chapter 13

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Maia

"He visited me last night," Joe mumbled as he drank his beer. Seeing Joe again made my heart warm. It never made my day so dull.

"That's great, Joe!" I gushed as I wiped down the bar. "So, how did it go?"

"He came by to get some of his stuff from the house apparently; the kid needed his guitar." He muttered. "He didn't stay, though." He shook his head in disappointment.

"Well, he's in a band now, hon, so there's that." He chuckled. My heart swelled from his endearment, but my annoyance from his son raged inside me more.

"I can't believe he didn't stay." I spat as my hands were on my hips.

"It's okay, hon; I think he wasn't planning on staying anytime soon. He mentioned he was going on tour with his band." He sighed, nodding his head in acceptance.

A sudden wave of sadness came and offered him a sad smile. I was debating whether to hug him, but I think that would've made shit worse.

"Cheers." He chuckled as he raised his glass to me and drank as I sigh from sadness.

I know it's none of my business but hearing him talk about his son makes me so sad. His wife just died, and all he's got is his son, who's always absent in his life. Jeez, old people don't deserve this. I hope his son realizes that before things become too late.

"Hey, are you Maia?" Someone called out. I whipped my head in their direction and saw a man in front of my bar all dressed up, wearing a suit and tie. He had green eyes and long brown messy curls that sit on top of his head, and a freshly trimmed beard.

Um? Who the hell is this man?

"Yeah... that's me, and who are you exactly?" I asked as I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Right! I'm Mason." He grinned as he held out his hand for me to shake but didn't accept his hand.

"Okay, Mason, what do you want? Beer? Margaritas? Shots–" I said, listing every drink in the bar but was cut off.

"No, no, I came here to see you." He chuckled.

"I'm sorry but do I know you?" I asked with my arms crossed in front of me, looking at him dumbfounded by this encounter.

Was I so drunk one time that I met him from somewhere?

"Your mom sent me." He smiled as he sat down on the barstool with his hands on the counter.

"My mom? Why would she— Oh fuck no!" I gasped, realizing, did she sent this poor man for me to go on another blind date?

"Yeah, your mom and my mom were childhood friends and kinda set me up for a blind date; I wasn't sure back then, but why not, you know?" He explained.

"I happen to be nearby. I'm on my break right now and thought I'd introduce myself." He added, smiling at me.

My mom has got to stop, this whole situation is nuts, and it's even more annoying that I find this man attractive and polite.

"No, no, no, you got this all wrong– you see? My mom? Is a psychopath. You should never do or accept anything she says!" I scoffed, rolling my eyes, hands still on hips.

tinder // drew starkeyWhere stories live. Discover now