Page 49 of Tap Left
“Well Ryan isn’t here, is he?”
Julian glances up at me and shakes his head. “Have you told her the truth yet?”
“She knows the only truth she needs to.”
“How long will you punish yourself, Daire?” he asks. “What will it take for you to move on with your life?”
“Why don’t you just fuck off with that bullshit. This is about Lola and the fact that I did what you never had the balls to do.”
He stops pacing and stares at me like I’m the biggest piece of garbage he’s ever known. It wouldn’t be far off, considering he was only ever friends with me because of Ryan.
“I never went after her because I respected Ryan,” he says. “That’s called loyalty, Daire. But you wouldn’t know anything about that.”
It’s time to take him down a notch. “Do you think Ryan gave a fuck about Lola?” I laugh. “The only thing Ryan cared about was getting high. Everything else was just a decoration in the landscape of his fucked-up life.”
Julian shakes his head. “I know what Ryan would have wanted for her, and it wasn’t this.”
“So what then?” I challenge. “Someone like you?”
“She doesn’t want me,” he answers. “For some reason that I’ll never be able to grasp, she’s always wanted you, Daire. But we both know that you aren’t capable of giving her what she needs.”
“I give her what she needs,” I answer lewdly.
“You can’t even take care of yourself,” Julian points out. “That’s a fact. And I saw the way Lola looked at you tonight. This isn’t just sex for her. That girl is in love with you.”
My chest feels like it’s caving in. “She doesn’t love me.”
Julian looks at me, and I know he believes what he’s telling me.
“She does. But eventually, Daire, she’s going to learn what’s best for her. And she’s going to realize that it isn’t you. So if you care about her at all, if you are even capable of that, then do both of you a favor. End it now.”
18
Lola
Mondaysat the shop are generally about as exciting as waiting in line at the DMV, but this one is not. I can't seem to figure out the why of it. Within the first twenty minutes of opening, there are a mad dash of customers. Well-caffeinated from the shop down the street, they roam the shelves with shrewd eyes, seeking out their next read before someone else can snatch it from them.
I am not mentally prepared for this and Britt’s eyes seem to have glazed over at some point during the day. But somehow, we get through it. And when I crunch the sales numbers at lunch, I’m tickled to learn that we've had more in one morning then I usually have in an entire week.
"What the heck is going on today?" Britt slumps into the chair behind the register and stares longingly at her abandoned phone.
I glance out the window to check for an explanation. On rare occasions, there have been spurts of activity that stemmed from other events happening on the street, but that doesn’t seem to be the case today. "I have no idea.”
Something feels fishy. If I connect the dots, it would lead me back to ThatGuy. I sent him the numbers, but not the business name. Still, it’s a bizarre coincidence. I haven't heard from him in a couple days, so I decide to play it cool.
LolaB:
Hey.
ThatGuy:
You don't even want to know what Mr. Ellis is doing in the meeting right now.
LolaB:
No, I really don't think I want to. I'll leave that special treat just for you.
ThatGuy:
