THE MINUTE ROBERTA LA VISTA WALKED UP TO KEVIN THAT night, he should have known it was bullshit.
Women like that don’t walk up to guys like Kevin. Women like that don’t walk up to anybody. Not unless it’s some kind of bullshit.
And yet there she was: silk dress, Italian shoes, every college-educated inch of her screaming bullshit.
She had to be close to six feet tall and built like an athlete who hadn’t seen the field in a while. I don't know how much a dress like that costs, but it flowed like liquid over skin the color of the old, polished wood of the bar.
She walked in all cool and methodical, dark eyes steady under a cloud of hair that was fine and wild.
Looking up at her, all of us sitting there had the same thought: Why the hell would somebody like that come in here?
If Kevin’s head was screwed on right, he’d have asked himself the same question.
When she sat down next to him, he should have seen that her makeup was piled on too thick and that her smile came too quickly. He should have noticed that her words and phrases probably weren’t the ones they use up at Columbia where she told him she got her law degree.
Women like that don’t walk up to guys like Kevin. Women like that don’t walk up to anybody. Not unless it’s some kind of bullshit.
And yet there she was: silk dress, Italian shoes, every college-educated inch of her screaming bullshit.
She had to be close to six feet tall and built like an athlete who hadn’t seen the field in a while. I don't know how much a dress like that costs, but it flowed like liquid over skin the color of the old, polished wood of the bar.
She walked in all cool and methodical, dark eyes steady under a cloud of hair that was fine and wild.
Looking up at her, all of us sitting there had the same thought: Why the hell would somebody like that come in here?
If Kevin’s head was screwed on right, he’d have asked himself the same question.
When she sat down next to him, he should have seen that her makeup was piled on too thick and that her smile came too quickly. He should have noticed that her words and phrases probably weren’t the ones they use up at Columbia where she told him she got her law degree.
But Kevin didn’t get it. He was four drinks and a couple of substances into his Tuesday evening and a week removed from another failed relationship. He was out of work, off his meds, behind on his bills, and hanging onto an hour-old, half-dead glass of beer because there wasn’t enough cash in his wallet to pay for another one
All of which was A-OK with him. Kevin was curled over the bar, scribbling cartoons onto cocktail napkins like a five-year-old kid whose mother had left him there on her way to run an errand. He had a silly, uneven grin on his face and he was mumbling and gigling under his breath. It’s what Kevin did for a living. He drew cartoons.
And he was good at it. He’d done work for magazines and big brands, and one of his comic strips even had a decent following on social media. But he was never the easiest guy to work with and things got worse over time. He’d shout at people who weren’t there, or get angry about things that never happened. Eventually, the work got stale and the schtick got old, and before he knew it Kevin was alone again and broke with no prospects and no future plans. Not that he cared or even noticed. The only thing that mattered to him was the work
And he was good at it. He’d done work for magazines and big brands, and one of his comic strips even had a decent following on social media. But he was never the easiest guy to work with and things got worse over time. He’d shout at people who weren’t there, or get angry about things that never happened. Eventually, the work got stale and the schtick got old, and before he knew it Kevin was alone again and broke with no prospects and no future plans. Not that he cared or even noticed. The only thing that mattered to him was the work
Besides, this wasn’t his first rodeo. Kevin’s life was like an irregular heartbeat rolling out across an old fashioned monitor. You knew the spikes and dips were coming, you just didn’t know when or how severe they’d be.
And so there he was, on the second-to-last stool from the right at the Lemon-Lime Lounge, drawing a five-headed dog onto a cocktail napkin when a woman’s voice spoke to him over his shoulder.
“Is this seat taken?” Roberta asked.
Kevin looked up and instantly fell in love. “I am a great and powerful nation,” he told her.
She looked at him like whatever and said, “Yeah, baby, and I’m the queen of Astoria Boulevard.”
The conversation didn’t take long after that. As I watched them walk out, I knew it was trouble. But what the hell, it’s not like anybody was asking my opinion.
The conversation didn’t take long after that. As I watched them walk out, I knew it was trouble. But what the hell, it’s not like anybody was asking my opinion.
End of Chapter 1
Keep reading to uncover what happens next.
