, and Brandon put that new bottle in a cabinet above the fridge. Otherwise, he would have done the same with the other.
They went out to the balcony.
“I have to run,” Kao said. “But if you guys want to play, there’s going to be some cards next door tonight.”
“Five-ten no-limit is too rich for my blood,” Brandon said. “Hey, thanks again for the Jameson.”
“Welcome to the neighborhood. I’ll let myself out.”
Dennis chugged his Gatorade and took a deep breath.
“Heard you found a lady last night?” Brandon asked.
“Oh, god, I don’t even want to talk about that,” Dennis said. “Just came from a workout with Vanessa.”
“Nice, how’s she doing?”
“Did I ever tell you she’s a lesbian?”
“Well, she is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Look, she already told me about last night.”
Brandon smiled. “Yeah, what did she say?”
“That you weren’t any good.”
“What? That’s bullshit.”
Dennis started laughing. “Yeah, apparently, you failed to convert her.”
“Make her straight again.”
“Oh, Jesus. I didn’t even think of it that way.” Brandon paused. “I just wanted to christen the loft.”
“Christen the loft? That’s terrible,” Dennis said.
“Wait, are you in love with her?”
“No, I’m not. Well, I don’t know.”
Brandon debated telling his friend the ruse because he didn’t like being cruel, but he also knew Dennis wasn’t in love with Vanessa, so he said, “If we’re going to be friends, you can’t go falling in love with my sloppy seconds. Besides, you’re the one who ditched her to make out with Lucy Lush.”
Kao’s loft was decorated more like an office than a living space, but this night the furniture was pushed to the side to accommodate two poker tables. One table had $5-$10 no-limit Texas Hold ‘em and the other hosted a $20-$40 limit Texas Hold ‘em game. Most of the players were local businessmen in their forties and fifties and looking to just blow off steam, and they all chatted with little inhibition one is prone to do with longtime friends.
Brandon watched the tables from a distance but wasn’t impressed. He played a bit when he was in high school and college, mainly on-line but he logged some time on live tables as well. Right away he saw almost all of the guys playing too wide a range of hands and without enough aggression. Too many hands went to a showdown. When Brandon went to smoke on the balcony, Kao joined him.
“I’ll stake you if you want to play,” Kao said as he pulled a cigarette out of its box.
“No, it’s been too long since I last played.”
“Like riding a bike.”
“Why don’t you play?”
“I will later or if they need an extra body. Besides, I want these guys to have fun and get into their rhythms.”
“Patterns?” Brandon asked.
Kao smiled and lifted his glass for a toast.
They walked down the block to The Revisionist and Kao commented on how dead it was for a Saturday night. Most of the bars were at half capacity because of mid-terms and there was also a stabbing the previous weekend that was all over the local paper. At the door, the bouncer nodded at Kao and let the two in while checking the IDs of a group of girls. The speakers pumped nondescript dance music with a repetitive beat to a few dozen people dancing in front of the deejay’s stage.
“Well, you sure meet everyone fast,” Kristen said when she saw Brandon with Kao.
“Just wanted to make sure you’re coming to the after party,” Brandon said.
“You said you weren’t having one so I made other plans.”
She poured Bombay Sapphire on ice with a slice of lime and put it in front of Kao.
“What are you having?” she asked Brandon.
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