“I’m sure I mentioned your name once or twice,” she admitted, not meeting my eyes.
Groaning, I dropped my forehead to her shoulder. “Oh God.”
Chris gave my ass a squeeze and stepped back. “Come on. We can’t be late or they’ll think we were having sex and that’s all we’ll hear about all night.”
April and Marlee were already in a booth when we got to the pub, a pitcher of beer and four glasses at the center of the table.
“Hope you like beer, Julia,” April said brightly.
I did, but I had the feeling that it was a test of some kind. Like I’d lose points if I said I wanted to order a wine spritzer instead.
“Beer is great,” I said, reaching out my hand. “Nice to see you again April. And let me apologize again about my mother that time you got dragged to dinner.”
She shook my hand and made a dismissive gesture with her other hand. “Oh gosh, don’t worry about it. Mine is just as bad.”
“Julia, this is my other bestie, Marlee. Marlee, this is Julia.”
Marlee and I shook hands, then Chris and I slid into the booth while April poured us beers. Within a few seconds the server came by with a basket of fries.
“You ready to order?” she asked.
“I think Julia might need to look at the menu,” Chris said. “Do you mind coming back in a few minutes?”
“No problem, hun.”
“Have you memorized the menu then?” I asked, noticing that no one had even opened theirs.
Chris nodded. “We’ve been coming here at least once a month for years.”
I liked the fact that the friends had a longstanding routine. I had friends, some of them good friends, but no one I would call a bestie. Certainly no one that I had a regular place with.
“What do you recommend?”
All three of them spoke in unison. “The bacon smashburger.”
“Okay then,” I laughed. “That’s what I’ll get.”
Even though dinner started off the tiniest bit awkward, overall it went well. There were a few awkward moments when one of the friends would reference some shared memory or a person they all knew, and they’d have to explain it to me, but no one made it weird. April and Marlee asked me questions about myself and my job at the shelter.
“I’ve been thinking about applying for a job at your non-profit,” April confided. “A recruiter contacted me a couple of times on Linked In about an accounting supervisor position you have open.”
“You do know that non-profit pay is terrible, right?” I asked, remembering my mother saying that April worked a prestigious firm. “I imagine you make a lot more than we’re going to pay.”
“Yeah, I do, but I don’t like my job. It pays well but the whole place is an old boys’ club,” April explained. “I’d like to do something with my skills to help people, not just to put more money in rich people’s pockets. My only hesitation is that with your CFO position open, I won’t get to interview with my potential boss ahead of time.”
“Maybe that’s for the best,” Marlee said. “You’ll already be there so whoever that new person is, they’ll be stuck with you.”
“Ha ha.”
“Tell me your favorite Chris story,” I asked after we’d finished our dinners.
We were working on our second pitcher of beer and while none of us was drunk, we were all definitely feeling relaxed.
Marlee and April shared a glance, their lips rolling in like they were trying to keep from laughing.
“No,” Chris said.
“What?” April’s face was the picture of innocence.
