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“I know,” she said. He had only mentioned it about a hundred times in the past hour.

“Right, ha ha,” he said. “Did I tell you about this supervisor …”

He continued on, and she wanted to cry. What a condescending asshole.

The moment he finished yet another story about his work, she took the opportunity to speak up. “Hey, it’s getting late,” she said, trying to keep her tone sweet. “I’m sure you’ve had a super busy week and want to rest, so I’ll let you go.”

“Yeah, I definitely have,” he said. “But it’s okay! We can hang out a little.”

She dropped the kind expression. “Um. No,” she said, tone flat.

He blinked, taken aback. “Oh. Okay.”

She waved Mateo over to bring the bill, and when he did, Tyler swiped it to his side, putting down his card before sliding the bill back to her.

Typical. She put down her card as well; they paid, and she released a long sigh.

“Hope you have a good night,” she said.

“Yeah, you, too,” he said, leaving.

She deflated. A little while later, Mateo came over.

“So that didn’t go so well …” he said.

She rested her head on her arms, looking up at him with a pout.

“No,” she said, voice miserable. Mateo sat down across from her.

“Would some pictures of Esme help?” he asked, pulling out his phone.

“Always.” She sat up, and he slid his phone over, showing her a video of Esme crawling and giggling. Lucy felt a bit better after that, but still not 100 percent.

She had worn her best jeans for this, for god’s sake! And she wasn’t even going to get any dick for it. Unfuckingbelievable.

“Can you bring me some hot chocolate?” she asked, unbuttoning her jeans.

“Course. A Lucy Special, coming up.”

The Lucy Special had double the amount of chocolate, with extra cayenne powder and cinnamon, and when he brought it over a little while later, it helped soothe the hurt off the night. She drank it slowly as Mateo tended to the other customers, wallowing on her own.

Until the door opened and Grayson walked in.

His eyes met hers and he immediately scowled.

“Where’s your date?” he asked, coming to stand behind the chair across from her. His fingers gripped the chair tight.

For a second, Lucy considered pretending, just to make Grayson jealous again, but she was too miserable to be up to any mischief.

“He left,” she said, voice quiet. Grayson blinked, the irritation leaving his expression. He opened his mouth to say something, but Lucy held up a hand. “If you’re going to be an asshole about this, please don’t. I’m exhausted.”

He released a breath. “I’m exhausted, too,” he admitted. “Can I sit?”

“Are you going to be nice?” she asked.

“Are you?”

She considered it, then nodded.