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I push her feet down and take the seat next to her. “Courtney, I’ve been serving greasy cheeseburgers and beer. I know nothing about law stuff.”
She chuckles at my comment. “You don’t really need experience, and Paulette will teach you everything you need to know before she leaves.”
“I don’t know. Is your dad really gonna go for this?” I’ve never met her parents. They were at our graduation back in May, but there were so many people there, Court didn’t get to introduce us. She never talks about her mom. I know they’re still together, but that’s the extent of my knowledge of Mr. and Mrs. Kincaid. She talks to her dad often, and I know they occasionally meet for lunch, but now that I think about it, I don’t recall one time she’s talked about seeing her mom.
She holds her phone up, flashing a text thread at me. Not that I could read it if I wanted to since she’s waving it in my face like a lunatic.
She sets the phone down on the table. “Be there Tuesday at eleven. He’ll interview you.” She does air quotes when she says interview, and that makes me uneasy.
“I refuse to get a job only because I’m your friend.”
Shit. I don’t even have clothes to wear to an interview. My wardrobe consists of yoga pants, a few ratty old tees, and my faded apron from McGuire’s, which is completely useless to me now.
“Stop. Sure, he’s doing us both a favor, but I promise he won’t hire you if he doesn’t think you can do the job.”
I feel only somewhat better about this. But the harsh truth is, I’ll be forced to leave Boston if I don’t find something fast.
“Okay,” I sigh. “This is not how I hoped my Friday would go.”
She stands from the table and grabs both my hands. “Come on. Up.” She pulls me to my feet, and I groan.
“What?” I whine. I have a feeling she’s going to make me do something I don’t like, and all I want to do is lie on the couch and sulk while I watch a sappy Hallmark movie.
“TJ wants to go out tonight, and he’s bringing some friends.” She waggles her eyebrows at me, and I groan again.
“I am not hooking up with one of TJ’s friends, Courtney.” She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout. “Don’t even try. Last time was a total shitshow, and you know it.”
Shitshow is the understatement of the year. The guy was freaking handsy all night, and not in a good way. No, this guy had a laundry list of red flags. I swore I’d never let them try to hook me up with anyone else. That was two years ago, and I haven’t caved yet. No matter how relentless they’ve both been.
Her shoulders sag. “Okay, promise. But please come with us. You could use a drink, and we haven’t been dancing in ages.”
I wave an arm toward my glass on the counter.
“Something stronger than wine, you lamo.”
Knowing I’m not going to win this one, I head to my room and quickly find something clean to change into. I settle on a pair of form-fitting jeans and a red sequined halter shirt Court got me for my birthday last year. I don’t have many clothes to go out in, so this will have to do.
Forty-five minutes later, we walk into The Jive. I’ve been here a handful of times with Courtney, but if it weren’t for her, I’d never step foot in a place like this. It’s a high-class bar that doesn’t really fit in with the rest of downtown Boston. Everything on the menu is expensive, so I rarely get more than one drink. Her dad’s best friend owns the bar, so I’m surprised she likes coming here so much. Although, I have a feeling he hooks her up with drinks, and also cuts her off when she’s reached her limit. Again, I’m surprised she likes coming here so much. She’s never been one for following rules. In fact, she’s the queen of bending them.
The loud as hell music blares through the speakers while a strobe light spins around the open space, making me dizzy. They went for some 1990’s vibes, which makes the bar unique to anything else in Boston.
We find an empty booth at the back of the building. I sit down and watch as people dance and throw back drinks like they don’t have a care in the world. Must be nice. But tonight, I just want to pretend like I’m not about to be homeless. I’m going to pretend like I didn’t just get fired for accidentally spilling a drink on a customer. Okay, so it was hot coffee, but semantics. In the three years I worked there, I was the associate of the month eight times. I mean, there weren’t many of us working there, but that’s beside the point.
Courtney’s boyfriend, TJ, joins us, and they are instantly wrapped up in each other, making out like teenagers.
I stand and make my way toward the bar. After the shit day I had, I deserve an expensive drink.
“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The older woman behind the counter asks, her voice raspy.
I stare at the menu above her head, contemplating how much I actually want to spend tonight. I’m more of a wine girl, so I really don’t know what to order that is fancy, so I settle for a vodka spritz. It’ll do the job, and if I have to, I’ll get a second.
I finish my drink and then make my way out to the dance floor, where Courtney is dancing by herself. Whenever we go out, it’s rare that TJ isn’t sticking his tongue down her throat so I take advantage of having my best friend to myself. We spend the next hour shaking our hips, getting lost in the music, and I momentarily forget about the mess my life is right now.
I turn around to say something to Court, and she’s once again making out with her boyfriend. I groan and make my way back to the bar. I could use another drink after all that dancing.
This time, I order a martini, then turn when I hear the stool next to me screech across the floor.
“You…” I start, but I can’t bring myself to say anything else to the sexy asshole. And sexy is putting it lightly. The man is freaking sex on legs. He looks twice my age, but he’s fucking delicious. Too bad his personality doesn’t match his looks.
