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We walked over to the bar area, and it was impossible not to notice that every single person we passed seemed to stop what they were doing to watch us walk by. My dress and my shoes felt tighter than ever as those feelings of insecurity I’d had outside in the line returned with full force.
I collapsed onto one of the couches once we finally reached the bar area. At least sitting down, I could blend in a little easier. Or I liked to imagine I could.
The black leather felt cold against my bare thighs, and a shiver went up my spine as I considered the fact that people might have… y’know…right on this very couch.
I did my best to focus on other things—anything else, really—as a cheery cocktail waitress walked over to us. She was wearing a button-down white blouse and a black miniskirt that barely covered her ass. I looked down at her black heels and tried to imagine how the hell she could actually work while walking in those things.
“What can I get for you girls?” she asked, perfectly balancing the tray in her hands.
“I’ll just have a water with lemon, please,” I told her with a timid smile. I’d pretend it was actually hot tea with lemon, and that instead of sitting on these leather couches, I was curled up in my bed at home.
Liza scoffed, of course. I knew she would. But I was hoping she’d let it go.
“No, no, no. We didn’t come to the bar for water,” she said emphatically.
“Liza, come on…” I mumbled, but she ignored me.
She smiled up sweetly at the waitress. “Yeah, can we actually get two mojitos instead? Forget the water entirely.”
The waitress nodded without giving me a second glance. “Perfect, I’ll be right back with that,” she said, before turning around and dropping off drinks to a man and a woman on the next couch over.
Liza flashed me a look of annoyance.
“What?” I asked.
“You seriously thought you were going to get away with a water? Come on, Harlow. Why is it so hard to get you to just come out and enjoy yourself? You act like it might actually be physically painful to have a good time.”
“It is physically painful,” I argued, pointedly glancing down at my pinched feet. “This just isn’t how I enjoy myself. You know that.”
“Yeah, yeah, you’d rather be home with your books. I get it. But you’re not going to find a man if you’re stuck at home every weekend typing away at your computer.”
I rolled my eyes. “I didn’t realize that finding me a guy was on the agenda tonight. I thought we were here for you.”
“Well, when was the last time you’ve even been on a date?” she asked.
I wasn’t even sure how to answer that. It had definitely been… a while.
“It doesn’t matter because I’ve got no interest in dating right now,” I told her. “I’m busy. I’ve got plenty of work and… and other things to keep myself preoccupied.”
“Like reading. Writing. More reading.” The sarcasm in her tone was impossible to miss.
“Yes, exactly. All of those things. It’s my job. And it really is what I want to do.” I didn’t need to necessarily admit that reading and writing seemed to take up all my free time lately. But even if that wasn’t the case, I didn’t want to bring a man into my life who would take away from my focus.
“Seriously, Harlow, you’re going to have to live a little. Life is about more than just work.”
I might have agreed with her, in theory. But right now, my work was my life and I saw no reason to add a man to it. “I’m happy just the way things are,” I told her.
She looked at me skeptically. “Are you? Or are you just trying to avoid getting hurt again?”
I shifted uncomfortably on the leather couch. I knew what she was talking about, of course. Things hadn’t gone so well in my last relationship.
I couldn’t say she was wrong, really. My last relationship had been difficult. Had it turned me off from seeking a new one?
Yeah, maybe.
Probably.
And not only because it failed miserably, but also because… it hadn’t ever really been that great. I was a hard woman to please—that was what my last relationship had taught me.
