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“I have nothing to say. Lemme go.”
He lets go of me. “I’ll see you at home. We’re talking!”
He walks toward his motorcycle.
I turn and go back inside, not looking back.
I find Ally and Meryl in a huddle off to the side. Their eyes go wide.
“I’m gonna wait for a cab. I need a drink. And then I need to sleep on your couch when we go. Can I do that?” I ask.
They both nod.
“Fort Knox is closed up tight,” I say to Ally with my hand up. If you’re gonna be my bestie you’re gonna need to respect that sometimes I’m going to call for processing time. So… processing time. Okay?”
“How much processing time?” she asks, chewing her lip, looking dismayed.
“Twelve hours this time.”
She nods. “You got ‘till pancakes tomorrow morning. I make amazing banana chocolate chip pancakes.”
“Deal. Who won round three?” I accept the glass of wine she’s passing me.
Ally smiles big. “It got down to Austin and Meryl again. He won this time, but he hugged her, telling her ‘Good job’ and she looked like she was at a Beatles concert, circa 1960-something. She almost fainted.”
“Did not!” Meryl shoves her. Meryl has a glass of wine in her hand. And her eyes are glassy!
“Meryl’s drinking!” I say, shocked.
She laughs.
“She needed a drink after being in Austin’s arms,” Ally says softly and fans herself.
Meryl giggles and slaps Ally’s arm. “This is my first and only.”
“Only one tonight. We’re breakin’ you in. Tomorrow night’ll be a different story.”
Clubbing tomorrow night. Do I even want anything to do with that? I sip my wine.
Wait. So, he tried to fuck me over at work. He failed.
And then he tried to pay me with a $100 gift card to say sorry without actually saying sorry. And then he kissed me.
He kissed me!
And I kissed him back. Oh, and I might’ve grinded against him like a dirty ho.
I take a big sip of my wine. A big one.
I’ve had a rough first week at my new job, but I need to celebrate. I’m about to have enough money going in my account to pay off the debt my sister stuck me with. I have a CEO who thinks I’m worth a bonus (okay, so everyone got one, but still!) and I’m going to a marketing tradeshow next week in the Big Apple. I’ve lived in New York state my whole life and have only been to NYC twice. Once, passing through, another time, for a school trip. And this conference is a big deal for my industry.
I deserve good things. Fun things.
I need to kick back, dance, and be Carly 2.0, the non-doormat, the stronger person who doesn’t let people screw her over.
Do I want to go clubbing tomorrow night?
Yes. Yes, I fucking do. New Carly deserves some fun.
