Read For You for Free Online

here, expecting something.”
    “This is the focal point, though.” He tapped and zoomed in on the upper left. “See, this blossom is the focus. The dominant motif.”
    “No. You start there, but your start isn't where you end up.”
    He chuckled. “ Your start isn't where you end up. See, you're helping me already, and all I had to do was hit on you repeatedly.”
    “Hit on me? I thought you were just being friendly to the married girl.”
    “What's it like? Being married?”
    I winced. “Stable.”
    “Is he good to you? He doesn't pick you up from work. If you were my girl I'd be down here all the time, beating guys like me away with a stick.”
    “He's not the violent type.”
    “Oh, and I am? Just because I can move and stop some dirtbag from hurting a girl, that doesn't mean I'm violent. It means I know right from wrong and I'm not afraid to act on my instincts.”
    “But you didn't have to punch him in the face.”
    Sawyer raised his eyebrows, his sparkling green eyes showing amusement. “You're the one who had murder on your face. You would have buried the eight-ball in that guy's eye socket.”
    I shuddered at the memory and rubbed my arms. Bruce had installed the mirror in the corner, and we were all on alert to be more careful, but I didn't like to think about what happened.
    My voice soft as a whisper, I said, “Defending yourself is okay.”
    “It certainly is. You have to fight, or you won't believe you're worth fighting for. Now tell me more about this husband of yours.”
    I looked around the bar for some reprieve, but there was nothing to save me on the giant TV screens or in the neon beer brand advertisements.
    “He hasn't been around much lately,” I said.
    A thunderous crack startled me, and I whipped my head to see some of the old-timer regulars starting a game of pool. Looking at the green felt lit up under the low-hanging lamp made my blood feel chilled, like ice water.
    “Let me help you,” he said. “We can be friends. You help me with this giant albatross of an art project, and we can play a few games of pool. Low pressure.” He took a sip of beer, never moving his eyes off me. “Let's be friends.”
    “I don't know.”
    “Is it because I talk too much? I could try to talk less, but it helps me let off steam. It's good to use your words instead of your fists to communicate. I think real men talk.”
    Some new patrons took a seat nearby, so I began to back away.
    “You do have a nice voice,” I said, then I turned and quickly walked away.
    For the rest of the afternoon, we talked a little more each time I came by to check on Sawyer Jones. He kept working on ideas for the mural, doing quick sketches in his book. As he'd done the previous visits, he drank only two pints of beer, sipped very slowly as he worked. After the second one, he requested a water. As I set the water glass down, he said, “I'm just off to the boy's room. Would you keep an eye on my laptop?”
    I was confused for a moment, then realized he'd sketched the image of an open laptop inside two pages of the book. Both the drawing and his joke were cute.
    He clapped his hands together and hooted. “Did it! Made you smile.”
    I covered my mouth with my hand, embarrassed. Everyone in the area had turned to stare.
    He was still chuckling as he disappeared around the corner to the washrooms.
    I stood there for a moment, “guarding” the drawing of the laptop until I realized what I was doing. Shaking my head, still smiling, I walked away from the sketched laptop.
    Lana had just shown up to start her shift, and I went to greet her over by the cupboard where we stowed away our purses.
    “You look great today,” she said.
    “You too.”
    She smoothed down her brightly-dyed purple hair. “No I don't. I look like shit. I barely put on half my face, because Curtis wanted to make love.” She rolled her eyes.
    “Oh.”
    She poured two shots of something—vodka—and nodded down at the second one as she picked up