Enjoy the first two chapters of How to Date Your Ex: a steamy, snarky contemporary second chance love story. Book 2 in the How to Date series.
Six Miller, Nora's best friend from How to Date Your Boss almost took over the story. She was the obvious choice for Book 2.
I also loved Brendan the Bartender's willingness to help a friend in need. Nora didn't know Six and Brendan had a shared but not so happy past when she insists on going to the bar.
Read the first two chapters of their story below. If you do check it out, I'd love to hear what you thought! Enjoy!
Essix Miller, known to everyone but her grandmother as Six, tapped the steering wheel with her neon colored nails as she cowardly hid in her car. The front door of McConnell’s Bar and Grill loomed large and forbidding in the distance. The clouds rolling in threatened rain. Four crows perched on the telephone wire above the building. All ominous signs. All signs that pointed to her turning this car around and heading for home.
Of course, she couldn’t do that, though. Her best friend Nora’s engagement party after-party raged on inside. Without her. Eight years of friendship with a healthy dash of guilt, definitely outweighed crows and clouds. Time to put on her big girl panties and head in. She checked her make-up in the rear-view mirror one more time—could she look any more pale?—and, before she chickened out again, opened the door of the car and forced her feet to move.
Of all the millions of places in Washington D.C. and its surrounding suburbs where they lived, why did Nora and Andrew have to choose this bar? Not that Six hadn’t tried to suggest all the other places. Her friends were just stubbornly set on McConnell’s. It wasn’t the bar she was against, just a certain bartender. A bartender she used to date before he disappeared on her.
What were the chances he wasn’t working tonight? The wind picked up just then tangling Six’s long, dark hair. She frowned as she felt the first raindrop. The universe confirmed he was definitely working.
Six took two deep, cleansing breaths—one for nerves; one to center her Solar Plexus Chakra—and opened the entrance door. She forced herself not to look at the bar while she scanned the crowd for her group of friends and coworkers.
“Six!” Nora’s bright voice called from somewhere near the back.
“Excuse me. Pardon me,” Six said as she tunneled through the throng of people towards Nora’s waving arm. She didn’t remember McConnell’s ever being this crowded. Of course, she hadn’t been inside for almost a year.
One whole year. Had it really been that long? She paused in her quest to think about it. And felt a cold liquid sliding down her leg.
“Oh shit! I’m so sorry,” a voice beside her said. She looked down at the beer on her skirt and skin, then up into the face of a rather drunk Redskins fan. “Let me get you some napkins or something.” When he was finally able to focus on her, he added, “Actually, let me buy you a drink, beautiful.” He slurred his words spilling more beer on her.
“No. Thanks anyway. I’ll take care of it.” She frowned just noticing the sea of red and yellow around her. Football game. That explained the crowd as well as the synchronized yelling.
Six managed to make it, without further incident, to the table where Nora and her fiancé Andrew were waiting with several other friends and coworkers. “Tell me there are napkins here?” Six asked after exchanging hugs. “I got caught up in the last play.” She gestured to her wet skirt.
Nora winced. “Sorry. I forgot how crowded this place gets on game days when I suggested it. I think the game is almost over though.”
“No worries,” Six said forcing a smile. She added “beer shower” to her list of signs indicating she should be anywhere but here.
“I’ll get you some napkins. And a drink,” Andrew offered. Nora beamed up at him like she was bathing in the sunshine bursting from his pores. Six’s smile turned genuine. She loved seeing her friend so happy.
“What are you drinking?” Andrew asked her.
“I’ll have a G&T with a lime, please,” Six said.
“Be right back,” Andrew said as he pushed his way towards the bar.
“G&T, huh?” Nora asked. “Since when?”
“It’s just easier to say ‘two’ when I order them for Mindy,” Six shrugged mentioning her boss at Green Light Publishing where she and Andrew both worked. “I’ve actually grown to really like them.”
“I’ll have a sip when Andrew gets back. Maybe I should branch out a little. Although Brendan does make a mean martini,” Nora said taking a sip of hers.
“Is Brendan here tonight?” Six asked, trying to sound nonchalant and again forcing herself not to look for him at the bar.
“He’s always here. I don’t think that man ever takes a break.” Nora narrowed her eyes at Six.
“Wait a minute. Is Brendan your ex-bartender boyfriend you sometimes allude to?”
“We only went on a few dates. I’d hardly classify that as a ‘boyfriend’,” Six lied.
“I knew it!” Nora slammed the table with her palm. Six jumped. “You have to tell me all the
details now that I know both of you.”
“There’s nothing to tell,” Six insisted.
“The fact that you refuse to tell me anything about him and have been avoiding this place like the devil lives here implies otherwise.”
Six shifted in her chair. “We went on a couple dates. I thought things were going okay. So did my tarot cards. Then he just vanished. A short ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text, but then poof, gone. No more emails, texts, or phone calls. No explanation beyond ‘I can’t do this right now’,” she lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. “I tried coming in here a couple times, but he was never around. Or he was hiding in the back to avoid seeing me. I didn’t really see the point in coming back after that. Message received.”
“Oh, Six. That sucks. He’s a triple bastard in disguise. Want me to ask him about it?” Nora offered putting her hand over Six’s.
“Hell no! My contact information hasn’t changed. If he wanted to get in touch with me to explain, he easily could have. He probably doesn’t even remember me.”
“That’s impossible. You’re unforgettable, Six,” Nora said.
“Yeah, well…” she started, but Andrew came back with their drinks.
“I’m paying you back for this round,” Six said taking her gin and tonic. “This is your celebration so you shouldn’t have to pay for drinks.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Andrew said. “I know the bartender.” He gave Six a pointed look.
“Seems like I’m not the only one.”
“Wait. How did you hear our conversation?” Nora asked.
“What? I didn’t.” The couple exchanged a look that clearly communicated something only they understood. “Brendan sent Six’s drink over compliments of the house. He said it was ‘for an old friend’,” Andrew explained air quoting “for an old friend”.
“Guess he does remember you,” Nora mumbled, but Six didn’t hear.
Despite her very best efforts, despite knowing what would happen, despite all her pep talks in the car, Six’s traitorous eyes flicked towards the bar. Her dark brown eyes locked onto Brendan’s hazel ones immediately. He lifted his mouth in an embarrassed, pained half-smile and nodded slightly in greeting.
In that instant, the last year evaporated. She was back in his arms lazily waking up late on a Saturday to that same lopsided grin. Her Heart Chakra threatened to open back up to him, but luckily she clamped that shit down quickly. Oh no. Not even his panty-melting grin could erase the humility of obsessively checking her phone for returned texts after he disappeared.
She scowled back at him and turned forcefully around. Andrew looked at her with raised eyebrows.
“Nope. Not talking about it. Not here. I’m changing the subject,” Six said. “Nora, how has your mom been with wedding planning?”
“Overly opinionated as usual. I just say ‘thank you for the feedback’ and then immediately delete it from my memory,” Nora said.
“Good plan.”
Six smelled him—a mix of smoky bar with underlying musk—before she saw him. She heard him—a low, velvety tenor with a hint of an accent—before she dared turned around.
“How’s everything over here?” Brendan said from right behind Six’s chair. She deliberately ignored him.
“Great!” Nora said enthusiastically. “Crowded tonight.”
“Redskins game,” Brendan said in explanation. “The game just ended, though, so it should be easing up soon.”
“No problem, man,” Andrew said.
Nora smiled mischievously and said, “Brendan, do you know my friend, Six?”
Six shot her a murderous glare. “We’ve met,” she said stiffly.
“It’s really great to see you again,” Brendan said, moving into her eye line.
She snorted. “Yup.” She could just distinguish his masculine shape from under her eyelashes. The curve of his biceps. The slight narrowing of his waist. The strong, solid line of his legs.
“How have you been?” he asked.
“Fine.” She looked anywhere but at his face. She didn’t really want to see his expression. Or his hazel eyes. She’d rather imagine him with a big, protruding, hairy wart on his nose.
“You look amazing.”
“I know,” Six said shortly. “My boyfriend tells me all the time.” Nora kicked her under the table, prompting Six to scowl at her again. So what if she was being rude? She didn’t want to talk to him.
“Boyfriend,” she heard him whisper under his breath before he said to the table, “Okay, well, if you need another round, just signal. Lizzie or I will bring it over,” Brendan offered. “That way you don’t have to try to traverse back and forth to the bar.”
“Thanks, Brendan.” Nora looked at Six’s nearly empty glass and added, “We’ll probably need another round by the time you get back there.”
“I’ll send one right out. Same order? Martini, Stella, G&T with lime?” Brendan pointed to each of them in turn.
“You got it,” Andrew said. “Just put it on my tab.”
Brendan nodded, gave one last look at Six, and made his way back to the bar, slapping a few backs and high fiving a few patrons on the way. She wouldn’t allow herself to misjudge him again. He may appear all jovial and friendly and cute, but underneath he was a lying snake. Unfortunately, her thoughts were distracted by how well his jeans hugged his ass.
Well, maybe not unfortunately.
When she finally lost sight of him in the crowd and turned back toward the table, Nora was smirking at her. “What?” Six asked.
“Are you sure you don’t want to know why he disappeared?” she asked. “Truly?”
“I’m sure. Knowing why won’t make it less true. Stop meddling,” Six said.
“It’s just that Brendan is such a nice guy normally,” Nora persisted.
“Great bartender; lousy boyfriend,” Six said.
“Speaking of lousy boyfriends, where is Timber?” Nora asked. Six shook her head. Nora didn’t keep her disdain for Six’s current beau a secret.
“He has a busy day tomorrow at the gym, so wanted to turn in early. He’s training for a big competition this weekend,” Six explained.
“Wait. I thought CrossFit was just a training technique. Like yoga or HIIT or cycling. They actually have competitions?” Nora said in disbelief.
Andrew chimed in. “Yeah, I’ve heard of them. They’re actually pretty hard core.”
“To each their own, I suppose,” Nora quipped. “Do you go watch him? You haven’t mentioned it before.”
“I have mentioned it,” Six said. Nora pretty much ignored everything to do with Timber. “But, no, I haven’t been to one yet. He hasn’t exactly asked me to go, either.”
“Well, tell him good luck from us,” Andrew said.
Before their next round of drinks arrived, Nora and Andrew were suddenly swept up in the melee of the party. A few coworkers from Green Light joined the table to talk with them. Six turned her back on the table to view the room, careful to keep the bar counter out of her sight line.
The establishment itself was really nice as far as small privately-owned bars went: typical dark wood on practically every surface; a smattering of tables, high tops, and counters; stained glass light fixtures hanging from the exposed beams in the ceiling; sports, Ireland, and celebrity memorabilia hanging from the walls; everything clean and neat. Six especially loved the full wall of windows that opened onto a tree-lined courtyard and deck in the back of the building. One night a weekend in the summer, McConnell’s would have local bands play as well. She loved sipping on a cocktail, chatting with Brendan as he manned the outside bar
in the warmer weather. She could almost forget she was in the city back there. Six’s mouth dropped into a half-frown at the memory. She’d lost those experiences along with Brendan when he ditched her.
Six’s attention fumbled out of the past and back into the present after one of the Redskins fans overheard they were celebrating an engagement and insisted on buying a round of shots. He tried to hoist Nora onto his brawny shoulders for the celebratory drink, but Andrew, with an assist from Brendan, successfully removed the guy’s hands from his fiancé.
Admittedly, seeing Brendan handle the drunk with grace and finesse was pretty impressive. Nora was saved, no one got in a fight, and not a single drop of alcohol spilled.
When Mr. Hands, still jovially toasting the couple, left with his friends, Six herded Nora to the bathroom to freshen up.
“You won’t think I’m shirking my Maid of Honor duties if I head out, will you?” Six said to Nora when they were inside.
“Of course not! Especially now that I know Brendan’s your ex. I’m surprised you stayed this long,” Nora said fixing her lipstick.
“Speaking of Brendan, you better not say anything to him when I leave.” Six pointed a finger at her in the mirror. Nora raised her eyebrows in a “who me?” gesture. Six laughed, “Yes, you. I promise to tell you all about our short yet sordid affair later. Just don’t mention it to him.”
Nora crossed a finger over her heart and said, “Promise. Although it’s going to kill me.” She
turned to give her friend a hug. “Thanks so much for everything you’ve done so far.
Especially for being here tonight.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Six pulled back and added, “Now, go enjoy your fiancé. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Six stopped briefly at their table to say good-bye to Andrew and their coworkers. She was almost to the door when a hand on her arm stopped her. She turned around with an “I’m not interested” on her lips but stopped short when her gaze followed the freckled, muscular arm up to its owner.
Not some random drunk looking to score. Brendan. The zip of electricity between them proved her body didn’t get the “not interested” message. Neither did her naughty bits. They clearly remembered Brendan’s touch since they were spreading a sizzling heat through her entire body. She tried to look bored and uninterested.
“Six,” he said. “Can we talk?”
As soon as Brendan touched her arm, the instant attraction they’d once shared reignited. He couldn’t deny the way their bodies reacted to one another. By her sharp intake of breath, Brendan knew Six felt it, too. Her eyes locked on his, but he didn’t like what he saw there. Fire, yes, but behind a wall that he’d helped build. He should just leave this poor girl alone.
Instead he repeated, “Can we talk? Please. I want to apologize. Come to my office so we can have some privacy.” He started to pull her in that direction, but she wrenched her arm free.
“No, thanks,” she said, the molten fire in her eyes hardening to stone. “No need. It’s fine. It happened a long time ago. I’m totally over it. Things happen. No biggie. Good seeing you again. I’ve got to go.”
“Six, I owe you an explanation for what happened,” he insisted.
“Look, Brendan. Any explanation should have come a year ago. Or any time during the intervening months. I don’t want or need to hear it now. Especially if it’s just to ease your conscious.” She turned to go.
“Six,” he called, but she didn’t turn around. Just kept walking out the door into the night.
“Damn it.”
Brendan put his hand on the door to push it open and follow her, but someone called his name from behind him. Sighing, he turned around.
“Brendan!” he heard again. His assistant manager, Lizzie Vandevere, waved to him from behind the bar. One last look at the door that stood between him and Six, then back to the bar.
“What’s up?” he asked stepping behind the counter.
“I could use some help closing out these tabs,” Lizzie said, “but only if you have time between mooning over exotic brunettes.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Brendan said, heading to the register with a customer’s credit card.
“Yes, you do. You haven’t been able to take your eyes off of Nora’s friend all night. Tell me you at least got her number.”
“It’s complicated,” he paused. Lizzie raised her eyebrows in anticipation. Okay, short version. “We dated before. A long time ago,” Brendan explained hoping she wouldn’t ask for too many more details.
Luckily the back and forth of closing out tabs and filling drinks for those who were staying kept them too busy for a real conversation for a while. As he popped tops off four more bottles for the mourning fans of the losing team, he took a moment to savor that thought—McConnell’s was busy. Finally, after over a year of blood, sweat, tears, and more sweat, he could comfortably say he was on the upward side of turning this place around. Again. Two consecutive months in the black. Of course, football season helped. Hopefully those patrons would stay for basketball and then baseball in the spring and summer as well. He was cautiously optimistic, but still needed some additional revenue to really feel like McConnell’s could make it long term. He had plenty of ideas swirling around in his head, but neither the time nor the capital to really make them a reality at the moment. What a fucked-up cycle—he needed more money to expand the business so he could make more money. American Dream at its finest.
Unluckily, Lizzie picked the conversation back up when they slowed down a little right before last call.
“Did she dump you?” Lizzie asked.
“Who?” Brendan said playing dumb.
“Who, my ass. Come on, spill.” When Brendan just lifted his eyebrows in a question, Lizzie put her hands on her hips and added, “Exotic brunette spit-fire in the killer skirt? The one that clearly pushed your lust button?” When he still didn’t answer, she sighed in frustration,
“Nora’s friend. I know you know who I mean.”
“Fine,” he capitulated. “Like I said, it’s complicated. She and I dated right before I hired you.
Around the time I left to take care of that family stuff. Not great timing. Then we sort of lost touch.” He shrugged like losing Six wasn’t one of his greatest regrets. The small, constant iron fist of “what if” in his stomach just grew exponentially after seeing her again.
“So now that family stuff has calmed down, are you going to ask her out again?”
“Not likely. I just asked her to talk to me, and she stormed out like the place was on fire. Plus, she apparently has a boyfriend,” he frowned.
“All I can say is that I haven’t seen you look at anyone that way since I’ve been working here. I wouldn’t give up so easily if I were you,” Lizzie said.
“I just told you she has a boyfriend,” he repeated.
“Well, I didn’t see him here tonight. And boyfriend doesn’t mean husband,” Lizzie countered.
He shrugged again and avoided her gaze. Nora and Andrew were making their way to the bar. Yes, distraction! Brendan was happy for his friends. His drunk friends if Nora’s wobbly cadence offered any indication. The only other time he’d seen her really drunk was shortly after she and Andrew moved in together. That was also the night when Andrew stopped worrying that Brendan wanted to steal Nora away from him. They’d settled into a jovial friendship ever since.
“Hey guys. Can I get you another round?” he said when they were in hearing range.
Andrew said, “No, man. I think we’re going to call it a night. I’m still going to attempt to get to work in the morning.”
“I’ve already taken a sick day. In fact, my boss, who just left herself, insisted on it. How did it get so late?” Nora asked. Her face sported a healthy blush, and her eyes were a bit glassy. Yup, definitely buzzed. Andrew seemed sober enough, though. Brendan felt comfortable letting them leave without calling a ride share.
“How many shots did you have?” Brendan asked her.
“I lost count,” Nora said, but Andrew held up four fingers behind her and widened his eyes. She continued, “Apparently being a soon-to-be bride also means getting shit-faced for free.”
“We’ve come to settle the tab,” Andrew said. “I think it’s past time for someone to get to bed.”
“Don’t worry about the tab. It’s on the house. In honor of getting shit-faced for free… I mean getting married,” Brendan laughed.
“No way,” Andrew said and motioned for Lizzie. “Lizzie, we’d like to pay our tab, please.” She took his credit card.
“I’m never going to get a raise if you keep giving stuff away,” Lizzie scolded playfully.
Andrew turned back to Brendan. “I appreciate the offer, truly. But you’re running a business.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Brendan teased.
Nora laughed out loud, “Oh my goodness, I say that to him all the time!”
Brendan said, “I do owe you an engagement gift, though.” Andrew started to wave away the suggestion, but Brendan continued, “I think I have a proposal that could benefit us both. And it involves food.”
“I’m listening,” Nora said leaning her elbows on the bar. “Tell me more about food.”
“I’ve been thinking of expanding into catering. The bar is really only open in the evenings, so we have time. I need some taste testers. You guys get a free meal, and I get your honest feedback on new recipes,” Brendan offered. There, he had said it out loud—the idea that clawed for attention in his mind night after night for months. Now the idea floated out in the world, and he was forced to follow through.
God, that sounded a lot like something Six would say. She still resided in his bones.
Lizzie looked at him with her mouth open. Probably he should have at least mentioned the catering idea to her before now. But he didn’t even know he was going to suggest it until he heard the words coming out of his own mouth. He gave her an apologetic look.
“Brendan! That sounds amazing. What a great idea,” Nora squealed and clasped her hands.
“We need a caterer for our wedding still. We could be your first clients.”
Uh-oh, shit just got real really quickly. “Let’s see how you like the food first, okay? How’s later this week look for you guys?” Brendan said. As they settled on a date and time, Brendan’s heart rate kicked up. Getting into the wedding catering business could be monumental. He hadn’t even thought about that when he made his offer to his friends. Now he could think of nothing else.
Nora said, “Come on, Andrew. Take me home before I lose my buzz so we can have wild, drunk sex all over the apartment.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Andrew laughed, kissing his fiancé on her head. “We’ll see you on Wednesday with appetites ready.”
Brendan waved them out as Lizzie rang the bell for last call. As the bar crowded with patrons wanting to get their last drink, Lizzie said, “You have some explaining to do, Mister. We can talk while we clean up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Brendan said shaking up a mixed drink.
An hour later, they helped the last customer—still singing “Hail to the Redskins” at the top of his voice—stumble into a ride share. Lizzie wiped down the bar while Brendan started to put the chairs up on the tables.
“Catering, huh?” Lizzie asked. “Funny how you’ve never mentioned that before. Even to your assistant manager.”
“Sorry,” he winced. “I should have told you before now. I kept going back and forth about it.”
Her mouth turned up on one side, “Translation—you kept it inside instead of talking to anyone about it. Just like you never want to talk about your family issues or the hot brunette. Or why you lock yourself in the office for hours at a time. At some point your inner bottle is going to spill over or explode.”
“You sound like my mother. I’m fine,” he said. He patted down his chest and torso. “Nope. No explosions on the horizon. Besides now I am talking about the catering. I just think we could provide that service since this place isn’t open until happy hour anyway. Little known fact, I actually went to culinary school for a bit before taking over here.”
“Really? Well shit, Bren, I think it’s a great idea! I know my way around a kitchen good enough to follow a recipe. Plus, I freakin’ love weddings. Sign me up for all the weddings,” Lizzie said wistfully.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I want to see what Andrew and Nora think about the food first,” he said. “Although, it would be fun to cater their wedding. Sort of a test run to see how it works. We could provide the alcohol, too.”
“And you’d get to see a lot more of Little Miss Can’t-Take-My-Eyes-Off-Of-You.”
“I didn’t even think of that,” Brendan lied. Spending time with Six came to mind first when Nora put the idea in his head. He’d be forced to see Six. Or really, she’d be forced to see him. She could only avoid talking to him for so long.
He recognized her the moment she opened the door tonight. Her bright, multi-colored skirt was a dead giveaway, but her mass of long, dark hair swirling around her face as the wind blew in with her sparked memories of when his hands were embedded there messing up those silky strands himself. But his body felt her. Remembered her. He tried to stay away from their table as long as he could. Fifteen minutes seemed like a heroic attempt. Wasn’t it his duty to check on all his patrons? That was just good business practice.
Turned out to be a bad idea. Once he inhaled Six’s familiar scent, she invaded his every thought. He could concentrate on nothing other than the way her mouth moved as she talked or sipped her drink. When she tucked her silky hair behind her ear, his fingers tingled from the memory of its texture. He was so transfixed by memories of her, he almost missed the guy trying to manhandle Nora. Luckily, he’d caught it soon enough to avoid Andrew bashing the guy’s face in. Not that Andrew struck him as a brawler, but Brendan understood the murderous look in Andrew’s eye as another man put hands on his girl. A touch that was clearly unwanted.
After that incident, Six had left, taking her bright energy with her. Don’t forget that she rejected you first, his conscious reminded him. Of course she did; his apology came a year too late.
“You’re thinking of her again, aren’t you?” Lizzie asked breaking into his thoughts. “The far-away look on your face says it all.”
“Was not. I just took too many shots tonight, too.” Brendan busied himself with the broom.
“Bullshit. But I’ll let it go. Tell me more about your food ideas. I’m excited to try them, too,” Lizzie said. “Mainly so my waistline doesn’t keep suffering from eating greasy, fried bar food night after night.”
“I’m thinking Irish with a Twist,” Brendan said. He filled her in with some of his ideas as they finished closing.
Once alone in his apartment—with nothing but his thoughts and the whirring refrigerator to keep him company—Brendan fought for control of his senses which were, at the moment, still full of Six. The feel of her hair between his fingers, the scent of her perfume invading his memories, the sound of her laughter bouncing around the bar. He remembered vividly the first time he heard that laughter cut through the bar room.
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