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“We don’t sing,” the waitress says nervously, “but we do have a free dessert.”
“I can get on board with that,” I say, placing the fork down and handing her my menu.
Georgie props her chin up on the back of her hand and looks at me.
“What’s that look for?” I ask.
“You know I love you,” she says.
“Don’t be sappy; you know how I hate that.” I drain the last of my martini, knowing I’m gonna need it.
“But you gotta get back out there or it’s gonna dry up like a raisin,” Georgie says, and then she leans in. “It might have already happened. Have you looked at it lately?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re disgusting, you know that?” I say and Georgie leans back in the booth laughing. “Okay, what about you? I don’t see you dating anyone,” I say, crossing my arms over my chest with satisfaction.
“Dating and fucking are two very different things.”
The waitress drops off our bottle of wine just in time to hear Georgie’s eloquent explanation.
“Working in a bar, I’ve heard worse. You ladies enjoy your evening.” She winks at Georgie and leaves us to pour the bottle ourselves.
“I like her,” Georgie admits, pointing a finger in her direction.
“Look, all I’m saying is that if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s you,” she says, lifting her glass. “Happy birthday.”
I clink my glass with hers and take a sip.
“Just wait untilyourbirthday,” I tease.
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Georgie sneers, setting her wine glass back on the table.
“Welcome to the forty club,” I say, smiling.
“Not yet,” she reminds me with stern eyes.
“Let’s just enjoy dinner, and you can fill me in on your afternoon with Beth,” Georgie suggests and settles in.
“I want to be able to eat my dinner, Georgie,” I say, shaking out the napkin and placing it in my lap.
“That bad?” she asks.
“Not really, but I’ll be glad when all this wedding stuff is over and I can have my life back,” I say.
“Oh, come on now, we all know your sister can be a pain in the ass, but aren’t you happy for her?” Georgie asks.
“Of course, I am,” I tell her. “It’s just been a stressful week, and Beth was the target I got to take it out on.” I raise my eyebrows conspiratorially. “That was just a bonus,” I wink.
Georgie laughs. “You know what’s good for stress?”
“Chocolate and wine?” I raise my glass as proof, cutting her off, just as when our food arrives.
“And pasta,” Georgie says, staring at her big plate of manicotti. She picks up her fork, and before she takes a bite, she looks at me and says, “And sex, Lake. Sex is good for stress.” She places a forkful in her mouth while I shake my head and laugh.
I can barely finish half my pasta, but when I look over at Georgie’s plate, I see she’s almost eaten all of it.
“How someone as small as you can fit all of that in your stomach, I’ll never know,” I say, draining the last of my glass.
“You have no idea what I can fit in here,” Georgie teases, raising an eyebrow and patting her stomach.
