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The bartender places both drinks down in front of us on the polished wooden surface. “Here you go, Mister—”
“Thank you,” he interrupts suddenly, moving the drinks closer.
In the light of the room, I am caught off guard by the striking blue eyes looking at me with expectation. I am drawn to them and yet know that I could easily drown if I stare too long. I gaze back at the drinks.
“Which one do you want? The dirty one? Or the clean one?” he asks, wiping condensation from each glass.
“Very cryptic, aren’t we?”
I stare intently at the cocktails. Somehow this decision is more than just about a drink preference. My hand snakes toward the one without the olives, and I swear I can hear him snicker. I am tired of his games.
“Thought so,” he says, reaching for the other glass.
But I am too fast. I snatch the olive one in my other hand and leave him at the bar—drinkless and alone. I could use both. I move to the other room adjacent to the lobby and find a sofa. I place my drinks on the end table and text Claire to join me.
“What a night,” she sighs, plopping down next to me. She takes the clean martini out of my hand and finishes what is left. “That is pretty darn good.”
“Sure is,” I say, chewing the last olive off the toothpick.
“Never would have pegged you for a martini girl.”
I laugh. “Same. I guess tonight is about trying new things.”
“So, what do you think? Interested in coming into the office with me next week to find out more?”
“Maybe.”
“There’s a chance so you’re saying…” her voice trails off.
We both erupt in alcohol-induced giggles over the butcheredDumb and Dumberreference that we often recite.
“That’s not how it goes,” I laugh even harder. “You’re making it sound like a drunk Yoda.”
“You know what I meant.”
“My head feels fuzzy,” I admit.
Claire flags down a waiter holding an hors d’oeuvres tray of gouda-stuffed mushrooms and just hijacks the whole thing. The waiter’s deer-in-the-headlights expression makes us laugh harder. She tosses one up into the air and catches it with her open mouth.
“Nailed it!” she coos.
We snack on the food and people watch. When we get bored, we transition to snapping selfies, which causes a few guests to stop and stare. We have to be the only ones having this much fun. Claire’s volume is the least discreet out of the two of us. She is going to get us kicked out.
“So what’s up with all the blings?” I ask, touching her silver bracelet.
“Just makes it easier to spot us when we are out and about. You can choose to wear it off hours. But you must wear it during hours.”
“Why the variation in metals?”
“Ranks. Silver is starting rank, then gold, and then platinum. Incentives for racking up dates or money…whichever happens first.”
“And this is something you enjoy doing? Going on dates?”
Claire pops another mushroom into the air except this time it hits her nose and falls to the floor. We stare at the round ball as it rolls under the end table.
“I love it. You will too.” She holds up her finger to tell me to wait. She grabs a mushroom and slurps it into her mouth and chews. This has to be a cheat day for her. “It’s great money, and maybe surrounding yourself with a bunch of business people will help you with your paper you need to do for Dr. Williams’s class.”
Hmm…I never thought of that. Maybe Claire is right. Maybe having this type of exposure to this underground society of socialites will bring to light something worth investigating. Or maybe I will get to make connections with those tied to some media outlets; sometimes it is less about what you know, and more about who you know.
