If I ever thought I’d have a reason to remember meeting Darcy, it would be for the little stunt she pulled. I had no idea that would end up being the least memorable thing about her.

“Hey,” she said, looking down at an iPad, flicking her finger across the screen. “You Dean?”

I wasn’t expecting anyone. I don’t even know how she got into the office. Unplanned visits weren’t really a thing in my business. She was just at my door when I looked up.

“I’m Mr. Fletcher, yes.”

“Cool, Dean.” She came over to my desk and put the iPad down in front of me. She patted a few pockets until she found a stylus and tossed it on the desk. “Sign on the dotted line. It’s for a delivery, down at the loading dock.”

“What is it?”

“No idea. A couple of pallets of something. I just drive the truck and drop it off.”

“We have a guy for this, Marcus in shipping-receiving. You didn’t see him down there?”

“Whoever sent it wants the owner’s signature. Not a lackey. I can’t release it unless you sign.”

“This doesn’t sound right,” I said. “Hold on a minute.”

When I picked up the phone to call Marcus, Darcy rolled her eyes and let out a loud, exaggerated sigh. Her hand went to an inside pocket of her jacket, and she pulled out a packet of folded papers. She slapped them down on my desk.

“You’ve been served.”

“What?”

“I don’t know anything about it. I’m just the process server.”

I started flipping through the court documents. They were from a former client, going back a few months. I couldn’t imagine what they’d be suing for. Darcy didn’t look like she cared, not that I would have expected her to. She just wanted my signature.

“It’s less work for me if you sign, but you’re served either way. You’d be doing me a solid.”

Part of me didn’t want to do her any favours after she tried to fool me. But at the same time, I kind of admired the gall of marching into my office and committing to the whole truck-driver bit. It was clever.

“You could have been honest with me,” I said as I signed her screen.

“Where’s the fun in that?” she asked. “I’ve got five more of these to do today. I’d lose my fucking mind if all I did was ruin people’s day. At least you’ve got a story now.”

I laughed and handed the iPad back to her. She gave me a funny look.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She took the iPad. “Most people want to strangle me. You laughed.”

I held my hands up like I was choking the air in front of me.

“You’re something,” she said. “See you around.”

“I doubt it.”

My wife Helen and I went over the court documents later that night. They were claiming damages. We’d sold them eighty grand worth of crap from China for their dollar store, and now they were saying ten thousand dollars of it was damaged goods. No fucking way. Nothing leaves the warehouse without getting inspected. It was a shakedown. We both knew it, but Helen already decided it didn’t matter.

“We should at least talk to a lawyer,” I said.

“Why pay five grand in legal fees just to have them tell us it’ll cost another twenty to fight it?”

“So we just cut a cheque for ten grand because some dollar store knows they can fuck us?”

“This way saves us money.”

“Their claim is bullshit, though. Doesn’t that count for anything?”

“Do you want to be right and out twenty-five grand, or just write off a tax-deductible ten-thousand-dollar business expense and move on?”

I don’t know why I bothered arguing. I knew we were going to do it her way. We always did.

Helen had a million other questions about everything, and I answered all of them. But when she asked how the papers had been sent over, I froze up for a second.

“Just some guy,” I told her.

I don’t know why I lied. I had no reason to. Maybe it was because I’d been thinking about Darcy all day. It wasn’t because she was attractive, even though she was in her own way. She looked like some Queen Street alt kind of girl. I don’t know. She had spiky black hair and makeup that either made her look like she’d been up all night or was trying to hide the fact that she had. She wasn’t exactly my type and had nothing on Helen’s classic blonde beauty or her polished Yorkville style.

Still though, there was something undeniable about her. She carried herself like she didn’t give a shit about anything and didn’t care who knew it. All she had to do was drop the papers on my desk and walk out, but she turned it into a game just to make her job more fun. I don’t know anyone who would do that.

Everyone in my life is so professional. Old and buttoned up. Darcy screamed youth. Not in an immature way. I mean the I-don’t-give-a-fuck piss-and-vinegar that comes from thinking you’ve got the world by the balls just because you’re twenty-five and life hasn’t shit on you yet. I miss that feeling.

That night in bed, I put my arm around Helen.

“Not tonight,” she said.

“I just want to hold you.”

“We’ve been together for twenty years. You never just want to hold me.”

I rolled back over to my side of the bed and stared at the ceiling. I still couldn’t get Darcy out of my head. That’s probably why I wanted to fuck Helen, to help me forget about Darcy, but I couldn’t do either.

“We’re going to fight the lawsuit,” I said.

“What?”

“I’m tired of settling.”

Helen turned her bedside lamp on and sat up. “I thought we agreed. We can’t afford to throw money away like that for nothing.”

“It’s not for nothing. And we didn’t agree. You decided.”

“Is this because I don’t want to fuck?”

“No.” It wasn't. But maybe that was the last straw. “I’m just tired of settling.”

“Do you really want to waste all that money to prove a point?”

“No. I want to spend all that money to say fuck you. We’re not getting pushed around any more.”

Work felt different the next day. Everything did. Nothing dramatic happened. I didn’t walk in and pound my fists on my desk and start firing people. I just stopped being the pushover I’d become. Marcus came into my office before lunch to tell me that one of our suppliers needed another week to fulfill an order. That would breach the contract, and they’d owe us compensation. It didn’t really affect us, so normally I would have told him to let it slide.

“No,” I said. “Not this time. They gave us a date. We’re holding them to it. They deliver on time, or they pay the penalty.”

“For real?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just that I already told them it wouldn’t be a problem. We never make—”

“I’ll call them myself. But they’ll be on time, or they’re paying.”

“Sounds good, boss.”

And that was it. The world didn’t end. By three o’clock, I’d probably said no more times than I had all month. I wasn’t trying to prove anything to anyone, except maybe myself. What I’d said to Helen the night before felt like a revelation. I was tired of settling.

On my way home that night, I went by a cannabis shop. I hadn’t smoked pot since night school. But it suddenly felt like a good time to start again. I just wanted a couple of grams of regular weed, but they had over a hundred varieties with different names, and I had no idea what any of them meant. The guy behind the counter asked what I wanted it for.

“That’s a good question,” I said. “I guess, just something that says fuck it. I want to relax and stop worrying about everything.” He sold me a little container labelled “California Kush” and promised it was exactly what I was looking for.

“They call that the stress eraser.”

“Perfect.”

As I was leaving, I saw a photocopied flyer pinned to a community board. It was for a band, Notice to Appear. Darcy’s picture was front and centre. She was sticking out her tongue and giving the camera the finger.

“Hey, you know this band?” I asked the guy.

“Yeah. I don’t think they’re your speed, man.” He was practically laughing at me. I didn’t care.

“Who’s the girl?”

“Darcy Stray. I don’t think that’s her real name, but it’s what she goes by.”

“If you’re looking for some chill music, there’s a jam night…” I tuned him out. Notice to Appear were playing at a place called the Bovine the next night. I copied the address of the club into my phone. Queen and Bathurst. That made sense.

That night, Helen was glued to the TV watching some Real Housewives show. I knew that gave me an hour, so I slipped into the garage and sat in the car. I rolled a joint for the first time in twenty-five years. It came out perfect. Who knew rolling a joint was like riding a bicycle? I sparked it up and pulled out my phone. I needed to know more about Darcy Stray.

No Facebook or Twitter. She had an Instagram, but it was set to private. I couldn’t see anything without sending her a request, and I wasn’t going to do that. Too creepy. Not that I even had an account of my own.

I searched for her band next. There was more about them than there was about her. All their socials were public, but not terribly interesting. I found a few articles about them and an album review for their only record. Four out of five stars. They were a punk band with a lot of comparisons to the Distillers. I remembered that band from when I was her age.

The weed was starting to hit me. Kudos to the recommendation from the shop. California Kush had me feeling warm and fuzzy. Not even a hint of paranoia.

Notice to Appear had a few videos on YouTube. The band was okay. Darcy was a star. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Their album was on Spotify. They had eleven songs, but the whole record came in under thirty minutes. I pushed my seat back and put my earbuds in to give it a listen. I don’t know if it was the weed or something else, but a few songs in, I was starting to get it. The attitude I saw in my office was right there in the music. It was authentic. I went to Google Images and found a band picture. I zoomed in on Darcy and cropped the rest of them out.

I stared at her for a few minutes while I listened to her scream about the patriarchy. I don’t know what came over me, but I reached into my pants and started stroking myself. I’d been trying not to reduce her to that since she walked into my office, but the Kush took away whatever inhibitions were holding me back. I blamed the weed and tried not to think too hard about the fact that I was jerking off to a woman who screamed “fuck the male gaze” all through the last song.

I closed my eyes and imagined her in the seat next to me, leaning over and taking my cock in her mouth. She had nice lips. I remembered that from the office. I bet she gives great blowjobs. In my mind, she was giving me one and it felt incredible. Jerking off hadn’t felt that good in a long time. I was already getting close, but I had to fuck her first. She was on my lap now, riding my dick hard. I didn’t notice in person, but her band pictures showed how big her tits were. I imagined them in my face, bouncing up and down as she grinded my cock.

“You like that sweet pussy, Dean?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Then keep fucking it. That’s right. Keep fucking me, Dean. Dean… Dean… Dean…”

I opened my eyes. Helen was tapping on the side window.

“Dean!” she yelled.

Oh fuck.

“Are you watching porn and jerking off in the car?”

No. I’m not watching porn. I’m thinking about a woman who makes me feel alive, is what I didn’t say. I took my hand off my cock and rolled down the window.

“What the fuck are you doing out here?”

“Pretty obvious, isn’t it?” The weed was making it hard to keep a straight face.

She winced, stepped closer to the car and sniffed the air. “Are you smoking marijuana?”

“Christ, Helen. Marijuana? Really? Do you know how fucking old you sound?”

Her jaw dropped. Then she worked it from side to side, like she was choosing her next words carefully.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but it better be gone by tomorrow.”

“Does that mean finishing me off is out of the question?”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I already was.” I don’t know if she heard me. She’d already slammed the door shut.

The next morning, I had it all worked out. Over breakfast, I was going to tell Helen it was Bob’s retirement party. I don’t work with a Bob, but she didn’t pay that close of attention. The business was just an investment for her. Anyway, fictional Bob was going to be my excuse to go check out Darcy’s band. Helen beat me to the punch.

“You’re stressed and upset about the lawsuit, so I’m just going to pretend last night didn’t happen.” Then she did the thing she always did. She paused for a second, waiting for me to challenge her, knowing I wouldn’t. “I’m going to—”

“Last night wasn’t about stress.” She looked shocked. I never spoke back to her. “And I’m not upset about the lawsuit. We’re going to win it.”

“I thought we decided—”

“You keep saying that. We didn’t decide shit. You decided to let them have it. I decided to fight. It’s my business, Helen. I’m not writing them a cheque.”

Helen looked at me for a few seconds, like she’d just made up her mind about something.

“Well, that makes what I was about to say a lot easier.” She stood up and put her dishes in the sink. “I’m going to spend some time at my sister’s place. You can have the weekend.” Then came the warning. “But when I come back Sunday night, we’re going to have to figure some things out.”

“Sure. We’ll figure things out.” I wasn’t going back to the way I was, but she’d just cleared the way for me to see Darcy again, and that was all I needed for now.

I took an Uber to the club around 10:30 that night. I wasn’t really sure how I was going to play any of this. I knew I’d watch her band, then what? Slip out the back door? Pretend it was a coincidence and say hello? No clue. All that mattered was the excitement I felt knowing I was going to see her again.

There was a line outside the club when I got there. I waited in it for half an hour, but didn’t get any closer to the door. The whole time, regulars showed up and skipped the line. They just walked right in. I could hear a band playing inside. They had a guy singing, so it wasn’t Darcy’s band. When their set ended, though, I figured Notice to Appear would be up next. I had to do something to get in. I went up to the bouncer at the door.

“Hey, umm, I didn’t want to say anything because I wanted to wait my turn like everyone else.” He didn’t look at me. I had no idea if he was even listening. “But you know Darcy? From the band? I’m her uncle and—”

“Wait here.”

He stepped inside and I started to panic. I considered running, but the door opened just a few seconds later. Darcy was standing behind the bouncer. I thought I was about to be humiliated.

“Uncle Dean,” she said, smiling, knowing I was squirming. “You’re on the guest list. You didn’t have to wait in line.”

I didn’t know if she was fucking with me or playing along.

“Don’t just stand there. Come in. You can buy me that beer you promised.”

The look on her face told me she knew exactly how uncomfortable I was and how much she was loving it. I took a hesitant step forward, still not sure, then she grabbed my hand and practically pulled me into the club. That was the first time she touched me. I didn’t want to let go.

“That took some balls,” she said.

“I could have slipped him a bill, but where’s the fun in that?”

She knew exactly who I’d gotten that from. Her smile told me she appreciated it. It also told me this night might go a lot further than I’d planned.

“I wasn’t joking about the beer. Grab me a Labatt 50, then join me downstairs.”

I expected some kind of dressing room or something like that, but the basement was… just a pretty shitty basement, with low ceilings and a cracked concrete floor with water, or something, seeping through. There was no comfort at all, just a place where they stored shit and a line of kegs with hoses that fed the draft taps at the bar.

“This is the green room?”

“Nah. That’s upstairs, at the back. But they let me use this space so I can get ready in private.”

“That’s cool. I guess you need—”

“Why’d you come?”

I wasn’t sure what to say.

“It’s fine, but a guy like you didn’t wander into the Bovine on a Friday night by accident. And you somehow figured out my name.”

I suddenly realized what a bad idea all of this was. “I think I should go,” I said. I put my beer down on the only table in the room and made it to the stairs before Darcy said anything.

“Dean.” I heard a little quiver there. Darcy was always so brash when she spoke, but she’d just softened a little. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

“Why?” I still wasn’t facing her.

“I can’t do this shit forever. I’ve got a future to think about, but every time I walk into an office, everyone in them looks fucking dead. Like zombies. You were different. You laughed.”

“What?”

“When I served you. You laughed. Nobody fucking laughs.”

It never occurred to me that such a small gesture might have meant so much to her.

“That was because of you. I was becoming one of them. I felt it happening. You woke me up.”

“How?”

“I don’t know, but ten minutes in my office with you was all it took to make me regret everything I’d given up to get there.”

“Well, isn’t that fucking ironic. We both want what the other has.”

“Is that ironic or tragic?”

There was a loud knock against the door at the top of the stairs, like someone was kicking it.

“Darcy, you’re on now.”

She came over to where I was and climbed the first couple of steps until we were eye level.

“Thanks for coming, Dean.”

There were a few seconds there that felt like forever. I didn’t think things through or weigh the consequences. There weren’t any grand thoughts about the meaning of life. I just did what I knew had to happen. I kissed her. She didn’t pull away. She threw her arms around my neck, then jumped up and locked her legs around my waist. I had her pinned against the wall and made out with her in a way my wife and I hadn’t in years. Her hands went to my chest, and I grabbed her ass to hold her in place. I wanted to fuck her so badly.

There was another loud kick at the door. This time it opened. I set her down immediately. “We don’t have all fucking night, Darcy.”

“I’ve got to go,” she said. “Come watch the show.”

Notice to Appear were incredible. They tore up the stage and had the whole audience with them from the first note. They didn’t have many songs, and they played every one of them faster live than they did on the album. Their set was over in half an hour, but it was thirty minutes of pure fucking energy. I’d read the Distillers comparisons, but this was something more. They were closer to Raw Power-era Stooges, and Darcy was every bit as enthralling as Iggy Pop ever was.

When she stepped off the stage, Darcy was swarmed. The crowd just closed in around her, but she pushed her way through. She was coming right to me. I held up another Labatt 50 for her.

“Come with me,” she said, still breathing hard. I followed her to the door that led to the basement. A bouncer was standing in front of it. “Family time,” she panted. “With my uncle. Anyone comes down and I’ll cut their fucking balls off.” There was no waiting for confirmation. She blew past him too, and I was right behind her.

“Holy shit, Darcy. That was fucking amaz—”

Without warning, she jumped right back on top of me, picking up exactly where we’d left off before their set. There was almost no talking. Her tongue was back in my mouth, moving quickly, like she was still riding the adrenaline from performing.

“Dean,” she said between kisses. “I want you to fuck me. Please don’t say no.”

I carried her over to the table where my beer bottle was still sitting and planted her on top. She unzipped her leather jacket. There was nothing underneath. The tits I’d imagined the night before were suddenly right in front of me. I couldn’t help but stare.

“Like what you see?”

She was already working on my jeans. Once she got them open and tugged them down, my cock sprang out. I pulled Darcy off the table and turned her around. Her leather pants put up a fight, but eventually we got them down to her thighs. She was wearing a black thong. I pulled it aside and lined myself up behind her. She looked at me over her shoulder.

“Don’t do something you’ll regret,” she said.

As if I was going to stop at that point. “I’m done with regrets.” I slid my cock into her.

Darcy shoved herself back against me like she couldn’t get close enough. One of her hands hit the wall to brace her while the other went to her ass, pulling herself open for me.

“Fuck,” she gasped. “I’ve been thinking about this since I left your office.”

“Me too.” I grabbed her hips and fucked her harder.

I didn’t think about Helen once. I looked down at my hands on Darcy’s hips. My wedding ring didn’t even register. The only thing in my head was that I couldn’t believe any of this was happening. If someone asked me my wife’s name in that moment, I might not have been able to remember it. The truth was, I didn’t want to remember anything else. I wanted to stay right there and be in the moment. None of this was because Darcy was younger or prettier. She reminded me of who I used to be, before marriage and business took over everything and my life became a straight path. Darcy was freedom.

“Oh my God,” she said. “You’re actually fucking me, Dean.”

I grabbed one of her breasts and squeezed it. She pushed herself upright against me and turned her head enough that I could get my mouth against her neck.

“Harder. Fuck. Yes. Just like that.”

I went at her like that for a few minutes, then she twisted around in my arms. “Sit down.”

I sat against the edge of the table and Darcy backed herself onto me. Jesus Christ, it felt so good to be inside her. She kept adjusting herself, sliding down a little, then moving again to change the angle. She did it a few times until she found whatever she was looking for and let out a long moan.

“There. Fuck me right there.”

I grabbed her waist and started driving up into her while she pushed back against me.

“That’s it,” she said. “Don’t fucking slow down.” She reached behind her and started clawing at my sides. “Keep going. Keep fucking me. I’m going to cum.”

I didn’t last much longer after that. Neither did she. I felt a quiver in her legs and held her tight to stop her from hitting the floor. She kept grinding her ass against my thighs and I lost it. I was buried deep inside her when I started coming. Her hand went between her legs and rubbed her clit while I licked the side of her neck.

“Oh fuck,” she said. “Oh fuck.”

Her whole body started shaking after that. She leaned back into me with her back against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her stomach and held her close.

A few moments later, Darcy laughed. “There’s still life in you, old man. You’re not an office zombie yet.”

She peeled away from me and put herself back together. When I pulled my pants up, I noticed my wedding ring. It was tilted to the side, and I adjusted it with my thumb.

Darcy caught me looking at it. “I’m not going to go all psycho. You don’t have to worry about a boiled bunny in a pot.”

That wasn’t what I was worried about. What hit me was that I didn’t feel any guilt at all. If anything, I felt good. For the first time in a long time, I actually felt fucking good.

That feeling carried through the whole weekend. I spent most of Saturday smoking weed and listening to all my favourite bands from when I was younger. Maybe it was a midlife crisis. If it was, I didn’t care. I was just so tired of feeling nothing, and now everything felt new again.

I smoked the last of my weed Sunday night, right before Helen came home. She found me on the couch, wearing sweatpants, eating leftover pizza right from the box. PBS had a Fawlty Towers marathon going and I was laughing my ass off.

“Dean.” She said it louder the second time. “Dean!”

“Sorry.” I paused the TV. “How was your sister’s?”

“I talked to a lawyer.”

She was actually going to do something my way for once.

“Good. I know it will cost us, but it’s the right thing to do.”

“Not about the lawsuit,” she said, then dug through her purse. She tossed some papers on the cushion beside me.

I opened them up and started reading. “You want a divorce?”

“It’s been a long time coming.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? That’s it? Our marriage is done, and all you have to say is okay?”

“Yeah. Actually, no. I fucked a twenty-five-year-old Friday night.”