Summer wrapped up a little too quickly for my liking, and Junior year chugged along. Kelsey and I made ourselves right at home with our sorority sisters, and it didn't take very long for us to get used to the chaos of the house.

Kels and I had concluded that I should take a break from dating. Since I had arrived here in the city over two years ago now, I had always been in some sort of relationship. I thought maybe I needed a 'boy detox.' It was going well so far. I was enjoying just focusing on myself, my studies, and growing closer to my sisters.

There were six bedrooms in the house. There were two girls to a room and each room had a connecting bathroom. Naturally Kelsey and I stuck together. Though there was an adjustment period we had to go through to get used to sharing a room again, it wasn't long until we fell into a comfortable routine.

Work was becoming more tedious, considering it was a much longer walk now that I had moved. But now I had no rent, and I had sold my car before I left La Push, so I had no car payment either. I had little to no bills, so the money I made I was putting straight into my savings, so I could have a nice little chunk of change for when I graduated.

Walking to my shift, I tried to stay positive. It was a Friday night, so I knew we'd be busy, which meant I'd be making good money. Taking my coat off when I arrived, and giving my manager a casual greeting, I took my position behind the bar without much fuss. "Hey, baby, can I get a Budweiser over here?" I heard a strong Brooklyn accent shout my way.

Grabbing the Bud from the beer cooler, and popping the top of for the gentlemen I set it down in front of him, "I'm not your girlfriend, so don't call me baby. That'll be six dollars."

He handed me a ten and told me to keep the change. I smiled at him in gratitude. "Can I get an old-fashioned?" I heard a smooth voice from my right. Glancing up, my eyes were met with a handsome man. He was probably six foot, black hair that was cropped short, blue eyes, smooth olive skin, and a smile to die for. He looked Italian, maybe even middle-eastern. I smiled at him and gave him a nod to acknowledge his request.

Handing him the mixed drink with a smile, I said, "That'll be twelve dollars, sir."

He handed me a crisp, new, twenty, "It's yours." He winked at me. And I gave him a small smile in return. Glancing around the bar, I vaguely wondered if there was some sort of event going on downtown. We were dead. Especially for a Friday. "I like the way you handled yourself over there," I heard the man say politely to me.

Looking up at him again, I saw him gesturing towards the man from Brooklyn, "You just have to know how to deal with people." I shrugged.

"Well, if I can't call you baby, what can I call you?" He questioned further.

I looked up at him through my lashes. He was older than me, probably in his late twenties, maybe even early thirties. I glanced at his left hand. No wedding band. "Claire," I told him quietly before moving on to help another customer.

"Claire," he said, "Well, Claire, I'm Brendan. It has been a pleasure meeting you," he held out his hand, and I took it in my own, giving him a firm hand-shake, like I had been taught in one of my business classes.

He hung out there most of the night. Asking me random questions here and there. He was never pushy though, like most of the guys that hit on me while I was working. When I was with another customer, he left me to it, allowing me to focus on work without his distractions, but he always drifted back when I was through. And towards the end of the night, I found myself gravitating towards him as well.

"I'm studying journalism," I told him. "I started interning at Time a few months ago. It's been hard work, but I know it'll be worth it in the end." He smiled at me, and began to say something when my manager gave me the cue to make the last call. Brendan was the only customer left at the bar. "Last call. Can I get you anything else tonight?"

"I think I'm all set here but… would it be absurd of me to ask for your number before I go?"

I glanced at him nervously. "Listen, you seem like a really great guy. I truly mean that too, I'm not just giving you the typical speech. It's just, since I moved out here, I've had really bad luck with men, and I've kind of sworn them off for the time being."

He sighed, and looked at me thoughtfully, "I'm not one to try and sway a woman's decision. I can accept your rejection, and on behalf of the male population I'd like to apologize. We can be asshole's sometimes, I know." He stood, and put his coat on, as the other bartender came behind him and started stacking the chairs. "But if you decide anything changes, I'd love to take you out and change your mind about the men of the city. Can't have a few bad eggs giving us a bad reputation, right?" He earned a laugh from me, and seemingly satisfied with that, he handed me his business card, and a folded-up bill. "You have a wonderful night, Mrs. Young."

I glanced in my hand. He had given me a one-hundred-dollar-bill.

That night when I got home, Kelsey and I immediately put on some face-masks, and got to work Facebook stalking him. Brendan Thompson. 31 years old. An extremely successful attorney. He graduated from Harvard, and moved back to New York to take over his Dad's firm when his father fell ill. Kelsey sighed, "I think he's dreamy."

The next day when I arrived at work, my manager called me back to his office. "Someone sent these for you," he grumbled, shoving a bouquet of roses at me, and pricking me with a thorn.

Claire,

Just wanted to thank you for your great service last night. I sincerely hope that's not the last we see of each other.

Thanks,

Brendan Thompson

And I received similar every day for the following month:

Claire,

I'm convinced you make the best old fashioned in town.

Brendan

Claire,

Hope your day was well.

Brendan

Claire,

"He who wants a rose must respect the thorn."

Claire,

"Where flowers bloom, so does hope."

I was surprised to feel a slight twinge of disappointment when, on the day that would've made a month straight, I was not met with flowers or a note. Slightly disgruntled, I went about preparing for my shift. I was polishing glasses when I heard a familiar voice behind me. "I'll take an old-fashioned, please." I twirled around to see Brendan with a bouquet of roses in hand, and his smile lighting up the room. I couldn't help the grin that broke out across my face. "You didn't think I had forgotten about you, did you?"

I smirked, "Well, I was a little worried. I mean, you haven't given me any indication that I made an impression on you."

I served him his drink, and he took a sip. "Best old-fashioned in town," he winked at me. "What do you say, Claire? Can I take you to dinner?"

I was thoughtful for a moment. "I think I can manage that," I giggled, writing my number down on a napkin for him.