Free Love's Last Chance by Jean C. Joachim Page A

huge, six-foot hero for dinner. Guess tonight’s party
is at our house.
    Allie and Mary had arrived. Bella was due
early Saturday morning. Dorrie knew Mary had had a thing for Johnny
five years ago and wondered if she still did. Hell, if I still
have a crush, she probably does, too. It doesn’t matter though.
Because there will be a ton of new ladies here for Johnny to
conquer. Forget it.
    Dorrie hated that her thoughts turned to
gloom on such a lovely night. She ate her sandwich, listening to
Mary brag about her latest promotion. Allie was unpacking. After
the food was gone, the heat from the crowd drove Dorrie outside,
accompanied by a glass of the multi-liquored punch. She perched on
the two front steps, trying to clear her mind and simply enjoy the
slight breeze cooling her off.
    Drake came by with Chrissy, who had decided
to bunk in with him. The talk got more rowdy as the punch
disappeared. Drunk people are loud and loose. Did I used to be
like that? Probably.
    Dorrie had not been able to sweep Johnny
from her thoughts or her senses. His allure was stronger than ever.
She wanted him but didn’t want to compete with every woman there
for his attention. Dejú vu. Why are you sitting here wallowing,
allowing Johnny to do this to you again? Get out there. Meet
someone else. There are a ton of guys here.
    Slowly she arose, drink in hand and started
toward the only bar on that part of the island.
    “Hey! Where you goin’? The party’s the other
way.” It was Johnny, approaching her. He’d obviously gotten some
sun that afternoon as he had a light tan and a little burn on his
nose. He wore a red T-shirt, which highlighted his dark good looks
and his bathing suit. Bathing suits were worn all the time on Fire
Island since you never knew when you’d hit the beach. He looks
so good.
    “Same old, same old,” she said with a wave
of her hand.
    “Not for five years! Come on. Join the
party.” He grabbed her elbow and steered her back inside.
    “John! Drake told me you were going to be
here, but I didn’t believe him. How are you?” Mary sashayed
over to Johnny, rubbing up against his arm. He smiled at her and
moved away slightly. Dorrie thought she’d throw up.
    “Fine, Mary. How’s it hangin’?”
    “Why don’t you show me how it’s hangin’,
John?”
    Mary grabbed his arm and led him over to the
sofa. He turned to make a face and shrug at Dorrie. Damn him!
Effing flirt! She threw a fake smile back at him and walked out
of the house, straight down to The Ocean Tavern three blocks
away.
    The music blared from the bar, cutting
through the quiet of the island where there were no cars, no
traffic, no sirens, nothing but human voices and the cries of
seagulls to disturb the peace. It’s rockin’. Might be up for a
dance or two. She pushed through the saloon-style doors and
entered a large room with people dancing while others sat or stood
at the bar, drinking. Beer seemed to be the drink of choice among
the Tavern’s clientele.
    Twenty and thirty-something men and women in
bare feet and bathing suits drank and danced. Dorrie got several
looks and smiles from men as she walked up to the bar. One man she
suspected of being younger than her thirty years, got up to give
her his seat.
    “You can sit here, darlin’, if you let me
buy you a drink.”
    Dorrie chuckled at his transparent pick-up
line. “Sure. I’d be honored,” she said.
    “Watcha drinkin’, beautiful?”
    “White wine.” The young man signaled the
bartender and ordered, but the noise level prevented her from
hearing what he said.
    “Name’s Mike.” He leaned over to speak close
to her and offered her his hand in a hearty shake. She slid her
bottom onto the barstool and smiled warmly at him. A gentleman,
perhaps? How rare. Am I a cynic?
    Dorrie toyed with a pretzel from the bowl on
the bar with one hand and held a glass of white wine in the other.
Mike regaled her with a tale of his week in Fair Harbor, and Dorrie
listened with only half an