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Ivy
Iheadedoverto Brooklyn to catch up with Sara for a night out. We met at our regular bar, which was just up the road from Booky Nooky.
“This is almost like old times,” she said, lounging back on the retro chairs that might have belonged in someone’s kitchen in the sixties.
“It’s been a while. I can see that color clashing’s still the rage.”
She laughed at my observation of local fashion statements.
“So, how’s the new guy? What’s his name again?” she asked.
“Jack.” I sighed.
A line formed between her brows. “Why do I get the feeling you’re not into it?”
I picked at my nails. “He’s kind of boring. And in bed, really dull.”
“Have you slept together?” she asked.
“Nearly.”
“He couldn’t get it up?” She grimaced.
“We didn’t get that far. He fell asleep. He was drunk. And I’m kinda glad we didn’t.”
“You’re still stuck on Chase, aren’t you?”
I nodded sheepishly while toying with my glass. “I hate him, though. I mean, who’d want to marry someone who only proposed for the sake of money?”
“The world’s filled with those marriages.”
“But this is the twenty-first century. We can choose to marry for love.”
“It’s still not so black-and-white, Ives.”
“You did.”
“I’m one of the lucky ones.” She smiled tightly.
“Well, I’m young enough to wait for true love.”
“Chase is gutted. And I feel so fucking bad about it. Like it was my fault. He still hasn’t forgiven me.”
“Really? He’s giving you the cold shoulder?” I asked.
“Maybe a little. But look, he’s really low. I’ve never seen him look so dejected.”
That warmed my spirit, selfish as it was, knowing we shared depression in common. We shared a lot in common.
And it wasn’t just great sex.
“Are you going to end it with Jack?”
“God, yeah. But I’ll keep it going for now.” I pulled a mock smile. “Jack’s also roped Mitch into some project.”
“I thought you were moving?” she asked.
“Mitch is traveling a lot more, so I can cook meat and be messy.”
