Nick ran a towel over the bar before flipping it over his green-flannel clad shoulder and sighing. It was hardly noon, not a customer in the bar, and he already knew it was going to be a long day. He glanced over at Cece at the far end of the bar. She was unstacking and restacking glasses, just trying to find something to do to keep busy. Every now and then she'd catch something she didn't like. A spot or some other flaw on a glass, and she would rub it on the waist of her burgundy tank top until the offending blemish was gone. Nick thought about suggesting a towel for the deed, but kept his mouth shut. Cece had been giving him space, not asking questions. He appreciated that kind of understanding from her, but he also knew that Cece was Jess' best friend. That she had her back like no other. That she was a dam that, one day, would be ready to burst with thoughts and opinions on Nick and Jess and their situation. And Nick wasn't ready for it to be that day.

He instead reached under the bar and grabbed the book of short stories he had started the night before. He was now a half a dozen or so stories into the collection, and he was compelled to keep going. The tales were of average people doing average things, but one recurring theme seemed to be adultery. The characters in these stories came at it from all angles, and they made it seem alternately complicated and commonplace. Nick couldn't relate a lick. It simply wasn't in his makeup. But the book made him think. He had wondered if something as conclusive as cheating wouldn't have somehow made this whole situation with Jess easier. To have something definitive, something final to blame. A party to assign full responsibility to, even if it were himself. He shook his head at the thought, and produced a tumbler from beneath the bar, setting it on top. He then reached behind him and grabbed a bottle of cheap bourbon and poured himself a neat one. It was going to be a slow afternoon, but he decided at that moment it would be his only drink of the shift.

Cheating on Jess, of course, was an outright impossibility. And he felt pretty certain the same was true for her. Still, that didn't help him make heads or tails of why he participated in the end of the relationship with such ease, or what, if anything, could or should be done about it. Taking a sip of his drink, he looked down at Cece, and felt a pang of guilt. She'd probably be out for another double round of junk-punching had she known Nick actually entertained the idea that cheating might have been preferable to whatever it was he and Jess were going through. Only this time he might've deserved it.

He set his drink down and flipped to the page marked in his book. He leaned his elbows on the bar and read, undisturbed, for a few pages. He got so involved in what should've been a mundane story about a father and son meeting for a drink in an airport that he didn't notice the young woman that had approached him from the other side of the bar. But Cece did, arching her eyebrows, first at the attractive woman, and then and Nick's complete ambivalence to her. The young woman coughed, finally dragging Nick's attention from his book.

"Oh, God, I'm sorry," he said, turning to the woman.

"It's okay," she said with a smile. "I get caught up in Carver myself sometimes."

"You know this guy?"

"I read a bunch of his stuff in college. Took a creative writing course. I love all the minimalists."

"Minimalist… that makes sense."

"I'm Michelle," the girl said with a smile.

"Well, Michelle, I'm Nick. What can I get you?"

"Well," she said, flashing her light blue eyes, slightly embarrassed. "It's kind of early, so I was thinking maybe… a virgin screwdriver?"

"OJ and Seven up, coming right… up?" Nick said shaking his head.

Cece watched on as the girl laughed at Nick's unintentional joke. The girl giggled, twirled her hair, and seemed only slightly perplexed by the fact that Nick didn't seem to be picking up on her obvious flirtation. And Cece felt pretty certain that this girl didn't get ignored very often. As Nick went about fixing the drink, the girl slipped off her black jacket to reveal a clingy white tank top. One she filled out so well that even Cece felt herself instinctively straightening her own posture.

"So what brings you to a bar at noon if you aren't planning on drinking," Nick asked, setting the drink in front of Michelle.

"Oh, I'm meeting some guy," she said. "Going to go grab lunch, see a movie."

"Gotcha," Nick said, returning to his book. "No charge on the, uh, 'screwdriver'"

"Well, thank you," Michelle said with a smile. She slipped onto the stool across from Nick, being sure to lean forward a little longer than necessary. She looked mystified when Nick didn't so much as steal a glance. "You know, you look familiar," she added.

"Oh" Nick said looking up from his book. "Maybe you've seen me here before?"

"No, no this is my first time here. I was out at the store, and the guy I've got the date with, Winston, said we should meet here."

"Oh, I see," Nick said, nodding. "You're the girl from down the hall? The one my three idiot roommates are falling all over themselves to impress."

"You live with those guys?"

"Yeah. I mean… well, I did," Nick corrected himself. "Until very, very recently."

"Huh. I must've seen you around the building or something. Though I'd like to think I've have remembered that," she said, taking the straw to her drink slowly in her mouth.

"If you say so," Nick shrugged. "So, tell me Michelle. Which of the three stooges is closest to winning your heart."

"Ha!" she genuinely laughed. "Well, let's see. First they offer to help me and my roommate move. But they basically end up destroying half of our stuff. So, there's a strike against all three of them."

"Sounds fair."

"And then this Coach guy takes me to where he works, and he treats me like a client. That was the date. Just him shouting orders and me busting my ass."

"And that was no good?"

"I mean, it was a nice work out, and I honestly would recommend him as a trainer, but as a date? Not so much."

"Seems reasonable."

"And then this Schmidt guy… it is Schmidt, right?"

"Yup. Hard to forget."

"He's been leaving things at my doorstep all week. Chocolates, flowers, stuffed animals. All with these little cards that tell me to prepare for the 'greatest night of my life' when we do finally go out."

"Sounds like Schmidt."

"And, I dunno. Winston seems nice and all. I guess he'd be in the lead if I had to pick."

"Oh yeah?" Nick said with a grin.

"Yeah. I mean, he seemed a little more genuine when he helped us move. He actually moved quite a bit, and he managed not to break anything."

"Winston's a good guy. I'm sure you guys will have fun."

"Maybe," Michelle said, dropping her eyes for the moment. "So… where were you the day we moved in. Why aren't you in on this whole thing? Or am I just not your type?"

Nick took a deep breath and looked at Michelle. Any point in his life before Jessica Day, and he would've been fighting those idiots tooth and nail to get a shot a girl like this. But looking at her now. Long, dark hair, more than gorgeous figure, and piercing blue eyes, he could only think one thing. She's no Jess. And she never would be.

"I… uh… I have a girlfriend," Nick said instinctively.

"Oh," Michelle said, relief washing over her. "Is that why you moved out, to live with your girlfriend?"

"Not exactly," Nick said. "It's… complicated. She actually still lives in the loft with the other guys."

"Hmm," Michelle said thinking for a moment. "Oh! The pretty brunette with the bangs? That's your girlfriend?"

"Well," Nick said, taking a deep breath. Michelle was pleasant enough, and she meant no ill will, but he was starting to tire of the conversation. "Yes and no. It's… it's complicated."

"Say no more," she said, realizing she was starting to pry. "Say no more."

"Thanks," Nick said apologetically.

Michelle smiled and gave her drink a stir. She checked her watch and then looked to the door of the bar.

"So… is your friend Winston the punctual type?"

"Give or take," Nick replied. "What's old Winnie got in store for you two today?"

"Winnie?" Michelle laughed. "Well, Winnie is going to take me to get Pinks. I'm new to the area, and I've never been."

"Can't go wrong," Nick nodded.

"Then we're going to see a double feature of some old screwball comedies at the art theater over there. I'm actually kind of looking forward to a nice, simple afternoon."

"Winston's a good egg. Between you me and the bar," Nick said, giving the wood a knock with his fist. "I'm pulling for him here."

"That a fact?" Michelle said with a smile.

"Yeah. Just don't tell him I said that. You can tell Coach and Schmidt, but don't tell Winston. Don't want it to go to his head."

"Well, who would want that?"

"And speak of the devil," Nick said, his eyes moving to the door as Winston entered the bar. He'd slipped on a black leather jacket over his blue polo, and his face was captivated when he laid his eyes on Michelle.

"Well, hello there," Winston said smiling, making his way over to her. "You look…. Outstanding."

"Ah, well thank you. I was just getting to know your roommate here."

"Former roommate," Nick interjected.

"Former roommate, right," Michelle said with a smile.

"I hope Nick didn't talk your ear off."

"In what world would I talk anybody's ear off?" Nick asked scowling.

"Good point," Winston said, shrugging. "You about ready, Michelle. Movie starts in about an hour, so…"

"Yep, all set" Michelle said, standing up. She grabbed her jacket and turned to Nick with a smile. "Very nice to meet you Nick. You can tell your associate over there she can stand down now."

Nick furrowed his brow and looked over to Cece, who had stopped with her glass cleaning and stood staring at them, arms folded. He looked back towards Winston and Michelle as they proceeded to leave the bar. Winston held the door open as Michelle exited. He then turned to Nick, animatedly mouthed the words 'Oh My God', and disappeared through the door behind her. Nick smiled and turned back to find Cece inches away.

"So. She was hot," Cece smirked.

"Oh, was she?" Nick offered, trying to return to his book.

"What? Are you going to act like you didn't notice?"

"Oh, I noticed, Cece," he said, giving up. He returned his book to its spot beneath the bar.

"So… not interested? A body like that?"

"Cece, can we…"

"I mean, I'm a model. I see hot women all the time, but even I turned my head a bit at this one."

"That a fact?" Nick muttered, trying to move past her.

"And yet you barely even raise an eyebrow." Cece said, standing back to let Nick through. "You hardly even notice."

"Like I said, I noticed, Cece," Nick said, pausing before he moved past. "I just don't really care."

Cece frowned as Nick moved down the bar, and the turned the corner to the other side. She heard him walk off in the direction of the stockroom, footsteps fading until they disappeared, followed soon by the sound of a closing door. She nodded to herself as very specific thoughts started to enter her mind. Thoughts she'd ignored for weeks now. Thoughts that were probably none of her business. But the thoughts were breaking through, now, and they caused Cece to come to a conclusion: She had kept quiet long enough.

Thanks for reading, guys. Seriously, very cool, and I think I speak for all of us that write that it is most appreciated.