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I nod, having only eaten half my lasagna because my appetite sucks. “Yes.”
Christa also nods and thanks him for the menu.
“Chocolate will make everything better,” she says, opening the menu. She quickly decides on a dessert and closes the menu.
I try to smile. She’s not wrong.
She looks up at me. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re only twenty-six. You’ll find another job.”
“I know,” I reply. The Denver Metro area is near second to Silicon Valley. I’ll be okay. “I just... miss Mom, and now this. I can’t believe they let me go right after her death.”
I look up at my friend and she’s biting her lip in her telltale stress way.
“What?” I ask.
“Well... they were planning on letting you go a week or so ago. Then your mom... and, well, they knew they had to wait.”
“What?” I snap. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Christa puts her hands up in surrender. “I was going to. I found out last Friday that it had been planned before that. I didn’t want to ruin your weekend, then your mom passed...”
I sighed. Would it have made a difference if I knew? Probably not. It still hurts. Tears spring to my eyes and Christa puts her hand on mine on top of the bar. She uses the other to push my glass toward me. “Drink.”
I obey, swallowing all the wine in one big gulp. She lifts the glass to her lips and sips hers. The alcohol hits me right away and my body calms. I physically feel my shoulders untense and my legs uncross underneath my skirt. I twist my ankles together and hook my heels on the stool’s foot-rest bars.
“Better?” she asks.
I nod, trying to smile but still, the sadness lingers. “I’ll live.”
The bartender delivers us death by chocolate cake and we chat while enjoying the decadent dessert.
“So what case are you working on?” I ask Christa, desperate to change the subject.
She swallows a bite of cake with some chocolate on her lips. She licks it off and says, “Oh, you’re gonna love this one.” She sets her fork down. “Get this. These two dudes go into a cell phone store and literally just start helping themselves to a bunch of shit. They walk out with thousands in merch and nobody stops them! So one of the workers runs out and gets the license plate of the car the guys hopped into. Then she calls the police.”
“Wow, good for her! No security?”
“He was on a break or something,” she replies with an eyeroll.
“So the firm is defending these thieves?” I ask, incredulous.
“Girl, no. The cops caught the guys and they were on their, like, fifth strike or something for theft. The employer freakin’ fired the employee for reporting it!”
My mouth drops open. “You’re lying.”
She chuckles. “I’m not! They said they have a ‘no report’ policy. Like what thewhat? Just let these people steal? No.Hellno. We took the case to sue the employer for wrongful termination. She obviously doesn’t want her job back, but she wants compensation. Talk about going from hero to zero in the span of a few hours!”
“That’s literally insane. What kind of world do we live in?”
“That’s what I keep saying. I just don’t get it. I’m happy we took the case. I hope she sues that store out of business. So ridiculous.”
Gah, the change of subject was not helping my mood. Crime is never uplifting.
“So how are things with James?” I ask, trying another tactic.
“No.”
I furrow my brow. “That wasn’t a yes or no question.”
