Arrhythmia (3 page)

After the fifth song, I asked Frank to allow me to catch my breath. I reminded myself to get more exercise. The dancing had made me huff like a walrus, while my partner looked like he was just up from a refreshing nap.

“I need a drink,” I groaned, collapsing against the counter.

“Lena, how come you’re so out of shape?” Frank teased as he motioned to the bartender.

“Shape? What the hell is that?”

“You’re not getting any younger, you know . . .”

Excuse me?
I gave Frank a venomous look and stuck my tongue out at him.

Several drinks later, Vera showed up and asked me to catch a breath of fresh air with her. It sounded like a terrific idea; the air in the club had gotten so stifling that sweat was trickling down my back.

And so we left Frank to his own devices in the Jukebox and meandered out onto the large smokers’ patio.

There were almost more people milling about the outside area than there were inside, and we pushed our way toward a spot where we hoped to carve out a little space without bodily contact.

Every step I took made me realize that the alcohol was increasingly fogging my mind. While I was inside, my head had felt relatively clear, but outside I was swiftly entering an advanced state of inebriation. As an experienced partier, I was aware of the effect fresh air has on a drinker transitioning from a stuffy environment. But this disorientation was throwing even me for a loop.

Exactly how much had I had to drink? Surely it hadn’t been
that
much?

My stuffed-up ears and heavy tongue proved otherwise.
Damn it!

All of a sudden I was glad to be surrounded by so many people and thus prevented from falling over. Vera was purposefully making her way through the crowd ahead of me and thus was unaware of my severely altered condition.

“Oh look! That’s Verena over there!” Vera warbled cheerfully. “Be right back!”

And off she went.
Great . . .

Vera seemed to know every second inhabitant of Wollbach. I had no clue who this Verena might be, but at that particular moment, I could not have cared less.

There I stood in the midst of the crowd, like someone all dressed up with nowhere to go, swaying like a reed in the wind.

Damn her. Leaving me behind, helpless and drunk. Bitch . . .

Annoyed, I set my sights on a bar that was decorated to look like Mallorca. I leaned against the counter and was grateful for the support. I weakly signaled the bartender to bring me a mineral water.

Aaahh. Astonishing how marvelous a simple water could taste!

I sucked at the bottle as if I had just crossed the Gobi desert, emptying half with one swallow.

The man next to me was watching me unabashedly. Once I had quenched my initial thirst, he moved in closer. “Hey there, little lady! You really should drink something a little stronger!”

“No, thanks. I’ve had enough,” I replied politely, though my words were a little slurred.

“Nonsense! Come on, I’ll buy you a drink!”

“No, thank you. I don’t want anything. I have to be able to walk home.”

“Well, you don’t need to worry about that,” he said. “I’d be happy to take you home.”

Of course he would. I could see exactly what he was expecting in return.

I took a closer look at him. Late thirties, accountant written all over him. Absolutely not my type. But it was the little accessory on his right hand that most turned me off.

I pointed at the gold ring. “And what about this?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I can take it off if you like,” he suggested helpfully.

“Oh, and you don’t think your wife might be offended?” I asked.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

What an asshole!

I almost smacked him but contained myself. Chastising a stranger for his infidelity was not my thing.

The dude obviously misinterpreted my silence. He seemed to think I was actually contemplating taking him to my place. To facilitate my decision, he placed his arm heavily on my shoulder and pulled me tight against him. “You won’t regret it,” he whispered.

Enough was enough!

I shook him off and looked at him furiously.

“What the hell? You’re married, dude! Pay some attention to your wife and leave me the hell alone! I’m not interested in this bullshit!” I screamed, causing every head within earshot to turn in our direction.

What a dirtbag!

Men were all the same. They were all constantly plotting how to screw as many women as possible. I got the thing about sex being a primal instinct, but surely the human brain had evolved enough for people to control their damn selves.

Irritated by the male sex as usual, I moved on, without a goal.

Where the hell is Vera?
She was in for it.

After some time, I concluded that it was pointless to look for her in this throng and I would be best off finding my way back to Frank and his group. I pointed myself back toward the entrance, but I was so tipsy that it was impossible to walk in a straight line. I kept colliding with people and being thrown off course like a Ping-Pong ball.

Goddamn alcohol!

At least I’d had the wisdom to forego high heels and opt for my ballerina flats that evening.

I pressed the water bottle against my chest and focused on the door. Just a little ways short of my goal, some similarly inebriated person shoved past me. This proved too much for my compromised equilibrium, and I helplessly stumbled sideways, trying desperately to compensate for the blow.

Before I knew what was happening, I had the sensation of being caught and slamming into someone’s chest. I gratefully accepted sanctuary in the stranger’s strong arms.

Hmm. This guy’s chest is unbelievably cozy.

I might have continued snuggling against this inviting stranger had I not heard an amused “Whoops a daisy!”

Embarrassed, I extricated myself from the saving embrace, trying to find my rescuer’s face . . . and froze.

No. Way.

“Well, look who we have here!” the ticket thief exclaimed cheerfully. “Seems as though you enjoy running into me!”

There I stood, straight as a pole—well, almost—and stared directly into those ocean-blue eyes. He returned my look with a soft smile, which had the most peculiar effect on my knees for some reason. While they had been unsteady before, they now wobbled and threatened to give out altogether.

Command Center to Lena’s knees: stand still at once!

Their obedience was limited, but it prevented me from collapsing like a wet sack. I did note, however, that this guy always seemed to catch and stabilize me with both forearms.

My God, is he strong . . .

Enough! Something was wrong! Why the hell was I still staring at him like a complete idiot?

He seemed to be asking himself the same question, because he asked, “You OK?”

Hell no!

“Sure! It’s just that I needed to get away from there ’cause some sleazebag came on to me even though he’s married, and I was pissed. And I can’t find Vera. So I thought I should go back inside and find my other friend, and some jerk ran into me and I lost my balance. That’s all,” I blurted out in one breath.

What kind of nonsense was I talking?

He laughed. “Well then, you’re lucky on two counts, because not only am I not married, I’m also not a sleazebag!”

Note to self: he’s single.

As his words spun around in my head, the blue of his eyes held me captive while I clutched my water bottle as though it were a life preserver saving me from drowning in their deep ocean.

Wait a second. What exactly did he just say?

“Then what was that just now? Are you trying to hit on me?” I asked with an aggressively disinterested tone.

“That was precisely my plan,” the ticket thief admitted.

I brushed away his hands and made a threatening gesture.

“You can go ahead and forget it. You stole from me today. Yes, you did. And now you’re trying to hit on me? Disgusting!” I shouted, knowing even as I said it that this was the alcohol speaking.

The ticket thief looked at me in disbelief. “What? I stole from you?”

“Exactly. Now you want to deny it? You. Stole. From. Me.” I underscored each word by poking my water bottle into his abdomen. A rather muscular abdomen, I might add . . .

He snatched my weapon from me. “Just a moment here,” he said calmly. “Start again from the beginning. What is it that I’m supposed to have stolen? It sure wasn’t your innocence, because that I would remember.”

What the . . . ? Is that supposed to be funny?

I decided to ignore that line and instead grabbed at the bottle so I could bean him over his insolent skull with it. But his fingers held it in an iron grip.

“You stole my tickets!” I hissed.

He thought briefly until his eyes lit up. “You wanted to buy Pink tickets!”

I nodded angrily.

“Ah, I see. And the ones I bought were the last ones?”

“Exactly. And it’s your fault I can’t go to the concert.”

“Oh.” He looked genuinely contrite. “I’m so sorry that you couldn’t get tickets.”

He let me have the bottle. I crossed my arms and pouted.

“Of course, that wasn’t my intention at all,” he replied with a smile so suave that it almost knocked the wind out of me. “May I buy you a drink at the bar to make amends?”

I tried to work my way out of his gaze. “Not a chance!”

“Aw, come on. Are you going to be this pissed at the other fifty thousand fans who got tickets?”

“Yes.”

He laughed. “All right then, what can I do to make it up to you?”

“Give me the tickets!”

“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

He scratched the back of his head, and I couldn’t help but notice the toned brachial muscle in his arm. “I’m sure you realize that I didn’t buy the tickets to annoy you. I’ve always wanted to see Pink perform live, so I can’t give up my hard-won tickets just like that.”

Not just like that? Then how? Perhaps in exchange for some physical quid pro quo? No problem!

Whoa there, Lena, what kind of reasoning was that?

“Don’t look at me so reproachfully,” the ticket thief said. “It’s not like you’d give up the tickets if the shoe were on the other foot, right?”

Of course not!

My expression must have spoken volumes, because he nodded, vindicated. “Exactly. So why don’t we make the best of things and get out the peace pipe?”

Did he actually believe I would be appeased so easily? No, sir. I was in no mood for peace! For sex, maybe . . . but peace? No way!

I planted myself in front of him, a move that surely didn’t look nearly as threatening as it should have, given my vertical instability. Still, I stretched my neck and began prodding him with the top of the water bottle again.

“In the first place, I don’t smoke. Second, it’s not that easy to mollify me, because the concert meant just as much to me. And third”—I deliberated for a moment—“third, I have zero interest.”

The ticket thief tilted his head and, quick as lightning, grabbed my bottle and pulled me to him in one swift move. Stunned, I landed with my nose on his chest for what was now the third time that day. I was unable to move for a moment and just squinted up at him in bewilderment.

“You have zero interest in my peace offering or you have zero interest in me?” he wanted to know.

“Both,” I muttered, though my quavering voice didn’t sound very convincing.

The ticket thief laughed softly, and I could feel his entire rib cage vibrate. I instinctively held my breath and sensed a strange tingling running down my back.

“Somehow, I don’t quite believe that,” he whispered in my ear. His voice brought me to the brink of a complete meltdown.

Lena! Gather your wits and use them immediately!
Who does this guy even think he is? Damn macho asshole.

I pulled away and nearly toppled over backward, but he had the presence of mind to grab my arm. I hastily freed myself from his grasp, took a deep breath, and glared at him with all the disdain I could muster.

“Listen up, sweetie pie,” I said. “Your shtick might go over well with most women, but in my case you’re barking up the wrong tree. I have been immune to Casanovas like you for a long time, so I suggest you take your pretty smile and direct it at some girl who doesn’t know any better!”

Very pleased with my little speech, I awaited his reply. Imagine my surprise when he inquired, with an insolent grin spread across his face, “Oh, so you think I have a pretty smile?”

Incredible!

“You . . . really,” I stammered. “You really are incredibly—”

“Thank you very much!”

“Incredibly full of yourself!” I snorted the rest of my sentence.

Judging by his expression, he was taking this as yet another compliment.

“Oh my God!” I threw up my arms in dramatic resignation, again losing my balance. However, this time I was able to catch myself, and I used the momentum to barrel past the ticket thief and back into Go’s main room.

Grumbling under my breath in disbelief, I wobbled over to the Jukebox. There, I started by ripping the shot glass out of a very confused Frank’s hand and emptying its contents down my throat.
Jägermeister, yuck!
Next, I rapped Vera rather rudely on the head and gave her a lecture on friendship and mutual trust.

For the time being, I kept my deeply confusing second encounter with the ticket thief to myself.

Chapter 4

I awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and an awful taste in my mouth.

Ugh! I really had overdone it.

I recalled with horror how Vera and Frank had struggled to take me to my apartment. Once there, I had dragged myself to the bathroom and prayed to the porcelain god with great devotion. Afterward, I had somehow been successful in tearing off my clothes and crawling, naked and on all fours, into my bed, where I had fallen into some sort of coma.

My clock radio proudly announced that it was 1:42 p.m. This did not particularly concern me except that I urgently had to pee, so I groaned, rolled onto my side, and climbed out of bed, wincing with pain.

As I padded out of my darkened bedroom into my well-lit apartment, I decided this must be how vampires felt. Blinded, weak, and irritated, I shuffled into the bathroom and plopped down on the toilet seat.

Damn alcohol!

Just like everyone who has ever had a really bad hangover, I promised myself faithfully never to have another drink in my life. I wondered how long it would take to break that promise.

Once I’d managed a more or less upright position, I dragged myself into the shower and tried to scrub off the boozy night.

I was only partially successful, but the hot water made me feel almost human again. I tottered into the kitchen with wet hair and a giant towel and began to hunt for the headache medicine necessary for survival.

A little while later, I was sitting on my balcony with my lifesaving medication and a freshly brewed cup of coffee, waiting for my vital spirits to return.

I loved my balcony.

While my apartment was a little on the small side, the balcony was relatively spacious. It had a cozy corner sitting area for four and a rustic rocking chair in which I had spent many an hour curled up with a suspense novel. In addition, it offered an awesome view of the entire neighborhood, and I had witnessed lots of interesting squabbles from there. Which is not to say, of course, that I’m nosy . . .

Mr. Kaltenberger from the second floor of the opposite building, on the other hand, was extremely nosy and never failed to appear on his balcony when I was on mine. He could definitely be considered a Peeping Tom, but since he must have been around seventy, I granted him his fun. My towel outfit seemed to particularly appeal to him, as he couldn’t take his creeper eyes off me.

I waved with exaggerated cheer and toasted him with my coffee cup. Caught in the act, he turned and fled into his apartment, only to reappear a little while later to water his plants.

Relaxed, I gently rocked back and forth on my rocking chair and recalled the events of the previous evening. Since I never experienced the blackout phenomenon, I wasn’t spared any details. Drinking to the point of collapse and remembering all the particulars the following day was both a blessing and a curse: a blessing in that I was able to remind my friends of all their embarrassments and a curse because I was forced to remember my own.

I grimaced when I thought of the ticket thief.

Had I really accused him of having stolen from me? God, I’d said so many stupid things . . . And then his come-ons! Holy shit, this womanizer was in a class all his own.

But the worst of it by far was my swooning reaction. What was that thing with the shaky knees? Had I really been so attracted to him, or could I blame the alcohol?

Truth be told, I knew my tipsiness was only part of the cause. His incredible eyes were far more responsible.

He was an insanely attractive man; that much was clear.

Unfortunately, the problem with most beautiful men was that they were well aware of their effect on women and used it shamefully to their advantage.

The ticket thief had clearly demonstrated his awareness of his smoking looks and knew precisely how to turn some unsuspecting girl’s head. I wondered just how many women he’d maneuvered into bed. The list must have been extensive.

I hadn’t been lying when I’d informed him that I knew all about machos like him.

Oh indeed, I knew his type quite well; personal experience had taught me never to trust a pretty boy again.

I sighed and reflected as I mentally sent my condolences to each of his victims.

I managed to stay holed up in my apartment for what remained of my Saturday, but Vera succeeded in dragging me out to brunch with her on Sunday.

OK, fine, I went along willingly, my mouth watering at the prospect of a long buffet full of delicious brunch food. My tormented stomach hadn’t allowed me too great an intake of sustenance the preceding day, so I was pretty starving when I arrived at our favorite restaurant, Café Scarlett. Sebastian’s bright blond hair helped me spot my friends easily in the crowded restaurant. I had to force myself to sit politely at their table and not dive face-first into the buffet full of nicely displayed delicacies.

I greeted Vera, Sebastian, and Frank with a melancholy look.

“So, how’s the boozehound? Everything OK?” Vera asked.

“Today, pretty much, yeah,” I replied honestly. “Yesterday was not so great.”

“I’m not surprised,” said Frank. “I haven’t seen you that drunk in a very long time.”

“I know, I know.”

“Lena got wasted?” Sebastian inquired, amused.

I waved my hands. “Oh come on. It wasn’t that bad.

“Excuse me!” shouted Vera. “We had to carry you up the stairs!”

“Bullshit!” I countered with righteous indignation. “I walked up the stairs on my own two feet! Don’t lie!”

“Well, yes, you did walk on your own,” Frank teased gently. “Just not in the direction you wanted to.”

Sebastian sniggered.

And these were supposed to be my best friends?

“Go ahead and make fun of me. You’ll get yours soon enough,” I threatened, gesturing for a waiter to bring me a drink.

“Oh come on, don’t be such a poor sport,” Vera said. “You’re always the one who makes us relive our drunken foolishness the day after. Let us have our fun.

I muttered something to myself and eyed the buffet.

“Were you guys celebrating or did you have some reason to get shitfaced?” asked Sebastian.

“As if,” was all I could say as I took my drink from the server.

Old motormouth Vera could not resist telling the story of the concert tickets. Both men grinned as they listened to her tale. Afterward, Frank patted my arm and said in a consoling tone, “Now I understand why you had to drown such heartrending sorrow in alcohol.”

“Idiot,” I grumbled.

“Oh yeah, especially since the thief was at Go on Friday,” Vera trumpeted.

“You should have confronted him and demanded the stolen goods!” Sebastian joked.

“No worries. I did,” I said, because his dumb laughter was beginning to grate on my nerves. And, surprise, he actually did stop laughing.

“Wait. You did?”

“Oh yeah, I gave him a piece of my mind,” I declared stiffly. I omitted mentioning his come-ons and my resulting insecurity.

“And when was that, if you don’t mind telling me?” Vera asked incredulously.

I gave her a look full of reproach. “When you abandoned me on the patio with no idea where I was.”

“Well, it sounds like I really missed out.”

“Yeah.”

“And what did he say?”

“Huh?”

“What was his response to your speech?”

I shrugged dismissively. “Oh, I dunno. He wouldn’t hand over the tickets.”

“That’s understandable,” chortled Sebastian. “I can just imagine a strange woman coming up to me and—”

“Can we please get something to eat already?” I interrupted him. “I’m starving.”

Frank threw up his hands dramatically. “Feed the beast at once, before she smites us with her wrath!”

“Very funny.”

I didn’t hold it against him, though. I knew as well as he that I could be insufferable when I was hungry. Like any normal person.

To put a stop to this embarrassing conversation, I rushed over to the long table piled high with food.

At last!