Oh God, Daff thinks, not seeing Laura. Can this get any worse?
PJ’s has always been a thriving restaurant, but for years the large deck overlooking the water had been underused.
Occasionally they hosted weddings on the deck, and they had a few plastic tables and chairs, but it wasn’t until new owners took over and transformed it into a bar that PJ’s became a serious destination.
They started singles nights on Thursdays and Sundays, live bands on Saturdays, and quickly found that people came from miles away to cram onto the deck, drink frozen margaritas, flirt with the cute barmen they employed every summer. If there is such a thing as a professional singles scene, then PJ’s is the epicenter, the place where singles, divorcées and even the secretly married come looking for adventure, come to find love.
Perhaps not love. There is something too mercenary about the people here, they look jaded, look like they’re too busy searching to ever actually find—the thrill is all about the chase, the flirtation, the conquest, rather than finding a happy ever after.
“Hello!” Daff is leaning on the bar waiting for the barman to notice her, figuring that at least if she has a drink in hand it will give her something to do while she waits for Laura to arrive. She looks down to see a short man with a large smile grinning lasciviously at her.
“Hello,” she says, turning back to the barman, willing him to come over, to notice her, to get her a drink so she can get away from this man.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” he says. “I’m Adam.”
“Hi.” She doesn’t want to tell him her name, but nor does she want to appear rude. “I’m Daff,” she says eventually, hoping that if she sounds unfriendly he might go away.
“So is this your first time?”
“Um, yes.”
“Divorced?”
“Yes.”
“Me too. Can I get you a drink?”
“I don’t know. Can you?” Daff is now exasperated. “I’ve been standing here for about fifteen minutes and the barmen haven’t even noticed me.”
“Hey! Nick!” Adam cups his hands around his mouth and hollers. “Get over here and get the lady a drink!” The barman looks over and grins at him, and seconds later Daff is sipping a strawberry daiquiri.
“Thanks,” she says with a smile. “That was very kind of you.”
“I suffer from knight in shining armor syndrome,” he says. “How about trying to find a table so we can sit down and get to know one another?”
“That’s . . . well . . . I’m meeting friends and I think I should probably stay by the bar.”
“Okey-dokey. Fine by me. So tell me all about yourself, Daff. Why is a beautiful woman like yourself coming to a place like PJ’s on a Thursday night?”
Damn good question, Daff thinks. Why indeed?
An hour later Daff stands up, ready to go. Adam, while not her type in the slightest, has been her savior, for Laura has not appeared, and Daff is ready to kill her, but at least she has not had to stand around looking desperate, and has been able to have a perfectly fine conversation with Adam.
“Leaving so soon?” Adam says, when Daff finally says she really has to get home.
“I need to get back for the babysitter,” she lies. “But thank you again.”
“Let me walk you to your car.” Adam jumps off his bar stool and takes her arm. Daff stiffens. This was not what she had in mind, but her car is close, and soon she will be rid of him, safely back at home.
“Can I call you?” Adam says, as Daff presses the button to unlock the doors.
“You know, you’ve been very sweet,” Daff says, “but I’m really not ready to date anyone just yet.”
“Who said anything about dating?” Adam grins. “I was just hoping for a kiss goodnight.”
Daff looks at him in horror.
“I’m kidding,” he says, and she forces a laugh.
“Seriously, though,” he persists, “I’d really like your number. I’m not looking to date anyone either, but perhaps you and I could make one another happy in different ways.” He raises a confident eyebrow at her.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, don’t you get lonely going to bed by yourself every night? I find friends with benefits to be the easiest solution. You and I both stand to win. No commitment, just passion.” He growls on the last word and moves closer, putting an arm around Daff’s waist.
“Oh Jesus,” Daff groans, shoving him away and getting in the car, gunning the engine without waiting to see what