The next morning, Lauren found herself in the same spot at the same time. Her hangover had worn off and her desire to drink away her day had returned powerfully. When she woke, she'd briefly considered doing what she could to find a gay bar, maybe try to pick a woman up, but the truth was that even if Lauren were the type to hit the gay bar scene, the possibility of running into Lucy made her want to throw up. So she'd caught another cab to O'Flaherty's early in the afternoon. Lauren didn't know if the same bartender would be there but she figured it was a win-win situation for her regardless. If it was a new bartender, Lauren could sit in the quiet bar and drink. If it was the same girl, she could spend another day admiring the most sexually appealing example of the female form she'd ever laid eyes on. Pulling open the door, Lauren was pretty sure which of the two options she'd prefer.
To her pleasure, nothing seemed to have changed from the day before. The same older gentleman was on his stool at one end of the bar, the same trivia show was on the TV he was watching and, sitting on the bar with her back towards the door, was a girl that Lauren could instantly recognize as the same one who'd served her the day before. It was just that spectacular ass.
A tilted head and a smile from the object of her lustful stares greeted Lauren's entrance.
"Well, goodness me, Jimmy, I now have two regulars," she said with some surprise. "I'll finally be able to buy that Cadillac."
"Yeah, well, I discovered this place before it was cool," Jim said cynically, his eyes not leaving the television.
"You're right," she said as her eyes went wide. "I don't know if I can take the hustle and bustle of being such a trendy hotspot."
"Money will change you," Jim agreed.
"God, it so would," she said dreamily, as if imagining her riches.
Lauren smiled. For brief moment in her fitful sleep, she'd thought she might have imagined the place, might have imagined both the woman and the bar. As she walked towards the bar she was glad to see that she was wrong. The woman was even more beautiful than she remembered. Now her hair was braided behind her head and her gorgeous chest hidden behind a tight green cardigan. Now Lauren felt like the dirty old perv as she looked at the girl with the same lust. She confidently walked to the bar and took the same seat she had the day before.
"Shot and a beer," she ordered.
To her surprise, though, the bartender shook her head. "Nope, can't do it," she said. "You get one day to anonymously drink away your sorrows, but if you're going to spend all of Tuesday and Wednesday drinking here then we're going to talk and figure out why."
"I don't really want to bore you with my problems," Lauren said. It was true. She appreciated the offer, even if the sympathetic ear of the bartender struck her as a tad cliché, but she was not a sharer at the best of times. She had grown up and been taught to tough out her problems, deal with them herself.
"Yeah, well, tough," the bartender said, pointing to a sign on the bar proclaiming the establishment's right to refuse service. "At the very least you're going to tell me your name and what your story is."
Lauren nodded. She could do that.
"Lauren Jauregui then," she said, extending her hand.
"Camila Cabello," the bartender said, gripping the extended hand. Her grip was firm but soft and Lauren shook it with a smile.
"Camila, huh?" Lauren chuckled
"Yeah, yeah, I was named after my dearly departed grandmother, so no jokes" she said, clearly used to having to explain her slightly old-fashioned name
"No, I like it," Lauren said honestly. "It kind of fits."
"How so?"
"Well, you have kind of a fifties pin-up girl look, you know? Marilyn, Mansfield, that sort of thing," Lauren said with admiration, looking again at a body that seemed to defy description as well as gravity. Still, as she'd idly thought of Camila as she'd drifted off to her drunken sleep the night before, a pin-up model from that era struck her as the best comparison.
"Is that good?" Camila asked as she set a beer down in front of Lauren,
"Oh yeah," Lauren exclaimed with, she thought, perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. Camila smiled and turned to Jim with a broad grin.
"See, told you," Camila said, leaning forward to playfully swat at the older man's arm with her bar towel. He reached back into his wallet and pulled out a crinkled five-dollar bill.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jim said wearily.
Lauren looked at the exchange with a little confusion. A look that Camila caught.
"We bet as to whether or not you were gay."
Lauren was a little taken back. She wasn't sure she liked being the subject of that bet. She wasn't used to her sexuality being a matter of public discussion and it made her feel a brief flash of panic. Lauren had to remind herself that she no longer had professional reasons to worry anymore about anyone knowing she was gay and she had no other concerns about being outed.
"Congratulations," Lauren said, tilting her beer towards the victorious Camila .
"Eh, I sort of cheated," Camila shrugged, tucking the five dollars into the front pocket of her jeans. "I was on the receiving end of your stares all day yesterday,"
Lauren could feel herself blush a little. She'd tried to been discreet and was disturbed to learn she'd failed so completely.
"Sorry, I just--"
Camila shook her head. "Don't apologize, I'm hot, " Camila said with absolute confidence in her words. "People stare at me all the time,"
Lauren had to smile. Both at the exchange and at the confidence on display. Lauren knew that many people considered her attractive. She'd certainly turned down enough fellow soldiers over the years to know she could turn a head if she needed it. Not in a million years, however, would Lauren have stated her own hotness the way Camila just had. Coming from a woman as gorgeous as Camila, though, it didn't strike Lauren as conceit or arrogance, just a simple statement of fact.
"Hey Camila," Jim broke in, "any chance you could lend me five bucks? I need to pay for my drinks."
Camila nodded and produced the same five-dollar bill from her pocket, sliding it across the bar to Jim.
