She finished her chapter and her drink and motioned for her check. If she transferred her tab to the bar, Brady would get her tip instead of the waitress who’d been with her all afternoon. Keisha left a generous tip, and walked on slightly tipsy feet to prepare herself in the bathroom before she confronted him.
She felt somewhat nervous, somewhat ashamed, somewhat felt guilty, but mostly she was just plain pissed off that not only had he stolen from her, but he’d stolen something so important. Even giving him the benefit of the doubt that he didn’t know what was in the bottle, he knew the board was incredibly important to her. Stealing was stealing, and she didn’t like that at all. But emotions and motives didn’t really matter any more. She just wanted it back.
Keisha sidled up to the bar and took a vacant seat toward the end as far away from other customers as she could get. Down at the opposite end, Brady, with scabbed lip and all, smiled and nodded as he handed out a few draft beers to a few kids who barely looked of age. One of the patrons pointed to Brady’s chin and asked something Keisha couldn’t hear.
“Yeah, well, you should’ve seen the other guy.” Then, “I’ll be right back.”
He wiped his hands on a towel and walked toward her. She lowered her glasses. Halfway there his mouth twisted in surprise then he smirked.
“Well now,” he said. “This is unexpected. What are you doing here? And waiting so patiently too, not even checking your phone.”
“Spare me the drama.” Keisha rolled her eyes. “You took something that belongs to me and I want it back.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, hands up in mock surrender. A glint of arrogant defiance flashed across his grey eyes.
“You are fucking pathetic. I’ve heard about all these beta bitches that would leave behind glasses or jewelry or something in an attempt to force a guy to see them again, but I have never in my life heard of a guy stealing so he could see a girl again. That might actually be the most pitiful thing I’ve ever experienced.”
That wiped the smug expression from his face. All those Bloody Marys had both loosened and sharpened her tongue.
“Beta,” he said, and laughed to himself. “That’s harsh.”
“Yeah well…”
“You’re not wrong though. I guess you took something from me last night, my pride, my feelings, whatever, doesn’t matter, so I took something, something I knew was important, from you.”
“And that makes you a gigantic asshole.” Keisha resisted the urge to leap to her feet and scream at him.
“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said.
Someone whistled down at the other end of the bar.
“Sorry, I gotta check on them. I’ll be right back. Here, on me,” he said and slid her a beer across the bar.
Keisha took a long gulp thinking about what he said, what she’d done to provoke him, and what she’d do next. His apologetic, defeated demeanor took a lot of the tension away, as did the beer and she drank half of it by the time he returned.
“Okay, this is a pretty busy time, I can’t really talk, but I’m really sorry and I want to fix this.”
“So give it back. It’s pretty simple.” She grinned at him, booze doing its work as her rage was coming out almost flirty.
“I will,” he said. “I have to work till about ten then maybe I can bring it over?”
“Okay,” she agreed. “Thank you. But don’t get any ideas, I just want it back.”
“I have no ulterior motive. I may have at the beginning, but you’re right. It’s pretty sad,” he said. “I shouldn’t have taken it and I’m sorry.”
“Good. And glad to see your face is recovering, it doesn’t look that bad.”
He looked puzzled, then winced as he smiled and felt the pain in his lip. She drained the rest of her drink and headed to her apartment wondering what exactly was going through his head, and her own for that matter. Once inside, the hair of the dog kicked in double time and she crashed on the couch, not waking until well after the sun went down.