“So, what are you hiding from?”
Hanna jumped. She looked up from her book, and into the gently smiling face of the bartender. The cute bartender, a traitorous voice said in the back of her mind, but she ignored it.
“Excuse me?”
His smile grew. “You’re in a dive bar, on a Tuesday night, nursing a rum and Coke and reading a book. You gotta be hiding from something.”
She glanced down, at the half-drunk glass and the half-read book. “You got me,” she said, flicking her gaze back to his. “My roommate’s girlfriend just moved in, and they are going at it.”
He raised his eyebrows. “And you can hear it?”
She sighed. “Well, they insist on doing it in the living room.”
His eyebrows went higher, and he choked on a laugh. “They do?”
Hanna frowned, not quite sure what he meant. Then she realized what she had said, and she felt her cheeks flush. “They are fighting. In the living room. Not…” she trailed off.
“Other activities?” he said, his eyes bright with humor.
“No, not other activities,” she confirmed. “I think,” she hesitated, “honestly, that the fighting is foreplay. Hence, hiding out here.” She lifted the book vaguely.
“Ah.”
She nodded, unsure what else to say. She had already told him more than he needed, or probably wanted, to know about her life.
“It sounds like you might become a regular,” he said, and held out his right hand. “I’m Jason.”
She reached out slowly, grasping his hand in hers. She gave it a brief shake before retreating.
“Hanna.”
“Nice to meet you, Hanna.”
She didn’t like the way her insides fluttered. He was a bartender, and that was his job, right? Making sure the customers felt comfortable and seen, so they’d buy more booze or come back another night. But even knowing that, she still wanted to talk to him.
“You too.” Of course, she didn’t know what else to say.
Jason leaned against the bar, surveying the room. It wasn’t crowded, otherwise she would have felt guilty at taking up his time.
“So,” he said, eyes back on her, smile in place. “What do you do when you aren’t reading in bars?”
“I’m an admin assistant at the history museum.”
“The big one downtown? There’s an exhibit about local musicians right now, right?”
Hanna grinned. “Yeah, there is. It’s a really great exhibit. I work with the rotating collection department, so I got to see it go up. You like history?”
“History is cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the music part that piqued my interest.” His smile seemed so authentic, so genuine. What is he doing talking to you? a nasty little voice whispered. She ignored it. She already knew, he was doing his job.
“So you like music?”
Jason’s smile got even bigger, if that was possible. “Oh, yeah, I love music. When I’m not slinging drinks here, I’m a composer.”
“Really? That’s so cool. What kind of music do you write?”
He looked a little sheepish all of a sudden. “Well, I write a lot of-” he heard someone shout his name, and stopped, glancing around. A different bartender was waving him over.
“Sorry, be right back,” he said, lingering for a moment before walking away.
“No worries,” she said quietly, sure he didn’t hear her. She stared at her rum and Coke, watched as the beads of condensation slid down the side. What are you doing? the critical voice in her head scolded. She’s talking to a cute guy, who likes her, a more hopeful voice piped up. The first one scoffed. He’s not interested. He’s just doing his job. No one flirts with her, so why would she think he is?
The voice was right, Hanna knew it. No one ever flirted with her. She sometimes wondered why, but in the end she just drove herself crazy wondering. Better to just make it through the interaction, be friendly, and move on. She was about to pick up her book again when Jason made his way back over to her section of the bar.
“Sorry about that,” he said, leaning forward again and bringing their faces level. “Question about someone’s tab.”
“Don’t worry about it, you’re working. I should probably let you get back to it.”
He looked around the nearly empty bar. “Yeah, I think we’re fine.”
Hanna ignored the tingle when he said “we.” He’s doing his job, he’s doing his job, she repeated, like a depressing mantra.
“What were we talking about?”
“You were about to tell me about the music you write.”
She could have sworn he blushed, but it was probably just the lighting.
“Oh, yeah, that. Well, I mostly write classical stuff, like for piano, you know?”
“Really?” She loved piano music.
“Yeah,” he said. “I know, who listens to piano music anymore?”
“I love it,” she said, and she cursed her cheeks for their betrayal.
“Cool.” He grinned again. He needed to stop doing that.
There was an awkward silence. Hanna wracked her brain, trying to come up with something to say, but her mind was just empty. She didn’t really do small-talk very often.
Finally, Jason broke the silence. “So,” he said, tapping his fingers on her book, “what are you reading?”
“Um,” she mumbled, “well, it’s kind of hard to explain.”
He just looked at her, expectantly.
Hanna sighed, flipping over the book to show him the cover. “Well, it’s an urban fantasy novel, right, which means that it’s set in our world but has supernatural elements. So, it’s mostly about this vampire hunter who finds out that vampires can walk in the daylight when they eat a certain plant, so they are out causing mayhem in this town, and she pairs up with a witch to try and stop them, only to find out the witch is also half-vampire, but only after she fell in love with her. It’s,” she finished, lamely, “hard to describe without just reading it. I always feel crazy trying to describe the books I read.”
Jason did look a little bemused, but didn’t seem to think she was crazy. “It sounds cool. I watch a lot of science fiction shows, so I understand.”
That smile was going to be the death of her. She couldn’t tell if he was being nice, if he was bored and needed a distraction, or if he actually liked her. And if he did like her, did he like her, or just as friends? She should abort now, just get out before she got too confused.
She glanced down at her watch, and made a little noise of surprise. “Is it really 10pm?”
Jason turned, looking at the clock on the wall behind him, and she saw the edge of a tattoo on the back of his neck. She wondered what it looked like, and an image of Jason without his shirt flooded her mind, and she knew she really needed to get out of there, even if it wasn’t so late.
“Yeah, I guess it is,” he said, and looked surprised when he turned back and saw her packing up her things. “You need to go, I guess?”
She couldn’t see his expression, since she was shoving her book in her purse. “Yeah, it’s way later than I meant to stay out.” She stood, backing away from the bar. “I already paid for the drink when I got it,” she said in a rush, trying not to look at him.
“Yeah, I know. Hey, Hanna,” he said, and her eyes went to his against her better judgment. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah, sure,” she said, and hurried from the bar.
She didn’t live far, so she had walked. It was a warm night, and the moon was full, making the walk back rather pleasant. She couldn’t enjoy it, though, because her interaction with Jason kept playing through her mind. Was he flirting with me? she wondered. She even stopped in front of a dark house, torn between just going home and forgetting everything, and going back to demand an answer to the question zinging around her mind.
Her feet took over, and before she knew it, she was back in front of the bar. She hesitated outside the door. What was she doing here? Really? He was just being nice. Just nice. He wasn’t interested in her. But what if… The question propelled her back into the building. She took a deep breath, before walking over to where Jason stood by himself at the bar. He looked surprised to see her, but she couldn’t tell if it was a good, bad, or neutral surprised.
“Did you forget something?”
“Kind of,” she said. She swallowed, then spoke in a rush. “Were you flirting with me?”
His eyes widened, and there was that trick of the light again. Or was he really blushing?
“Well,” he said, “yeah. Yeah, I was.”
“Okay, then.” Her mind went blank as reason was overwhelmed by fireworks going off in her head.
He grinned at her, and she felt something blossom in her chest. He grabbed a napkin and a pen, and scribbled something.
“Here,” he said, handing it to her. “My number. If you want to get coffee, or something.”
“Thanks,” she said, still in a daze. She turned to leave again, but she heard his soft voice behind her.
“Hanna?”
She turned back.
“I’ll see you soon, right?”
She nodded, unable to do anything but smile widely back.
The whole way home, her heart raced, and her hands shook, but the grin never left her face.
© The Lightning Tower, 2020