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“Dill, have you ever wanted something you know is really bad for you?”
He laughs, his whole body shaking, and lifts his pint. “Every day, darlin’!”
I smile, taking the five-dollar bill from his outstretched hand. “Not like that. I mean, something that could really change your life. Tip-it-upside-down kinda change.”
“Getting philosophical?” Donny slides onto the stool next to him. “Be a doll and get me a beer, Liv.”
I shoot him an annoyed look. “Aren’t you supposed to be working, boss?”
“I’m taking a break.” He smiles at me charmingly. “And my beer?”
Chewing the inside of my lip, I grab a bottle of Bud from the fridge, uncap it, and put it in front of him. “Two ninety please.”
“Are you joking?”
“No. You just put the prices up, and it’ll be my ass you chew out later when the stock and books don’t add up.”
Donny smirks and digs out a ten-dollar bill. He throws it on the bar with, “There. Put me another one in and keep the change.”
I flip him the bird. Boss or not, be an asshole, I’ll treat you like one.
Old Dill shakes his head. “What do you mean, wanted something you know is bad for you? We’re not talking beer so I’m not following.”
I sigh and lean my hip against the bar. “Okay. So, there’s this guy—”
“The one who was in here the other week?” Donny asks.
I nod. “He’s the best man at my best friend’s wedding this summer. Anyway, we’ve been spending time together. Kind of forced, kind of not. But I know he’s not good for me.”
“So dump him.” Dill shrugs.
“Really? That’s your solve-all answer? ‘Dump him’?”
“Carry on.”
“I like him. Like, I think I really like him. He’s just not good for me…emotionally.” I nibble the skin on the side of my thumb. “What do you do when you want someone and they want you but you know they’re the absolute worst thing for you?”
Both men stare at me like I’ve grown two heads. Their gazes soon turn contemplative. How do I know? They’re both gazing into their beers like that’s exactly where they’ll find their answer.
When they don’t respond after a moment, I serve someone else at the end of the bar.
“I guess the only thing you can do is to walk away. If they’re really that bad for you, you have no reason to stay,” Donny finally says.
“And if walking away would hurt as much as staying?”
Dill sips his pint. “Then you’re fucked either way, darlin’. You gotta pick the one with the happiest ending.”
“But I don’t know which one that is.”
“Then you have to guess and hope you get it right.”
Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
I walk out of my agent’s office with a spring in my step. Kind of. I even give Clara a smile. So it’s little bitchy, but it was nicer than the I-wish-you-were-six-feet-under glare she gave me.
Whatever.
But there’s a spring in my step and the sun is shining. It’s, like, thirty degrees, but the sun is still there.
