Chapter 2

Richard walked happily down the street, probably happier than he had been in weeks. He passed up his neighbors, a few waving, a few sneering. He didn't care. All he cared about was Veronica. God, he loved that name. It suit her much better than Ron. Ron was naive and mischievous. Veronica was sexy and alluring with an authority no man could ever know.
He finally made it back to his home and looked around the hall. His walls were clean and evenly painted, matching well with the expensive and custom made furniture. Before this morning, he would have been proud to call this his home. Now, it was meaningless. He walked upstairs to his bathroom and took a real shower along with a quick shave. He ran across the hall and into his bedroom, where he changed into a nice shirt and tie. He hated wearing ties.
After locking up, Richard opened up his garage, prepared to get in his silver sports car and drive to work just like any other day. However, he was astonished to see what was really in his garage. Nothing. Richard rubbed his head for a minute. His car couldn't have been stolen. The garage was locked and there were no signs of a break-in. Then, he remembered for the second time that day. The night before, he had spent the night at Ron's instead of going home. Normally, he would have driven home but the bartender took his keys and called him a cab because he was so smashed. He had been angry about it last night but now he was thankful. Not just because the bartender had saved him from a horrible car accident, but because the bartender had also allowed him to meet Ron. Dammit, he scolded himself. He needed to get her out of his mind. She obviously didn't want to be there.
Richard sighed as he began the long walk down the street to the bar he had been the night before. He didn't even remember the name of it. In fact, it had been his first time there. Richard wasn't the type of man who got drunk in bars. Although, he was sure Ron didn't see it that way. The night they met just happened to be the one night he was stone cold drunk. Irony was a bitch. Richard sighed as he walked. He didn't think to bring any cash with him, so he couldn't call a cab. Besides, there didn't seem to be many cabs near the bar anyway. Possibly to avoid men like him. Men like me, he thought sadly. That's what women did to him. Turned him into one of those men.
He just hoped that Ron wasn't like that. Who was he kidding? Of course, she was! All women were. They'd take everything they needed from you and then leave you empty and alone, feeling like it was your fault. That you could have done something. Making you feel guilty. On the other hand, what did it matter? He wasn't ever going to see Ron again, contraire to what he may have led her to believe. She was trouble. Just as all women were. With that name and that voice. Her skin and lips...oh god, those lips.
Richard stopped. He was getting a headache from his conflicting thoughts. He wouldn't see her ever again. That was his plan and he was sticking to it. Without realizing it, Richard had walked several miles and reached the bar without breaking a sweat. He guessed it was because his thoughts on women (or one in particular) kept him occupied.
He walked into the bar and most of his memory came back. The smell of other men's beer, the taste of his whiskey. Just thinking about it made him a little less sober. Richard shook his head and came back to his senses just as the bartender looked up and saw him also. He gave him an unpleasant look similar to the one Ron's baby-sitter had given them both earlier that day. Richard almost shivered from the memory. The bartender reached into the cash register and pulled out a collection of shiny key rings, separating Richard's from the rest. He waved it around, signaling Richard. He sighed and walked over to the bar, making a grab for his keys but failing as the bartender pulled them back. He wasn't smiling so Richard guessed he wasn't joking.
He was getting frustrated. Finally, he leaned his stomach across the bar to get to his keys and, failing again, he grimaced. "Is there a problem, sir? If not, I'd really like to get my keys back," he shouted, not really caring if he offended anyone or raised a few eyebrows. The bartender looked him up and down for a second, and then regrettably tossed him the keys. Richard fumbled for a second before catching them, but then slipped them in his pocket. "You sure you can drive? Maybe I could call that girlfriend of yours to pick you up," he slurred, obviously drinking on the job. The men around him laughed under their breath and the smell of beer filled the air again. It hadn't occurred to him that the men from last night (the men that watched them last night) might still be in the bar. Richard gave him a vile look and walked back to the door, not realizing just how long of a walk it really was.