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The interior of the bar at 8PM on a Friday night was as loud and fantastic as to be expected, especially at a local beach bar in a small town known for chill people and delicious foods and beverages.
The place was nearing capacity, and there were still people stumbling in after battling their workweeks.
Taking a seat at an empty booth in the back that Sally had no doubt Anna had called in work favors for, Sally tossed her purse in the seat and leaned her elbows on the clean reclaimed driftwood table.
“Ugh, I needed this,” Anna groaned as she slipped into the booth seat opposite Sally. Slumping, she smacked her palms against the table and pouted at Sally. “Why haven’t we done this sooner? I miss you, Mamacita.”
“I miss you, too, Anna-boo.” Guilt slammed into Sally. She could use the excuse that she’d been busy with work because it was true, but she also could have made time to spend with Anna. If she hadn’t been avoiding her best friend like she was contagious.
Because her love life is swell, and it makes you jealous. God, she was a shit friend. She also really wanted what her friend had. Love.
So, rather than admit anything and feel even shittier, she turned ostrich and shoved her head into the sand.
“How’s the epic love story going?” Sally asked as she glanced at the dopey grin on her best friend’s face.
Ever since she’d finally gotten her man, Blaze, her once best friend and now bed buddy, Anna had been smiling like a lovesick loon. And Sally couldn’t be happier for her. Or more jealous.
Anna practically purred, “God. So, so, so, so gooooood.”
Cringing, Sally faked a gag. “I don’t need details, thanks, but I am glad to hear you’re finally living out all those nasty, filthy daydreams I know you were having about Blaze.”
Giggling, Anna’s face turned bright pink. “How did you know I was daydreaming about Blaze?”
Sally grinned lopsidedly. “Because you would always get this look on your face like—” She did her best imitation of a five-year-old trying to do trigonometry— “then your face would turn this flamingo color, and your breath would hitch. You had it bad, Anna-bae.”
Heaving a dramatic sigh, Anna replied, “Ugh. Everyone knew I was crushing on him hard—except him, the blind ass.”
Sally nodded, grinning. “At least he finally sees what everyone else saw; you are love material.”
“Aww, Sally!” Anna mewled, clasping her hands over her chest. “You’re turning into such a softy.”
Sally snorted, then rolled her eyes. “Not even a little bit. I’m just glad that my best friend finally got her happily ever after.”
Something in her voice, and expression, and body must have revealed something best hidden because Anna tipped her head, and her face softened.
“You’ll get yours, Sally. I know it.”
A familiar pang pricked her heart at Anna’s words and her confidence that she was right. But Anna wasn’t right because Sally would never have a HEA, not when her heart was still hung up on someone so unworthy of it.
Forcing a smile to her face, she decided it was time to change the subject. “Who else is coming to this shindig?”
“Maeve,” Anna answered, picking up the drinks menu as if she needed to look. Once they’d hit 21 years old, Anna and Sally had turned Happy Jack’s into their regular hang out, and since Anna worked there in the afternoons, she and Sally both knew every single boozy beverage the bar concocted. And over five years, they’d tried them all, some to the point of momentary blindness and Bell’s Palsy.
Never mix bottom shelf, rotgut vodka with White Claw. Lesson learned.
“I met her at that party you ditched…” Anna intoned, her eyes sparkling and her lips quirking.
Sally sighed, rolling her eyes. “I had a good reason to ditch that party—”
“Don’t you dare say you were sick, woman!” Anna glowered, pointing a finger across the table in Sally’s surprised face. Hell, apparently, finally getting the D made Anna a fiercer version of herself. “You were just fine the next morning when you called me, begging me to stop by your office with coffees and carbs.”
Grunting, Sally slapped the table, stinging her palm. “If I told you why I really ditched the party, we’ll be here all night with me getting more and more drunkerer, and you getting more and more loud and louderer. Poor Maeve will never want to come to the bar with us again.”
“Oh?” a voice said from beside Sally, making Sally turn to look up at the angelic face of a woman dressed more for a church service than a Friday night bar meet-up. Her boxy, beige pantsuit was too oversized for her petite yet curvy frame as if she were hiding behind layers of polyester and quiet shame.
If you’ve got it, flaunt it!That had always been Sally’s motto. At least after the Maison. Before then, her motto had been: Quiet and unseen, or the beast will find me.
Shuddering inwardly at the phantom, haunting thought, Sally grit her teeth and waved over a waitress who looked like she would get to them in about an hour thanks to the thirsty crowd.
