Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,31
friend Sofia, who I’ve known since my eyebrow waxing days, to see if she’s available to hang out.
We settle on a seedy bar on South First. Sofia is already there when I arrive, her glossy black hair falling in waves down her back.
She chats with the bartender, who looks like he wants to gobble her up.
I can tell from this distance that she’s not interested, even though he seems like her type. Tall, lanky, easily amused.
Sofia is perpetually single. Her family is large and friendly, and I have often spent a happy Sunday in the chaos, chili rellenos being stuffed at the table, and children running amok. But she feels oppressed by it all. She likes quiet. Men always want to get all up in her space, so she dumps them by date three.
I slide into the seat beside her. “Hey friend,” I say, a mischievous bolt striking through me. “Where’s your husband? Or did you leave this one, too?”
The bartender makes a face and steps back. “Let me know if you need anything.” He takes off down the bar like we’re on fire.
Sofia laughs. “You’re the best anti-wingman.”
“But that one seemed like your type.”
She runs a finger along the rim of the glass. “Too pushy. How’s the tanning business today?”
“Light. But I have a hectic Saturday with two competitions.”
“Any hot guys you can toss my way?” She always asks, but I’m clear I’m never going to set her up with any of my clients. She would break their hearts, and my business model.
“No. But one seems interested in me.”
“Oh? Does dear brother Franklin know about this?”
I wave at the bartender to try to get a drink, but he ignores us. Great. They always shoot the messenger. “He’s his training partner.”
Sofia smacks her hand on the bar. “Get out of town! And he hasn’t already castrated this dude for looking at you?”
“I don’t think Franklin has figured out this one wants to be more than a client.”
Sofia smacks the bar again. “Camryn! Are you banging some hot guy and haven’t told me?”
Several customers at the bar turn our way. Sofia likes to be heard. I’m used to it.
“I’m not banging him. I’m just saying he’s interested. But because of the Franklin situation, I’m nervous about it.”
“That brother of yours needs to stay out of your business.”
“I know. But I can’t change how he is.”
“He clocked that guy last year for talking to you.”
“I know.” A second bartender, a woman this time, appears from the back and walks along the bar. I signal for her attention. Maybe I’ll get a drink after all.
“So, tell me all about him,” Sofia says.
The new bartender approaches, and I order a hard cider before launching into my explanation of Max.
“He’s a heavyweight. Pure muscle. Gorgeous. Kind.”
“Oh my God! Does he have a brother?”
“Two. He’s not unknown around here.”
Sofia narrows her eyes. “You’re not dating a politician, are you? Because I don’t think I can handle it if you’re dating a politician.”
“Why did you go for politics? We’re in L.A! He could be an actor.”
Sofia shakes her head. “No. You don’t go for boys like that.”
“All right, fine. He owns a deli. L.A. Pickle.”
“Oh! Right. The Pickle brothers. What’s the name of this one?”
“Max. He’s forever bringing me sandwiches when he comes for tans.”
“That’s sweet. I might prefer it if he brought diamonds, though.”
I elbow her. “We’re not even dating.”
“But you’re thinking about it.”
The bartender sets my drink down, and I wrap both hands around the glass. “So, what should I do? Keep this relationship on the down-low? Lie to my brother? Or avoid this man and the drama?”
Sofia takes a sip, pondering. “You like this one.”
“I think so.”
“And he seems to be onboard with not giving your brother any savory details?”
“He didn’t tell him anything at all until Franklin asked him about his tan.”
Sofia twirls her glass. “They’re training partners. That’s one hell of a secret to keep.”
“We’re doing it so far.”
“I guess you’ve seen him naked if you’re tanning him, right?”
“Several times.”
Sofia shakes her head. “Girl, you know that’s not even fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
“You got your hands all over his hard body. He has to prance around naked for you.”
“It can’t be helped. It’s part of my job.”
She nods. “It’s still weird, though. Can you pawn him off on some other tanning artist if you’re going to date him?”
“And let her have her hands all over his naked body?”
“You’re right. Forget I said that. But I wonder about all that nakedness affecting whether or