But Winston was right. Something had to happen. If Nick had thought he was sexually frustrated before, at least he had the company of at least three of his four roommates. One of whom had been seeing some heavy rotation in his slightly conflicted fantasy world of late. And now even she was enjoying what was apparently a very adventuresome and mutually satisfying love life, these days.
Genslinger. The guy had proven to be nice enough, actually, but Nick still tended to think of him through gritted teeth. More than anything because he still just couldn't figure out how that skinny bastard had gotten so lucky. Damn Jess. Right when he about had himself convinced that he himself was exactly what she needed and was waiting for, she had to ruin it by finally getting up the nerve to jump in the sack with some geeky music teacher who walked like a marionette and had a wobbly Adam's apple.
And Nick told himself that the sharp pain in his chest every time he thought about them together was merely due to a bruised ego, and nothing more.
Anyway, obsessing about Jess had just been the easy, lazy way to get out of "putting himself out there" again, he lectured himself. He and Caroline had been broken up...geez, HOW many months, now? Over half a year. And it was time for him to do exactly what Jess herself had done...take a look around, survey the field, select a likely candidate and just ask someone out, already. Sheesh.
And just like that, like a self-fulfilling prophecy, suddenly there was a girl who caught his eye.
She'd come to the bar one night with a few business associates, and at first he hadn't taken much notice. They seemed to be having a meeting of sorts, and if anything she came off a tad demanding, and potentially bitchy.
But by the time her associates left she'd had a few drinks, and she came and sat at the bar and nursed another one, and before he knew it, it was almost like she was flirting with him.
Not an unusual occurrence. Lots of ladies seemed to enjoy honing their seduction skills on the bartenders. Some guys took advantage of that. But Nick never could seem to take it seriously, and rarely paid it much attention, unless it really got aggressive.
So he was surprised when this time he kinda sorta found himself flirting back. And he realized that this ballsy bitch was actually pretty cute and funny.
She left before getting truly drunk, and he enjoyed the lingering high of the unexpected ego boost for the rest of the evening.
And then forgot all about her.
Until she showed up again the next night.
Alone.
She sat at the bar for several hours, slowly sipping a drink or two, and ostensibly doing paperwork. Except that she always had time to stop and share a few witty bon mots with him when he paused near her to wipe down the bar.
And he found that her end of the bar needed a lot of cleaning, that night.
At the other end, he was kept busy by a group of cougars who were out celebrating the unnamed "significant birthday" of one of their number. They'd been drinking before they ever even showed up, and they weren't slowing down now. They were loud, and they were obnoxious, but they of course thought that they were being "hot" and fascinating and irresistible.
And it quickly escalated into one of those "so aggressive he couldn't ignore it" type situations.
He handled them, though, with the unruffled aplomb of an experienced bartender, and only the occasional eyebrows raised at the quiet girl at the other end of the bar betrayed the fact that he was wishing mightily that the whole group would just hitch up their necklines, and tug down their hemlines, and leave.
And thank goodness, it finally looked like they were going to...except that they were quite insistent on obtaining his number for the birthday girl before doing so.
"Sure," Nick said readily, "Have you got a napkin or something?" He eagerly wrote down his name and number, and flirtatiously eyed the lucky lady as he further instructed, "I work weird hours and sleep weird hours, so I wrote down the best times to reach me, too." And he slid the napkin across the bar with his best wink and smile.
The gaggle of aging beauty queens teetered out the door on their high heels and fading hopes, and he returned again to the other end of the bar.
"You need to quit making such a mess," he rebuked Cute Girl, "I swear this is the tenth time I've had to clean up around you tonight."
She smiled knowingly and cut straight to the chase, "That wasn't your real number, was it?"
Nick shrugged. "Jeff Goggins back in Chicago was a real asshole to me all through high school. He deserves a 3:00 am wake up call now and then."
And he was leaning on the bar, and they were smiling at each other, and she cocked her head to the side when she asked deliberately, never breaking eye contact, "And if I asked for your number, would I find myself talking to an irate Jeff Goggins, as well?"
Nick just smiled. A slow smile that was almost one of self-rediscovery. And he held out his hand and said, "Hi...I'm Nick."
"Hi Nick," she answered, her handshake soft and firm all at once, "I'm Julia."