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Monday night had finally arrived—when the girls and I had agreed to go to the bar together. It felt like it had been eons since we had all gone out, so despite my normal objections, and any intentions I had to stay home and study, I found myself at our old bar off-campus at six pm, surrounded by Gabbi, Charlotte, and Angelina. Wearing a tight black dress with tights underneath and knee-high boots might not have been the best call—it was honestly a little sparse for a cold January night in Portland, but thankfully it was warm in here. Plus, after a drink or two, I would be even warmer. And maybe some dancing would help, though I doubted I could drag anyone else out on the floor with me. Maybe Gabbi, if she didn’t find a guy—or girl—to flirt with at the bar.
I had been responsible and took an uber there, not wanting to risk driving home after drinking, especially considering that sometimes when the four of us got together in one room it got a little… crazy. And was it so bad that I wanted to let loose a little bit anyway? Between my hall director duties and classes, I was working on a myriad of projects. I had earned a little break. Plus, the distraction from Matthew Harper would be good for me. Absolutely. I had been thinking more and more about it—and him, and I was firmly convinced that the universe was just out to get me. Why else would it dangle a man so fine in front of me like a bunny with a carrot?
I was standing in front of the sign outside, staring at the newly painted sign that said Dusk, before wandering my way inside to find the girls standing at the bar, drinks already in hand. Gabbi pushed over a cider in my direction, knowing my tastes in alcohol, and I thanked her before taking a sip. It was sweet and tart, just like I liked it. The perks of a years-long friendship: they could order for you and know exactly what you wanted.
Angelina had already started her rant as I sat down. “Ugh. Today was awful. There’s this asshole at work who keeps pestering me over emails. I haven’t even met him in person, and I already hate him. It’s always Ms. Bradford this, Ms. Bradfordthat.Can’t he just use my first name instead of treating me so formally? Ugh. I hate him.”
Gabbi, Charlotte and I just looked at each other before laughing.
“What?” Angelina asked, crossing her arms over her chest. “He makes my life a living hell. And, again, I haven’t even met the dude. I think my anger is warranted.”
I shrugged. I wasn’t going to say anything about her annoyance with the man, but Charlotte, always the peacekeeper, said something instead. “You know, maybe he’s just addressing you formally because he respects you. That’s the way you should be treated in the office, you know.”
Angelina raised an eyebrow. “No. That’s not it. His emails are the opposite of respectful. He’s always talking down to me, discrediting my work, telling me what I do isn’t important—”
Gabbi frowned. “This is Benjamin we’re talking about, right? Benjamin Sullivan?”
“Yeah,” Angelina huffed. “It’s only getting worse, not better.” Gabbi shook her head, taking a sip of her beer. The rest of us followed suit, letting Angelina stew in her grumpiness for a moment.
“What exactly does he say in these emails?” I asked, wondering how this guy could get so easily under Angelina’s skin. She was always so confident, and I knew how hard she worked. She had been at the top of our class, always working her butt off in college, and that showed even now in her role at the tech firm she worked at.
Ang just bit her lip. “Oh, the usual. You forgot a comma in this report, or that sentence stops abruptly or—”
“Maybe he’s just trying to help,” Gabbi suggested.
“Help?!” Angelina threw her hands up in the air. “You think this arrogant man wants to help me?”
“Or he likes you,” I smirked.
“No way in hell. He hates me. And I absolutely hate him.”
“Okay,” I sang, but I shared a small, secret smile with Gabbi. It seemed like Angelina was so worked up over this man she hadn’t even met, and I couldn’t help but wonder why.
“Well, come on!” Angelina said, raising her voice so we could hear her among the noise of the bar. “We should let loose a little. Let’s get some shots.” And then she was waving over the bartender, ordering before we could stop her, and once the tray of tequila shots was placed in front of us, she passed them out to each of us. Was she just trying to get drunk to forget about her problems? Maybe, but for once I was sort of okay with that. I didn’t want to think about my life or all of the things I had to figure out at this moment either.
I downed the first shot, and then we ordered another, the buzz finally sinking into my system as I finished the second one.
Charlotte and I were chatting, rambling on about some book we had read, Charlotte bemoaning the fact that she was alone and single and was never going to find anyone—much to the rest of our amusements because we were all single and twenty-five and probably weren’t where we thought we would be in our lives at this point either. Well, except for maybe Angelina, who had managed to be a fairly high-up marketing manager for the firm she worked at. And Gabbi, who had recently got promoted to the manager of HR at the same firm.
“At least fictional men don’t let you down,” Charlotte complained. “I went on this date last week, and this guy was so nice.”
“He was nice, and you’re complaining?” I raised an eyebrow. We were a little tipsy, and sometimes Char liked to complain even more when we were. I didn’t care though—I was happy to sit and listen to her.
“Yeah. Aren’t you paying attention to me?” She frowned. “He was so nice it was boring. I swear, he hardly had anything to say. We spent most of the evening talking about me.” Charlotte moaned.
“But…” Angelina popped in. “Don’t you love talking about yourself?”
“Yes!” Charlotte groaned, burying her head into the crook of her elbow on the bar. “That’s what was so boring,” she said, a little muffled into the wood surface.
We laughed. “There, there, Char,” I said. “It was just one date. There will be others. You’ll find the right person eventually, I promise.” I patted the back of her head soothingly before turning back to the bartender.
“Another round, please,” I asked the bartender with a smile, before nudging Gabbi with my shoulder. “So, Gabbi, how was your day?”
She shook her head. “I dealt with a bunch of idiots all day.” I didn’t miss the look she shot Angelina. “But other than that… it was fine, I guess.”
“You guess?” I frowned. “What about that girl you had a date with last weekend?”
