Marcel Conway is fresh on the market for a new year of the Mating Season: a sex auction masquerading as a Peace Trade to keep the packs from going to war. But she's gritting her teeth and digging her heels in, determined to come home to her small bu...
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☽☾☽☾☽☾
"Just what about me screams 'I love antiquing?'"
I was staring up at a old, flickering neon sign that gleamed Antique Lounge & Bar. This fossil of a bar was located in a dusty old corner of down town, finished with an ancient, wood chipped door with a rusted handle, protected by a rickety pair of wrought iron bifold doors. The warm light spilled from the iron bars secured to the windows and the constant glimmering of the sign cast alien like colors over the two of us.
"If I drink a 1920s, prohibition era, glass of bootleg moonshine-," I started, waving a finger at Donovan in warning. He merely coughed a laugh and went to push a button on the wall to buzz ourselves in.
"Look, I feel bad about how dinner went," Donovan sighed as we waited for the door to unlock. When my skin was littered with chills, I immediately assumed it was because of the crisp cool night air. "I dumped a lot on you...Please don't think I'm going to stay so secretive, I intend to be honest with you. Tonight is about you, however. So...can we wipe the slate clean?"
"How do you propose we do that?" I asked when the door was unlocked. As the wooden door swung on it's hinges, the iron bifold doors creaked open and the warm light inside suddenly enveloped the two of us as we stood on the sidewalk.
"It's an antique bar," Donovan's voice caused me to shiver as he led me inside and I felt my jaw unhinge. "I wouldn't bring you to a grandmother's attic. I thought this might be more up your alley."
It was definitely antique.
Three-quarters of the eastern wall was covered in an assortment of wine bottles, and soft blue and purple lights caused the bottles to gleam gently. There was red and white upholstered seating with mahogany wood finish, complemented by matching small coffee tables and end tables. The bar top itself looked vintage and crafted from hand. To our immediate left was a collection of vintage arcade games and even beaten old ski ball machine.
The lights from the retro machines cast a conglomerate of colors across the arcade area, the walls accompanied with dusty old collectibles and black and white pictures. I could make out a stairwell just behind the bar, nestled between two arcade machines, no doubt leading to a quieter sitting area. I could just make out the subtle sound of Doris Day crooning in the background...
Even as I took my first breath inside the bar, I expected the pungent scent of mothballs to fly up my nose...but instead, I was met with the cozy scent of liquor, sweet soda pop, and even old cigars.
"I feel like Marty McFly," I uttered, my eyes struggling to absorb this bar. It was like an adult playground for kids that never wanted to grow up.
"Would you like a drink?" Donovan offered, startling me back to reality. I looked at him, my heart switching beats as I took in his handsome face, much warmer than it was before.
