“I don’t think it’s the best idea,” I say instead.
“Why?” Amanda’s eyes grow wide. “Did you sleep together?”
This time I choke on my own spit. “No, of course not.”
She then narrows her eyes at me. “Something happened. Text her or I will.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. I would rather be the one to contact her over anyone else.
“Good, I’m sick of being the only woman you two hang out with.” I let the comment slide as I scroll to find her contact.
Dalton:Amanda, Dustin and I are at Smoozeys on Broadway. What are the odds you want to stop by?
Raleigh:What’s the occasion? Are we drinking to celebrate or to drown our sorrows?
Dalton:That’s up to you. My brother is leaving for another tour and since I am as well we wanted to hang out with Amanda one more time.
Dalton:For the record, Amanda was the one who asked for you. I’m still trying to respect our distance.
I think it might be a mistake to get that honest with her. Of course I’m trying to respect our space, but at this earliest convenience, I threw all caution to the wind. Raleigh doesn’t miss a beat.
Raleigh:For the record, Amanda is awesome and I’m kind of sick of distance. My apartment is empty and sad.
Raleigh:Even more sad when I get to read 2,000 comments about how my client is ruining country music and 2,000 more about her sexuality and relationships.
Dalton:Don’t be alone tonight. We want you here.
I have the text typed out, ready to send but she beats me to it.
Raleigh:I’ll be by shortly. Save me a seat and a tall one.
Raleigh:Full disclosure, I will still be sorting through social content as it comes.
Dalton:Saved the best seat in the house just for you.
The conversation ends, but not too long after, Raleigh waltzes through the door like she owns the place. Her building is only two blocks down so her quick appearance is expected. She must have been very ready to get out of her empty apartment.
Amanda leaps onto her two feet in the booth and waves, much to the chagrin of the nearest bartender. Throwing her purse into the seat next to me, Raleigh flops down and grabs one of the drinks meant for me. “I’m working so I won’t be the most fun but I appreciate the invitation.” She downs the whole thing and then turns immediately to her phone.
The conversation at the table turns to current events and the next movie Amanda wants to go see before we’re interrupted.
“Are you Raleigh Davis?” a young woman asks, phone already recording. I notice the pair are wearing Mae merch—clearly die hard fans. I’m thankful they haven’t recognized me because I would have no idea how to handle it.
Raleigh, ever the professional, knows exactly what to do. A bright smile replaces her frown, and she places her phone screen down on the table. “I am.”
“Gah, we just knew it!” the other woman squeals, leaping forward with her hand outstretched. “When are you going to post the engagement photos?”
“We’re just dying to know!”
“Soon,” Raleigh manages to say. The idea of an engagement photoshoot has been a hot topic plaguing the couple since the proposal. Mae keeps pushing and Trenton keeps deflecting. It’s just one more instance of Trenton taking no further steps toward marriage all the while flaunting off her hand at every presser. The girls all move to take a quick selfie, but when the picture has been taken, the girls remain, giddy smiles on their faces.
Raleigh reaches for her purse, as if she has an immediate solution to this awkward pause in the interaction. “Do you ladies have tickets to—”
“No, we spent hours trying to get them and failed.” The taller girl makes a pouty face but immediately reanimates when Raleigh pulls out a card with a number on it.
“Reach out to this number and tell them Raleigh sent you. I’ll let them know to expect your call.”
“Thank you so much!” Both girls exclaim at once. This time they’ve gotten enough, turning away and heading back to the bar to their group of friends.
