(A segment of Bullets and Frozen Bananas)

Yawning, Cami stretched and rolled over, kissing me, welcoming me into her world. I was working on drinking my second cup of coffee, so I offered to get her one. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she smiled. “That would be amazing.”

We met a few weeks ago through mutual friends at Club ‘87, but all of us locals knew it as ‘eight-seven’ or 1475 because of its address: 1475 S. Rindel, in Tigard, Oregon, a few feet from Beaverton.

“Do you have my keys?” Panicking, I checked my jeans. “I think I might have left them at 87.” I rolled my eyes. The last thing I wanted to do was return to ’87, asking if they found my keys. I had my office keys, Cami’s apartment key, and my Tesla FOB connected to them.

She blinked and rubbed her eyes, squinting. “Thank you,” she replied, smiling as I handed her a cup that read ‘BELIEVE’ in rainbow colors. “Are you sure about that? You know I can call Andrews. He closed ’87 last night.” Cami was Andrews right-hand ‘man,’ one of many reasons I was there. Several acquaintances came to the club, discussing the potential of expanding the club and franchising it. Andrews was the brainchild of 87, partnered with Miles Gerhardt and Brian Feyre. I don’t know if anyone knew Andrews first name. Our friends called him by his last name when we met in college and I’m pretty sure we all knew then that he’d do what he was doing; making a ton of money with a nightclub in Beaverton. Andrews opened six months earlier, fast becoming the most hopping club in the Pacific Northwest. For those who remember CBGB and Studio 54, his nightclub was getting similar notoriety. Thanks to his marketing and advertising, he paid off his lenders in less than ninety days.

Cami sipped her coffee while I tore apart her apartment, struggling to keep my cool. “Alex, please. Stop destroying my apartment. They aren’t here. There are two places you keep your keys,” she pointed to a nightstand on the left side of the bed, “there and there.” She pointed to my jeans balled up on the floor. “It’s not that hard to figure out they are not here,” she pushed buttons on her cell phone. “Good morning, Andrews. Alex lost his keys and . . .” she held up a finger, smiling. “Yes. We’ll be right down. Thank you for finding them. Yes, he was starting to rip up floorboards, telling me he brought them home with us last night,” Cami smiled, winking at me. “No, we don’t want to impose.” She cradled the phone between her shoulder and her ear, making a heart out of her hands, pointing at me, and smiling. “Well, I guess so. If you insist,” she pressed the mute button on the phone and asked, “Do you have time for breakfast? Or do you need to get to work?”

“No. I have,” I looked at my watch, “about three hours before my first appointment.”

“Great.” Cami turned her attention back to the cell phone. “Twenty minutes, Andrews. Yeah, well it’s easy since it’s less than two blocks away.” Cami laughed. “No, I won’t be late. Alex will make sure of that. Okay. Bye.”

“Breakfast with Andrews?” I asked Cami.

“You said it’d be okay. Why are you getting cold feet now?” She grabbed a pair of well-worn jeans and a sweatshirt from the floor. Underneath her outfit was a brown pair of worn-out Birkenstocks that looked good on her pedicured feet.

“I hate how he makes everyone feel inferior to him because his club is doing oh-so-well.” Cami knew me well enough that if I could find a way to help someone, I would. Andrews refused help, preferring to purchase it instead. That part of him never made sense to me. Grabbing my jeans and a wrinkle-free Pearl Jam t-shirt, I bought two days earlier from the floor, I dressed fast. Cami was already in the bathroom, applying a light coverup, eyeliner, and mascara. The final touch was a light, clear lipgloss that made her lips pink and shiny, perfect for a sunny Oregon day. She smiled at me again, grabbed me tight, and kissed my lips, smearing the lipgloss all over. Ending the kiss with a smack, she laughed. “Now your lips will be plumpy, too.”

“Great. That’s just what I need, Cami. Andrews will think I got Botox.” I did my best to scrub it off. But it was too late. The lipgloss soaked into my lips, plumping them as Cami predicted.

“Wow, baby.” Cami’s eyes widened. “You are so hot right now. Maybe we should skip breakfast,” she said, pulling me back into the bedroom.

I kissed her forehead. “To be continued, Cami. Okay?” Cami winked at me, nodding.