AllFreeNovel
Share Us
1
CHLOE
Will I go deaf if I stab a cocktail pick in my ear?
Staring down at the bamboo stick spearing the green olives in my glass, I ponder doing it. Would it cause immediate deafness? Would I have to pull it out and then gouge it into the other ear so I can’t hear on either side?
“What I’m trying to say is, it’s actually a really big deal. One more step closer to the White House, if you know what I mean, babe.”
I twist the pick in my fingers, seriously considering my options. The pain would surely be worth it. Would he notice the blood gushing from my ears? Or would he continue to drone on about himself like he’s been doing since the moment he picked me up?
His eyes trail over the backside of a woman in a tight red dress. I arch an eyebrow and tilt my head to the side.
“I think I know her,” he says with a cocky smile that makes me want to gouge my eyes out too.
How could he possibly recognize her when the only part of her body he saw was her ass? I gag internally.
What the hell was I thinking about agreeing to this date? Why do I continue to let myself be put in these positions? And why in God’s name did I go along with letting this asshole pick me up from my house instead of meeting him here at the restaurant? Now I’m stranded with him unless I slip out and order a car service.
Awesome, Chloe. Really brilliant. You’re the star of intelligent choices once again.
“Babe, you’re not drinking your martini.”
I roll my lips in, biting down to keep myself from responding in a less-than-ladylike way. However, I swear, if he calls me babe one more time, I’m going to snap. I’ll make those true crime shows look like child’s play.
My entire body was prickling with annoyance by the time we got here. Almost like bugs were crawling over me. All I wanted to do was go back home and scrub myself clean. When he picked me up, instead of coming to the door, he texted me from his car to tell me he was there. Then, the entire ride here, he talked non-stop about himself. And not a little bit. No. He went on and on and on. My neck still aches from how stiffly I kept nodding to make it seem like I was interested in even a single word he had to say. Surprise! I didn’t give a shit about any of it.
Then we get to this place, and it’s nice. Very nice. Dim lighting, candles on every table, and the staff are all dressed in crisp, black button-down shirts and black pants with clean white aprons. There’s a shiny grand piano on one side of the bar, and the man sitting on the bench is playing a beautiful melody that he’s completely lost in. We haven’t ordered any food, but the smell of sizzling steak and garlic would have my mouth watering like a hungry puppy if I had any sort of appetite. Another shocker, the second he started talking, I lost it. I’d love to visit this place again. Without this douche canoe, of course.
After we found a table, he said he would go order our drinks from the bar. He asked me what I wanted. I’d already had a glass of white wine at home while getting ready, so I asked for a glass of Chardonnay. Mixing alcohol has never worked in my favor. And now, here I am, staring at the martini he was sure I’d enjoy more than wine. His words, not mine. Idiot. If I wanted a martini, I would have asked for one. He was probably too busy talking to himself about himself to hear my order.
“So anyway, there was this guy at the fundraiser, and we talked all night.”
Meaning, he talked all night while the guy at the fundraiser probably wanted to put a bullet in his own head. I look around the place, enjoying watching the other couples who are obviously having a much better time than I am. Glasses clink, laughter fills the space, and people converse with one another. Women are dressed to the nines, and the men are in suits or slacks with dress shirts. I feel a twinge of envy as I watch a group of women laugh about something one of them said. Can I insert myself into their group and forget I ever met Bradley Du Pont? God, even his name is annoying.
Unable to take it for another moment, I push my chair back and stand. He looks at me in surprise as he pauses mid-sentence.
I smile and clear my throat. “I need to use the ladies’ room. I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, right. No problem, babe. I’ll get you a wine since you don’t seem to like the top-shelf martini I got you.”
Pompous asshole.
Several deep breaths later, I nod. I want to tell him I’ll be leaving shortly after I get back from the restroom, so there’s no need to get me another drink. But the few minutes I’ll have to wait between the time I get back and the time I can run out of this establishment will be torture, so downing a glass of wine during that time sounds perfect.
Without another word, I make my way through the bar. As soon as I’m locked in a bathroom stall, I dig out my phone to call my best friend and roommate, Paisley.
“Hey, girl! Are you having fun?”
“I’m two seconds away from committing a murder, so I need you to get me out of here. Call me with an emergency.”
Without missing a beat, she says, “Okay. Do you need me to cry? Or scream? How urgent does your escape need to be?”
“Fucking urgent.”
“Got it. I’ll be super dramatic. Tears and screaming. How long until you need me to call?”
“Ten minutes. Not a minute more or I’ll kill you.”
