Fall to Pieces - Shari J. Ryan
Chapter One
Chance
The antique brass bell on the door clangs, greeting another patron into this somber-lit muggy bar that has been rotting on the corner of Smith Street for the last hundred years. I don’t know why, but the damp stone walls and sticky-film-covered hardwoods make for a good local hot spot in town.
Out of habit, I peer over my shoulder at every person who strolls through the door. It’s usually the same crowd every day, but occasionally a new face will wander inside. He or she instantly becomes the focus of everyone’s attention.
My brows furrow as I observe a petite brunette with a blunt-cut bob walk inside. Compared to the rest of us here, she appears a little too polished with her business-casual attire to walk into this rundown, hole-in-the-wall bar, especially alone at night.
This girl has a mysterious look in her eyes, and her rigid stature highlights a sense of confidence. She didn’t accidentally stumble upon this bar. There is an obvious purpose as she falls heavily down onto a bar stool.
Despite my desire to find out who she is and why someone like her would choose this bar of all bars, I’m not looking to be the idiot who approaches her. I’m sure she must have a boyfriend hiding in the shadows just waiting for someone to say hi to her. I’m certain someone will.
“Sorry, hey, bro. It’s slammed tonight. How was your day?” Luke, my buddy and owner of this joint, places my drink down on a coaster before spinning around to tend to his next order.
“No worries, man. My day wasn’t bad. How about you?” I talk loud enough so he can hear me while racing down the length of the bar. I’m used to having conversations with him while he circles around shaking drinks, popping bottle caps, and scribbling down food orders on a notepad. He’s a pro at multitasking.
“It was quiet until an hour ago. Now, I don’t know what’s going on here. You’d expect I was offering free booze.”
“Are you?” I joke back.
Luke shakes his head and grunts. “Definitely not. I’ve got your burger cookin’ in the back. It shouldn’t be too long.”
“Thanks a bunch.” I’m starving and thankful I don’t have to sit through a bunch of orders. It’s always nice to have the perk of being friends with the owner. Perks, it seems this new girl would like in on. She’s drumming her pink-tinted fingernails against the bar-top and her knee is bouncing a mile a minute.
After tossing two beers to the other side of the bar, Luke notices the girl sitting a few seats down, staring at him with evident impatience.
“What can I get for you, miss?”
The girl scans the back shelf as if searching for the perfect bottle of liquor. Either that or she doesn’t know what she wants. “I’ll have a glass of whiskey,” she states, her words razor sharp.
“What kind of whiskey are you in the mood for?” Luke asks. It isn’t a question he has to ask often. Most people know what they want and how they want it when they order here.
“Surprise me,” the girl says with a shrug.
I catch the look in Luke’s eye as he turns for the shelf of bottles behind him. He’s wondering what she’s doing here too. Women don’t typically seem pulled to this place even if they do like whiskey—all whiskey, without preference. Luke grabs the bottle of Jim Beam, the weakest of his whiskeys, and pours a splash into a glass.
“Maybe you’ll enjoy this one, young lady,” he says, setting the drink down in front of her. Luke sends another questioning look in my direction. I can assume he’s wondering why she didn’t stop him from pouring the Jim Beam. It isn’t a first choice around here.
The girl raises the glass to her nose and draws in a whiff. Her ears flinch back, and her small nose scrunches. Only connoisseurs smell their whiskey before consuming the shit. It isn’t a rose, and she most unquestionably is unfamiliar with the taste of whiskey.
Snow White purses her lips and presses them to the glass before taking a quick taste, just enough to wet her tongue. Another rookie mistake—just drink the damn shit. She sniffles as she places the glass back down on her coaster. “It’s good, thank you,” she says to Luke. I wasn’t expecting to hear that response.
Luke gives her a quick wink and grabs the bottle of Jim Beam to fill more of her glass. “I can add a