Part 7 (2/2)
”Yeah, because you bribed the doorman.”
Nick waved him off with a smile. ”There's better girls here,” he said. He tilted his head at two women dancing with each other. ”You wouldn't see that at a bar.”
George shook his head. The crowd on the dance floor parted and across the room George caught a glimpse of white eyes and messy hair. He straightened up, but the dancers swayed and s.h.i.+fted and hid the sight from him.
”Truth is, I shouldn't be here,” said Nick. ”I've got to do a phone meeting in the morning. And I think the owner here doesn't like me. I helped set up a party here for one of our dumb-f.u.c.k clients and it didn't end well.” He had another mouthful of whiskey and soda. ”So what's gnawing at you?”
”What do you mean?”
”You suck at hiding your feelings, George. You always have. Something's been bugging you all night. Ever since I picked you up.”
He shrugged and sipped his own drink. ”Weird stuff.”
”Weird kinky or weird strange?”
”Not weird kinky,” George said. ”I've just felt really ... off, lately.”
”Sick?”
”No.”
”Good. Get me sick and I'll beat the c.r.a.p out of you. So what is it?”
George s.h.i.+fted on his side of the table. A new song started and a few people in the crowd cheered. He raised his voice. ”Have you ever had one of those dreams that were just ... real? One of those ones that's so real, when you woke up it took you a while to figure out if it had happened or not?”
”This is about a dream?”
”Answer the question.”
Nick settled one arm on the table. He was good at leaning in and not making it look awkward. ”Once or twice, I guess. I remember once when I was a kid I dreamed my dog was dead and I freaked out in the morning when I couldn't find him.”
”Where was he?”
”My brother took him for a walk.”
”What about one of the ones that are fresh and solid in your mind when you wake up, but then a couple minutes later they're gone. Wiped clean. There's just a ... a dream-shaped hole in your memories.”
”Yeah, okay, sure.”
George took a sip of his drink. ”I've been feeling like that for a few days. Maybe a few weeks. I'm not sure.”
”Feeling like what?”
He tapped the side of his gla.s.s. ”Like I've forgotten something. I pretty much always feel like there's something I should remember and I can't. Something right there that I just can't see, y'know?”
”You're acting weird because you forgot a couple of dreams?”
”No.” George shook his head. ”It's not dreams, it's life. I feel like this when I'm awake. I've got this constant, nagging feeling I've just forgotten something.”
”Like a dream?”
Over Nick's shoulder, a gap opened at the bar. There was a woman there with stringy blond hair. It looked like she hadn't washed it in months. In fact, it looked like there were things tangled in it. One of the thin straps of her top had slid off her shoulder, and that side sagged dangerously low. She didn't seem to notice or care. Her skin looked pale against the dark top.
Her head swung in a slow arc that made him think she'd been drugged. Her eyes were blank, pink circles in the club's red lights. Her mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air. George was sure if the music hadn't been so loud he would've heard her teeth hitting each other from here.
Then the bartender stepped forward to set some drinks on the bar and blocked the woman from view. When the gap opened again, the woman had turned around. Then a couple of guys filled the gap and she vanished.
Nick held out his hand and snapped his fingers. ”Hey.” He glanced over his shoulder, scanned the bar, and looked back at George. ”Someone over there I should know about?”
”I don't think so,” he said. ”I just ... I thought I saw someone I recognized.”
”A girl?”
”Yeah?”
”From campus.”
”No.” He wasn't sure where he knew the woman from, but he was pretty sure it wasn't work. He shook it off.
”So you're just in some kind of ... what, existential funk?”
”Maybe? I don't know.”
”We so need to get you laid.” Nick gestured at the two women dancing with each other. ”Two of them, two of us, what do you say?”
”What about the publicist? Nina?”
”Nita. I was thinking of blowing her off and inviting that gymnast we saw in the parking lot the other day.”
”I don't know if you're pathetic or ... something else.”
”I'm good with something else.” He settled back into his side of the booth. His sungla.s.ses reflected the dance floor, and for a moment the spinning lights gave the lenses a mechanical look, like a camera iris.
”You want to hear something even weirder?”
”Something weirder than you ignoring two hot, scantily clad women putting on a show for us?” Nick sat up. ”Please, tell me. I'm dying to know.”
George gave the women an obligatory glance and then took a sip of his drink. He was already a bit hoa.r.s.e from raising his voice to be heard. ”Okay, you know how when you have the realistic dreams, your mind fills in all the missing parts? If you're a pirate you know all the crew names and how you all met, that kind of thing?”
”You're dreaming you're a pirate?”
He shook his head. ”No.”
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