The Bar
1131 Words
Ethan? Lily whispered, her voice cracked.Ethan jumped on his feet, his eyes wide.
“Lily… I… I can explain…it's really not what it looks like.”
“Not what it looks like?” she echoed, tears stinging her eyes, “Ethan…. You are cheating on me, curled up with this red-haired woman while my daughter is fighting for her life.”
The Latina woman on the bed scoffed.
“You don't understand.” Ethan sighed, running his hands through his hair.
“You…and Ivy…the hospital bills, the stress…” I just can’t anymore,” he said almost in a whisper.
“What?”
“Look at you, Lilly… Take a look at yourself; you are a mess. You hardly have time for me.”
“Ethan?”
He looked away.
“Yeah… I know, Ivy is in the hospital… But I have needs too,” he sighed.“I just can't anymore.”
That was all the answer she needed. Ethan had given up on her. She walked out of his apartment, half hoping he would run after her, but he didn't. Her legs wobbled as she walked down the stairs, entering into the streets, the cold breeze hitting her. She was hopeless; her only hope was gone. With the back of her hands, she wiped away her tears; she was done crying.The lights from the signpost of a nearby bar shone through the darkness of the streets—THE GOOD BAR. She couldn't help but wonder who would give a bar such a name; she stumbled across the tiny potholes as she walked towards the bar. The intertwining lights from the bar cast shadows on her face; she was too lost to care about her appearance. She slid onto a barstool. The bartender reached out from across the counter.
“Get me something strong.”
“Alright, ma’am.”
She emptied the glass in a gulp; the liquid seared down her throat. It wasn't enough; she requested the second and then the third. She didn't stop; she was at the fifth, too drunk to care, but she did notice that the air around the bar shifted as two sharply dressed men walked into the bar.One of them reached out for the barstool just beside her while the other stood behind him, clutching onto a briefcase.
“Mr. Blackwood,” the bartender hurried to the one seated.
“Good evening, sir…. The usual?”
He gave a curt nod, too busy to answer. Lily scoffed, taking a look at him; the well-tailored suit he wore fit him properly, and his eyes were cold and calculating. Somehow, his cold authority bruised Lily’s nerves.Who does he think he is? People like him never raise a finger; they just watch others do it.
She gulped down her fifth glass, placing the glass on the counter with a loud thud.
“It must feel good,” she muttered, her gaze on the "proud, arrogant man" beside her.Damian's eyes flicked towards her, his eyes sharp and assessing. “Excuse me?” His deep baritone voice almost made her have a rethink, but she shrugged it off, giving off a halfhearted laugh instead.“You rich folks sit around doing nothing, it must be nice being handed everything you need on a platter, everyone at your beck and call.”
“Ma’am… you should…” His assistant, Peter, reached out, but Damian waved his hands in a firm motion, signalling for him to stop.
“You should watch your words,” Damian muttered, taking a sip from his glass.
“Why?” Lily shot back, “You would buy the bar and throw me out? She asked, her lips curling up to a wide smile.A calm, dangerous smirk curved around Damian's lips.
“I could.”
“Typical,” Lily whispered. “You bask in your affluence with no care for the world. Do you know what it feels like to work until your hands bleed, to be humiliated, to be hopeless, to watch your child die because you can't afford the hospital bills?” Lily asked, almost on the verge of tears.Damian’s eyes looked on, his face emotionless.
“You are all the same.” Lily mumbled, standing on her feet, “Heartless bastards!!” She cursed, grabbing her bag and staggering out of the bar. In her drunken state, she didn't notice when her work ID fell from her bag to the feet of Damian's assistant.
“Lily Hart,” he read out from the ID.
“Find out who she is.” Damian mumbled under his breath; he watched the liquid in his glass swirl before taking a sip.
“Yes, sir,” Peter replied.
Damian Blackwood The name wielded power; he had never been insulted in such a way. Even the mentally retarded comported themselves around him. He was amazed and astonished as he watched Lily staggered out of the bar. She must pay; there was a price for every deed, good or bad.
“I want every details of that woman on my desk before morning,” he ordered.
Peter winced.“Before morning??? ... It's 8pm.”
“Did I stutter?” Damian asked, and a cold, commanding air swept through Peter; he knew better than to question his boss.
“No sir… but you should probably head home now; your grandma has been calling nonstop.”
“We will head back to the office,” Damian commanded, standing on his feet and storming out of the bar.
“To…Tonight??” Peter stammered, quickening his pace to catch up with Damian.
The office elevator opened with a ding, and Damian Blackwood strode out onto the first floor, his cold blue eyes emotionless. Peter rushed behind him, struggling to catch his breath.At the front desk, Sophie, his secretary, stood abruptly, straightening out her skimpy skirt and tucking in her blouse.
“Sir…I wasn't expecting you to be back tonight ...forgot something?” She asked, fidgeting.
“My Office… Now!!” Damian roared. She picked up her notepad and hurriedly walked behind them into his office, closing the glass door behind her.Damian did not sit; he went straight to his desk, tapping his fingers once on the desk.
“That woman from the bar…” he said,
“I want information on her, where she works, who she works for, her family…everything.”
Sophie blinked. “Woman from the bar? Who are we talking about?” she asked, looking lost.
“One lily… Lily Hart,” Peter muttered, reaching his pockets for the ID.“Yeah… Lily Hart,” he added, handing the ID over to Sophie.
She rummaged her eyes through the ID; her brows suddenly quizzed.
“Sir…she…she works for us.” she spilled, her eyes still fixed on the ID.
- Writer
