The Furies Read Free

too rumpled. He smiled back at her and raised his own glass, which was almost empty.
    She said something to the two men at her table. Then she rose to her feet and came toward him. He felt another burst of adrenaline, stronger this time. She was so damn gorgeous. Way out of his league, to tell the truth. John wasn’t successful or fashionable. He was just a bruiser from North Philly who’d wasted his youth on the streets and washed out of the army and whose greatest accomplishment in life had been simply staying out of jail. The only thing he had going for him was his size—he was a big guy, six foot three, and still in pretty good shape. His ex-wife used to say he looked like Derek Jeter of the Yankees, and on John’s good days he could see the resemblance when he looked in the mirror. Like Jeter, he had a white mom and a black dad, and his own skin color was exactly in-between. But Jeter was a happy guy, always smiling when John saw him on television, even when he struck out. John didn’t have as much to be happy about.
    The redhead stopped three feet away from him, behind the neighboring bar stool. He noticed she’d brought her wineglass with her, which was a good sign. She cocked her head and gave him a mock-suspicious look. “So was your luck any better than mine?” she asked. “Did you get any interviews?”
    He liked her directness. This was a girl who got right to the point. He shook his head. “None whatsoever. It was a complete waste of time.”
    â€œI’m starting to think I picked the wrong profession. I should’ve listened to my mother and gone to dental school.” She smiled again, revealing her perfectly white teeth. Then she held out her hand. “My name’s Ariel.”
    Interesting name . Half-rising from his stool, he grasped her hand, which was slender and warm. “I’m John,” he said. “John Rogers. Nice to meet you.” He pointed at the bar stool next to his. “Would you like a seat?”
    She glanced over her shoulder at her table. Her companions were ordering another round of drinks from the waitress and flirting with her. Ariel rolled her eyes and turned back to him. “Sure, why not. My friends are busy.”
    â€œI thought they were your brothers. They look like twins, almost.”
    â€œThey’re brothers, but not mine. I went to high school with them in Connecticut. They both work on Wall Street now. I called them this morning when I got into town and they promised to buy me a drink.” She moved a bit closer and lowered her voice. “They feel sorry for me. They’re making tons of money, and I’m still living at home with my parents.”
    John pulled out the stool for her. She sat down, crossing her legs again, and set her wineglass on the bar. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. It took all his strength to stop himself from gawking at her cleavage. “So, uh, you still live in Connecticut?”
    She nodded. “Yeah, and it’s boring as hell. I moved back home after I got my bachelor’s in social work. I thought I’d be there for just a month or two, but it’s taking forever to find a job.”
    â€œWelcome to the club. I’ve been looking for almost a year. I work construction to pay the bills.”
    â€œI’m going to another job fair tomorrow. Luckily, I found a cheap hotel in Brooklyn to stay tonight.” She leaned toward him, resting an elbow on the edge of the bar. “What about you? You live in New York?”
    A beam from one of the overhead track lights illuminated the right side of her face, and John noticed a thin faded scar on her temple. Looking closer, he saw another faint scar just below her left ear and a tracery of lines on the side of her neck. He wondered how she’d been injured, wincing as he viewed all her scars. She must’ve been in a car accident, he thought, a pretty bad one. But judging from the faintness of