He’s got that perfect smirk on his face while he looks at my boobs and I've got a weird expression that looks like a cross between I have to pee and a bug just crawled up my butt. “Oh my God, what face am I making?”
Kaylee slaps the table. “I think it’s kind of sexy. Screw Jake. This picture should get you your pick of any of the other men in town.”
Perfect, just perfect. Of course the reporters can't capture a moment where I'm giving the camera a sexy, smoldering look in perfect high definition like the models do on Instagram.
"Sorry about the photo, Angie,” Abigail says, “but if you want me to leave it alone, then that’s what I’ll do.” She leaves to head back to the bar.
Fi takes her phone back and places it on the table. I turn to stare at the ocean for a minute. Find your happy place, Angie.
Unfortunately, my happy place is in another dimension where Jake Mann hasn't come back to town forcing me to relive some of my worst memories along with destroying my career and my favorite pirate festival.
Okay, it's the only pirate festival in town. But it kicks ass and I love it. At least I used to. Is there anything he hasn't come back to ruin?
Then it hits me that he's doing it on purpose. I didn't even know that he was back in town. And then, all of a sudden he shows up unannounced at my clinic, signs onto a marketing campaign at said clinic, and then shows up at the Pirate Festival? It's way too much of a coincidence.
"Earth to Angie?" Kaylee says, "it looks like you're thinking particularly important thoughts over there. Care to share?"
"I was just thinking about how coincidental it is that I keep running into Jake over and over again. Considering he's the one who keeps running into me and I didn't even know he was in town."
Fi bangs on the table, startling me. Those two get loud when they get enough Beaky Tiki Punch in them. "That's a very good point,” she says, pouring herself a refill. “I just don't know where you're going with it. And what do you want us to do? Help you avoid him? Run him out of town on a rail? Continue the Pirate war? What?"
Kaylee nods furiously. "Yeah, Angie. Whatever it is, say the word and we're in."
"Thanks, guys. I think I'll just do what I should have done a long time ago."
"Punch him?"
"Graffiti his car? Take a baseball bat to the headlights like that Carrie Underwood song?"
"Talk to him," I answer.
"I don't know," Fi says, "that sounds terrible.”
Kaylee points a chip at me. “It’ll never work. Not after what happened. I mean, you still seem torn up about it."
"I'm an adult. Hopefully he will be too." I say it, but I have my doubts.
Chapter 12
Jake
I pull up to Salt Life. It’s the best beach front sports bar in St. Tropic. I sit in the car and hesitate while I soak it all in. It’s been a long time, after all.
A part of me knows that once I step inside, I’m officially back. This used to be my home base. I might have even more great memories of this place than the actual football field.
And everything about it takes me back to who I used to be. From the music wafting over on the breeze to the bamboo bar with its back to the ocean and the multiple televisions with different games on them.
I spot three of my guys at the bar. Mike, Jimmy, and Stu. They’re early. And that makes me right on time. I saunter over to them like I’m officially entering a time warp. It feels awesome and strange all at the same time.
I wave to old Bill at the back of the bar. “Hey, Bill!”
I see Bill’s white head swivel around and do a double take. A minute later he practically sprints to the bar in front of me where I sit down next to my old high school football team-mates.
“Jake,” Bill says, “as I live and breathe. Welcome back!”
“Thanks, I’ll take a Salt Life Special.” Bill is a craft beer guru. If you walk into this place and order a Budweiser, then you’re a sucker. And I’m not a sucker. I throw a fifty-dollar bill on the counter. “I’ll need you to keep them coming, Bill. I missed this place. And you too.”
Bill disappears in a jiffy and comes back with the bottle. “You’re money’s no good here, son. You’re a Shark!”
“Hey,” Mike says. “We’re Sharks too. You take our money all the time.”
“Well, you’re not playing on Sundays,” Bill counters with a smile. Then the smile evaporates as he does the math. “Hey, wait a minute. What are you doing back here in the middle of the season?”
I point to my left foot even though he can’t see it behind the bar. “Ankle injury.”
Bill shakes his head. “Sorry to hear it, son. Let me know if you need anything.”
Bill disappears back inside the bar leaving me and the boys with the ocean breeze, the barely audible sound of sports commentators, and our beers.
“Hey, guys. Where’s Alan and Wayne?” I used to come back all the time in between college seasons, but not since I got drafted. It’s been years, and I was hoping all the guys could make it to one guy’s night.
“Oh, you know,” Stu says, “Wayne’s wife’s about to go into labor and Alan didn’t get that promotion so he had to work tonight.”
I hold up my beer. “Okay, then. To us.” We clink our bottles and yell, turning a few heads and then things simmer down.
“What’s it like being in the League?” Jimmy asks. “Is it like all those television documentaries? Because I watch the shit out of those.”
“Yeah, Jimmy. It’s just like that.” I laugh.
“No shit? I’m asking for real.”
“Training camp sucks the most, man. If you can make it
