May the Best Lover Win

It didn't.

Instead, Blair smiled politely to the couple seated to one side and said, "I can make that vodka and tonic for you now ma'am."

Just one direct glance in his direction, as she unlocked the cabinet, told him everything she wanted him to know. "You're a fucking idiot!" She didn't even have to say it.

Rick didn't care one way or another that Blair was gay. People can love who they love, or fuck who they fuck, was his attitude. He knew she was not currently in a relationship, seemingly still looking for a new partner following a recent and much talked about breakup with a well-liked island girl. Rick respected her and enjoyed working with her; except at times like this, when he was wrong, or she was right, or both, and Blair made it known with her penetrating glare and often deflating words.

When she had first started work there, he considered hooking up with her. Until, in conversational reference, she indicated her sexual orientation. "My girlfriend and I love living here. Being gay is so much easier on the island. People are great," he remembered her saying.

She was certainly desirable, in her alt, edgy way. But, her being a lesbian was for the better anyway, he felt. Even if she had been interested in him, the inevitable messy consequences of screwing around with a coworker were the last thing Rick needed. He liked his job, and didn't want to poison the well. But it was still nice to work in with an attractive, if not sometimes intense woman like Blair.

He took his time motoring back home, allowing the ride to blow the stress from his mind and orient himself into a better mood for the party later at the marina.

His best friend from high school was co hosting his own birthday event with his girlfriend tonight. Rick had made a point to ask off work, and was sincerely happy for his friend and his evolving relationship with her. They had secured an open air space directly on the water, with a DJ and all the trappings of a local island affair.

For Rick, it meant a chance to see the two of them, plus a bevy of local ladies to flirt with, dance with, and hopefully enjoy later.

************************

Friday Afternoon - BLAIR

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Blair dressed for work, which meant wearing whatever the hell she wanted. His job as a bartender at a beach side establishment came with immense flexibility, so long as the job got done and the tourists and locals who came were well-treated and enjoyed their experience.

As a transplant to the island, bar tending at Mr. Busby's still felt at times like a dream job. Its postcard setting among the tall, swaying palm trees on a gorgeous white sand beach was the kind of place people fantasize about when they imagine island life. And here was Blair living it for real.

She arrived at work at noon, in time to prep for opening at one o clock. She would be working solo tonight, which was not normal for a Friday, but the other main bartender, a twenty-something dude named Rick, had scheduled the night off.

Together, Blair and Rick made up the principle bar tending staff for Mr. Busby's, along with two others who did part time shifts here and there. It was a good gig she felt, as it provided enough income to live on, and was a generally fun and enjoyable environment.

While it wasn't overtly stated by the bar's owner, Blair had become the understood leader at Mr. Busby's. Her attention to detail, propensity for getting things done, not to mention her sometimes intense, all business demeanor made for a natural pecking order. She was proud of herself at how it had evolved.

As she entered the bar, her mind clicked briefly on her earlier pleasure in the shower. "Focus," she told herself, interrupting her growing sense of emptiness at being single.

As an open air establishment, overnight liquor storage was serious business. Each night, every bottle was moved to a series of vault like cabinets, the keys for which were hidden in a different, keypad accessed closet. She went to retrieve the cabinet keys and found that one was missing.

Rick had worked on his own the prior night so he would have been the last to close up. She promptly called his cell phone, which went to voice mail after five rings. Irritated, she left him a stern question about the missing keys and continued her preparation for a busy Friday night.

Thirty minutes later, with no response from him, she called and left Rick another voice message as well as a text message. It was getting close to opening time and she would be without much of her bar supplies if she didn't gain access to the remaining locked cabinet. Over the subsequent hour, she continued to reach out to Rick, her irritation growing to the point of anger with each text and voice message.

Blair had always harbored mixed feelings about Rick. He was a cooperative coworker, a skilled mixologist and got along with everyone he met. It didn't hurt that he was ridiculously attractive. Blair had even fantasized about his strong physique against her body on that recent occasion that she had masturbated in her car after work. His fitness level, while attained naturally versus through hard work like hers, was appealing.

However, Rick was also an overgrown teenager in her view. He was well known as a womanizer, a fact that outweighed many of his positive characteristics as a human. He needed to grow up, she believed.

However, at that moment, she saw him as irresponsible.

She was open for business and serving a few early customers to the extent she could by the time a text message finally arrived from Rick saying that he was on his way with the missing key. Blair was ready to tear into him once he arrived.

A few, surprisingly quick minutes later, a shirtless Rick burst into the bar, panting, key in hand. Everyone stopped to notice the commotion. The panic on his face portrayed the fact that he understood he'd screwed up.

Blair took the key, intentionally silenced her anger but did her best to punish Rick with nothing more than a look, really more of a piercing glare that let him know what she thought.

Then as Rick turned and left, her attention shifted back to her customers, as if the irritation had never occurred. The rest of the night unfolded, for the most part, as busy Friday's always did.

Except that late, near closing time, a small group of twenty something locals arrived at Mr. Busby's. Blair recognized one of them from the grocery store where he worked. They gathered near the corner of her bar, and from what she could tell, they had just come from a party elsewhere.

Her attention perked up when she heard Rick's name mentioned. "This is the bar where Rick works, right?" she overheard. Discretely eavesdropping, she heard them joking about some sort of public embarrassment he'd endured earlier that night at the hands of one of the girls in the group. "I don't care how gorgeous he is, he's still a fucking prick. He's not going to get his hands in my pants," one of them said. "I can't believe he doesn't realize that everyone knows how much of a man whore he is..."

While Blair knew they were right about Rick and his reputation, she was uncomfortable hearing them disrespect her coworker behind his back. Yes, he was every bit the womanizer they described, but at the same time he was mostly well intentioned, and overall undeserving of such harsh and public degradation. She suppressed the temptation to speak up on his behalf, finished her shift and closed up.

Driving home, she thought more about the thrashing of Rick's reputation that she'd witnessed and wondered if he had any clue what they thought of him, or even whether he was mature enough to handle the realization if he did know. She wondered whether she should be the one to tell him.

Later, in bed, continued thoughts of Rick led to another mental review of his physical attributes as she imagined him on top of her, his cock penetrating her. To these images she climaxed before falling asleep.

****************

Saturday - RICK

****************

Waking up alone was by no means a unique situation for Rick, but it wasn't how he'd envisioned his Saturday morning. His morning hard on an inevitable reminder of how the previous night had ended.

The party had started out perfectly. There was great music from the DJ, a rain free night, often a concern in the tropics, and a target rich environment for an always amorous Rick. Early in the evening, he'd shown interest in Colette, a gorgeous dark skinned girl who had arrived on his patch of land within the last few months from her home country in Europe.

Rick spent most of the evening with her, dancing and charming his way into her favor; or so he thought. While she allowed an extended kiss during a romantic moment on the dance floor, Colette flatly rebuked his invitation for a Vespa ride to his house on the hill and some time alone together. She abruptly ended their conversation and moved on, partying with other girls.

His friends witnessed Rick's spectacular flame out, most of whom said they saw it coming, none of whom had any sympathy for him. He made a weak effort to hold his head high while those in-the-know enjoyed a collective laugh at his expense. His friend and party host was brutally direct. "Rick! It doesn't always have to be just about you getting some pussy." He sulked back home on the Vespa well before the party had ended.

After devoting ample time in the morning for self pleasure to relieve his previously unsatisfied libido, Rick rose and sought to shower off his disappointment. Hot water spilling down his frame, he reflected on the comments from his friend the previous night.

He had to admit that his promiscuous reputation was accurate. He'd spent most of his early adulthood either having fun or dreaming up new ways to have fun, which hopefully included getting laid. Add in his incessant drive for the next female conquest, and he'd left a trail of reputational wreckage in his wake. He realized that at some point, this was going to catch up with him. So in a new revelation, his friend's pointed comment was a bit of a wake up call.

He spent the day doing chores around the house, before preparing dinner and getting ready for work. He was intent on arriving early and handling the prep for tonight as a show of good faith and try to make amends for his screw up the day before.

Back on his scooter, motoring to work, he considered his latest transgression with Blair. She typically would immediately tear into him, but yesterday had been different. She'd not chewed him out, for whatever reason, and part of him wondered if she was just saving her best cannon blast until today.

He arrived more than an hour before normal, and had the bar fully prepped for a busy Saturday night just as Blair walked up the steps.

"I apologize," Rick impulsively shouted as Blair approached the bar. Some internal voice told him to get ahead of the problem, and throw himself on the sword before she could attack. "I screwed up. I was... uh... distracted... and left the key in my pocket." He wished he'd left out that last part. Blair had often chastised him for offering too much attention to attractive female customers while neglecting others.

Blair stood and stared menacingly at him, her brown eyes slashing raw gashes into his psyche. "I hope you at least got laid, dumbass." Then she relaxed, the tension in her face gone. "It's fine, no harm done. Customers got served."

She proceeded behind the bar. "But I heard you made at least one enemy with your speed record down the hill. Did you not see Rohndo's was one of the cars you passed illegally? He was off duty, but I heard he still might write you up for reckless driving!"

Rohndo was a friend of everyone, who came to the bar often, but who also happened to be an officer on the island police force. "Crap," answered Rick. He and Rohndo got along fine, but he would have to face that music if and when it played, he thought.

Saturday night at Mr. Busby's unfolded like a typical weekend night. There was a lively mix of local patrons, many on a first name basis with both Rick and Blair, and various pods of celebratory tourists, mostly couples and small groups.

During the evening, an attractive female customer arrived and took the only empty set at the end of the rectangular bar. Rick didn't recognize her, so assumed she was a visitor to the island. He thought it interesting that she nestled into a single seat between the other couples already seated. Either she was waiting for someone, or was quite confident.

When it came to work, Rick and Blair were a well oiled machine. They would each cover one side of the bar, and share the responsibilities for customers on the shared end of the rectangle where the attractive tourist was now seated. They pooled and split tips anyway, so happy bar customers made for more income for everyone.

Blair had been the first to greet her. Rick observed the thirty-something woman's effervescent smile, and overheard her brief conversation as she ordered. "I love this bar! I heard about it yesterday! This is what a beach bar should look like! So... make me the most tropical drink you have," she said with beaming enthusiasm.

Her eyes lit up a moment later when Blair returned with a simple rum fruit punch, but served in a carved out coconut with fruit slices around the top and a classic drink umbrella. To Blair and Rick, it was an overplayed tourist cliche, but to this cute woman, like so many before, it was like giving ice cream to a child. It was as if she'd discovered a new best friend in Blair, based on their continued conversation that followed.

Half an hour later, Rick was at that end of the bar and heard the slurp of a straw against the bottom of her empty coconut. He smiled and approached the lovely tourist. "I'd say you liked that! Can I make you another?" He immediately noticed her bright and energetic green eyes, as well as a slight sunburn on her nose and cheeks, confirming that she was most certainly a tourist. She gave off a girl next door aura, wearing no makeup, at least that he could detect, with shoulder-length blonde hair, and a snug tank top.

The muscle memory of Rick's usual, horny mindset kicked in automatically. "Very Nice!" He thought.

Out of bartender's habit, Rick reached for the empty coconut. As he grasped it, her hand extended to his, freezing him for a moment. Her hand covering his, sealing his gaze to her own, she visibly contemplated her answer out loud, "Hmmm... I think I'd like something different now; maybe something more... uh... seductive. Can you make me a martini?" While he didn't show it, he was a bit caught off guard. It was just a drink order, but Rick felt as if he'd just been propositioned.

Keeping his hand in hers, He silently regained his composure, flashed his best bartender grin and answered, "Absolutely. I can seduce you with a martini."

"I'm Rick, by the way." He retrieved her empty coconut while maintaining their eye contact. She was beaming a million dollar smile, and by his own self-absorbed estimation, seemed ready to fuck him on the spot.

"I'm Cassandra," she replied. "It's nice to meet you." More eye contact followed.

Dismissing his morning self acknowledgments, over the next hour, Rick took every opportunity to engage with her whenever he was at her section of the bar. She explained to him that she was on the island for a wedding the next evening, but needed a little "island time" on her own. "I've known the bride since high school but I'm like the extra chick outside her new circle of friends. And, just between us, those girls are seriously bitchy."

Rick, for his part, was his usually charming self, staying attentive, while not ignoring the other patrons on his side of the bar. He was more and more interested in this attractive visitor, and grew confident he would make his move toward the end of the night.

In between, he saw Blair also enjoying on and off, and seeming friendly conversation with Cassandra. Blair's demeanor, perhaps not coincidentally, had grown light, casual and almost sweet when compared to her usual tough, I'm in charge exterior. It was a pleasant change to observe in her, and made for a relaxed mood compared to some busy nights.

A short while later, Rick was standing near Cassandra. As Blair reached to retrieve her empty martini glass, Cassandra touched her hand, locking eyes with her, with the same wanton look that he had experienced. Blair leaned forward and they conversed quietly about something he couldn't hear.

As Blair turned to make Cassandra's next drink, she saw Rick watching her and looked away as if slightly embarrassed. Then, in an unexpected moment of openness, she grinned at Rick and nodded discretely toward Cassandra, a swooning expression on her face.

Rick immediately recognized the trouble unfolding. The gorgeous Cassandra had been hitting on them both.

Ever confident, especially where single women were involved, Rick was certain that he was the real object Cassandra's desire; and that Blair, while alluring in her athletic, tomboy way, couldn't possibly be. He concluded that he needed to stake his claim now and ensure that any confusion with Blair was cleared up well before it was time to close, when he would invite Cassandra for his overnight version of island time.

This was his game, she was his prospect, and not even the terrifying Blair was going to screw it up for him.

As He approached Blair for what would be a difficult, but hopefully short conversation, Cassandra noticed and called out, "Hey handsome! Make sure she makes my next martini as seductive as you did." Blair heard this and saw the lust filled look on her face as Cassandra smiled and stared now at Rick.

Rick didn't have to say it. Blair understood what was happening. "Are you fucking kidding me?," she whispered to him.

Rick took charge, "We need to talk." He motioned for Blair to follow him as he walked the twenty steps down his side to a spot where no patrons were seated. He turned confidently to face her.

"Blair, she's been flirting with me all night. And now I get that she's been doing the same thing with you," he said. Rick could already see Blair's spirit deflating with each word. "I know it's awkward, her being like that with both of us. It's not like I was coming on to her or anything, she clearly has a... a mission tonight I think."

Blair looked as though she might dissolve on the spot, her disappointment on full display for Rick. "She's so pretty, and so nice... I've loved just talking to her," she said. It was the most vulnerable he had ever seen Blair. It was clear that she was emotionally invested in the situation. She was single, and from what Rick could detect, didn't want to be. Further, while he had no close lesbian friends, he was aware enough to understand the bigger challenges Blair and her friends faced in the world. So a moment of mutual physical attraction, when it presented itself, was probably a welcome oasis.

In that instant, he arrived at a new, and for him, surprising perspective. He would concede, back off from Cassandra, and allow Blair the opportunity to enjoy her company this night hopefully, if that's where it led.

But Before he could say the words, he saw Cassandra energetically hop from her bar stool and make a beeline around the corner of the bar, eyeing them as she walked. Blair saw him notice and also turned to look as Cassandra walked up to them.

"I'm going back to my rental. it's a cool little condo over in the East End." She dropped a pile of cash on the bar along with a napkin on top, an address scribbled on it. "This should cover my tab, and here's the address. I'd really love it if you both came over to hang out tonight. You're so fun, and so cute; both of you! See ya later!" She flashed a seductive grin at each of them before she turned and marched from the premises.