News Blues by Marianne Mancusi Read Free Book Online

elsewhere? Find
     someone smarter? Cooler? Oh, this was probably all my fault. I’d broken up my entire family with my callous eye rolling.
    Yup. Here came the tears. Perfect. I could feel several people staring at me as I swiped at my eyes. Of course. Why wouldn’t
     they stare? I was a loser sitting in a packed bar, by myself, drinking a Cosmo (sorry, Kosmo) and crying my eyes out.
    Loser with a capital “L, ” that was me.
    “Are you okay, Maddy?”
    Oh no, I’d been spotted by someone who knew me! How embarrassing. I looked up to see who had discovered me in my less than
     desirable, probably raccoon-eyed state.
    It was Jamie. What was he doing here?
    “Oh. Hi, ” I said, grabbing a napkin and blotting my eyes. “Yes, I’m fine. Bad allergies this time a year.”
    Man, I was such a terrible liar. I wondered if it was something you could take classes for at the Learning Annex. They had
     everything else under the sun—why not Lying 101?
    “Can I sit down?”
    “Um, sure.” Man, he probably thought I was the biggest dork on the planet. First there was that whole price tag on the skirt
     thing earlier. I was pretty positive he didn’t buy the idea that it was cool to leave price tags on. Now he’d found me sitting
     at a bar by myself, crying into my drink. Great.
    He took the chair across from me and propped his elbows on the table. He looked good. He’d added a well-worn leather jacket
     over the black T-shirt he had on earlier. It gave him a slightly rebellious look. Just bad boy enough to look cool, but not
     skanky.
    “I was riding by on my motorcycle, on my way to check out the beach, and I saw you sitting here. Are you sure you’re okay?”
    Why yes, I’m fine. Like I said, allergies . . .
    Oh, what the hell.
    “Not exactly, ” I blurted, against my better judgment. I barely knew this guy, but suddenly I couldn’t help the flow of words
     spewing from my lips. Alcohol did that to me. Jodi even had a nickname for me in this state—Loose Lips Lola.
    And so I spilled the whole sordid tale to a guy I barely knew. To his credit, Jamie listened to the whole 411 on my family
     situation without interrupting once.
    “Wow, ” he said as I finished the tale. “You’ve had a tough day, huh?” He reached over and squeezed my hand. In any other
     circumstance, the move might have seemed a bold come-on. But at that moment, it was simply a gesture of comfort. One I definitely
     appreciated.
    “Yup. You could say that.”
    Before he could respond, the waiter appeared to take his drink order.
    “Do you have Mojitos?” he asked, picking up a drinks menu and paging through it.
    The waiter looked at him as if he were from Mars. “Mo-what?”
    “Guess not, huh?” Jamie said. “How about a Seven and soda? And get the lady another one of those pink drinks.”
    “Thanks.” I smiled as the waiter left, sucking down my beverage so I’d be ready for round two. “What’s a Mojito?”
    “It’s this Cuban drink. Rum and mint. I got addicted to them when I spent three months working on a documentary in Miami last
     year. Most bars in So-Cal have yet to catch on.” He grinned. “But hey, here we can choose from twenty varieties of Margaritas
     so I guess we should count our blessings.”
    I laughed. The tequila snobbery in San Diego had always amused me. Napa had wine tasting; we had tequila. Some bottles cost
     over a hundred dollars. There was this one bar down the street that boasted a tequila club. If you could drink shots of their
     fifty different brands, (not all in the same sitting, mind you!) they’d buy you a plane ticket to Cabo San Lucas.
    “I’d like to try a Mojito, ” I said. “So if you find a San Diego bar that serves them, let me know.”
    “You know, they were one of Hemingway’s drinks of choice, ” Jamie informed me.
    I was impressed. “Really? Now I definitely want to try them. Hemingway was kick-ass. I loved his books.”
    “Me, too. Especially the Sun Also Rises