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We make our way to the front door and inside the foyer, I say, “Good luck.”
“Thanks. Hope you win millions.”
I snort. “Me too.”
He strolls toward the bar and I make my way to the Wheel-of-Fortune slot machines. I take a chunk of change from my wallet and sit down before texting Autumn to let her know I’m here.
Here. Just gonna play the slots for a little. What’s happening?
They’re drinking and talking. Not much, to be honest.
Maybe that means they’ll be done soon.
Well, Mr. King left a few minutes ago.
I glance around but don’t see him anywhere. Maybe he had private business to attend to, but I also wonder if that means Vicente will join him soon.
Settling into my seat, I continue to drop coins into the slot, hoping to make a little money with each pull of the lever.
Ten minutes go by and I start feeling like a psycho stalker. Why am I even here? Because Vicente is? Because I know he’s with a woman and I want to, what? Compare myself to her? I’m obviously torturing myself, because even if he saw me, who’s to say he’d stop and talk to me? Do I think he’d actually answer my questions? Or am I just hoping that a glimpse of me will have him changing his mind? Why would I even want a man who used me?
I swear to god, why do the red flag men know how to fuck? Instead of seeing the red flags for what they are— a warning, something telling you to stop and save yourself, we see them as beacons drawing us in.
As I’m thinking of texting Autumn to tell her I’m leaving and officially letting it go, someone comes and sits next to me.
“Which app do you think is best, because I’m pretty sure I was just stood up.”
It’s Fred. “Oh no,” I say with pity. “Maybe she’s just running late.”
He nods once, his mouth set in a firm line. “Maybe, but I didn't want to sit alone at the bar like a loser. Figured I’d hang around here and see if she shows up. She’s supposed to have red hair and be wearing cat eye glasses.”
“We can keep an eye out,” I say. “Wanna try to win money with me?”
He chuckles. “Sure. Let me grab some change.”
Once he comes back, we sit there wasting our change on these machines, but we talk and get to know each other a little. He’s got dry humor that makes me laugh simply because of his delivery. He’s not as boring as I assumed he’d be, which makes me feel bad for judging him so quickly.
Another ten minutes of losing at Wheel-of-Fortune, we decide to try different slots two rows away, giving us a better view of the bar. When I run out of coins, I turn to face him and we just talk.
“Well, safe to say I’ve been stood up,” he states. “It’s too bad, because I was hoping to be laying down with someone besides myself tonight.” I snort and he looks at me. “Sorry. Bad joke. I’m not that much of a presumptuous asshole, but Iama man.” He cracks a grin.
I laugh, and as I’m doing so, I recognize a man walking past us. My loud laughter catches his attention, but he does a double-take, allowing me to notice he’s one of the guys I’ve seen with Vicente. He pauses briefly before turning around and going back into the ballroom. Shit.
“Wanna go to the bar?” I ask Fred, no longer wanting to be right outside the door.
“Sure.”
When we get there, I go up to Luca who’s surprised to see me.
“Well, well, look who’s back.”
I grin. “Not for a job this time. Is Lynette here?”
“She’s off tonight. You on a date?” he asks quietly, jerking his head toward Fred who’s staring toward the front door.
“Nah. Just a friend.”
“What can I get you?” he questions, the overhead lights bouncing off his bald head.
