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“Didn’t Kim K. name her kid Chicago? Doesn’t that make naming your kids after cities all hip and happening?” I offer Gil.
“Didn’t she also name one of her kids Psalm?” O questions as he opens the pizza boxes. “Maybe she shouldn’t be your benchmark in good kid names?”
I cringe. I forgot about that.
“Point taken,” I answer. While I look Gil in the eye, I add: “You’re totally screwed in the name department. Good thing you’re easy on the eyes.”
Both guys laugh out loud. O looks at the pizza options and slides one of the boxes in front of him and takes out a slice . He starts eating it with his hands and I’m glad to see he’s not a crazy person who eats pizza with a fork and knife. The pristine state of the kitchen left the possibility open for that to happen.
“So, you’re a writer?” Gil starts.
“Yeah, I’ve got a deadline for my fourth book in a couple of months. This chapter has to be at the editor by the end of the week. She’s really mean when I don’t reach my deadlines, so I owe you big time.”
“I like the thought of that,” Gil smirks while he devours his pizza. Looking at the slice of pizza in my hand, I’m wondering if I should actually eat it, seeing as my stomach’s still full from the Mac ‘n Cheese I literally just ate. As I take a big bite, it turns out I don’t care.
“So, what do you do for a living?”
O gives Gil a look while mister tall, dark and handsome almost chokes on a bite.
“I manage a nightlife establishment in Kinseltown.”
“You own said establishment,” O corrects him.
“That’s so cool!” I yelp. “Something that’s all yours.”
His eyes darken a little and he doesn’t comment on what I say. “It’s kind of a specific scene though. It has to be your thing. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea.” He doesn’t elaborate on that comment and since I don’t really understand what he means with it, I don’t ask more.
“Jonah’s the one who owns one of the biggest nightclubs in the county,” O says. “Tempest is more mainstream.”
“Jonah owns Tempest?”
I’ve heard about Tempest before. It’s the place to be in this county. Classy but still a guarantee for a good time. And from what I’ve heard about it, it’s a safe place as well. No creeps allowed and the crew of Tempest takes good care of the people who are there to party.
“Jonah made a living off partying. It’s one of the smartest ideas he’s ever had, he really has a knack for it. It’s kind of what they recommend right? Find something you love doing, so you’ll never feel like you have to work.”
I can absolutely agree with that. Writing does that for me. Well, maybe not so much when I lose my work. I find myself nodding to the men, who are both staring at me.
“Did you find something you love doing, O?”
He shrugs. “I’m a realtor. I’m good at what I do, and I make a good living. That’s worth something right?”
While I want to agree with him, it also sounds like he doesn't exactly do what he’s passionate about. But after seeing Meggy that morning working the cash register and being perfectly content, I feel like I’m in no place to judge.
Gil looks me straight in the eye and suddenly my temperature rises, even if I can’t pinpoint exactly why that’s happening. He has this really intense stare that looks right into my grey matter.
“I’ve figured out how you can pay me back for saving your chapter,” he says, biting down on another slice of pizza before he continues talking with a full mouth. “Come have drinks with us.”
“What?! Looking like this?” I yell out, looking down at my blanket burrito and my bare feet. My body temperature rises even more and my heart starts thumping loudly in my chest, showing all the signs of me starting to panic.
“Not now, Morgan,” Gil answers while looking at me with a crooked smirk. “Come with us when you’ve had your deadline. We’ll go to Tempest, have drinks, have a good time. Welcome you home properly.”
My cheeks flush again. Not sure what it is with those bastards today, but they’re lighting up like flashing Christmas lights.
“That is a gazillion times more logical than right now.”
“But you’ll come?” O asks while he does his best not to look at me.
Why does he suddenly not want to look at me? Is he appalled by my attire? Did I eat too much of his pizza and is he hangry now? I shake the thought and let my mind wander to the real question. Do I want to go out to a very hip nightclub with a friend I haven’t considered a friend in years and someone I just met but sort of owe a favor? Maybe. I like to party every now and then. As long as I can act as a hermit for some time after socializing. But it’ll be good for me to go out while being back and seeing for myself what all the fuss is about. It won’t be so bad to make some friends now that I’m back home for the foreseeable future.
“Sure,” I agree, “we’ll go to Tempest on Friday after my deadline, and my debt of you fixing my chapter will be paid.”
Gil somehow looks victorious. Then he leans forward and growls in my ear: “Please don’t wear a blanket on Friday.”
I can’t help but burst out in laughter.
