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“Darling, I’m on a two-hour vacation,” Jeanine said, waving again as I dropped into the seat across from her. “You could have been a no-show and I’d still be pleased as punch.”
I laughed, shaking my head.
“You know how to make a girl feel special,” I said. She giggled, a bright peal. Then she pushed a slightly sweaty whiskey sour across the table toward me. I picked it up and chugged it, already eyeing the bar so I could line up another round. I usually tried not to drink as a coping mechanism, but Thacker had me at the end of my rope with his constant back and forth.
“You know what I mean,” Jeanine said, watching me make quick work of the cocktail. “Bad day?”
I glanced up at her.
“How could you tell?”
“Well, for one,youtextedmeto go out. That almost never happens.”
“And for two?”
“Your dress is on backwards.” She said it with a straight face, so it took a minute for me to process her words. When I did, I looked down in horror to discover that she was right.
When I came back from the bathroom with my dress on the right way, my cell phone screen was lit up, showing a text from Thacker that had just come in.
We need to talk tomorrow.
My stomach flipped. I turned the phone face down on the table and gratefully slurped from the fresh whiskey sour that Jeanine had ordered for me while I was in the bathroom. She was drinking soda from a tall, plastic glass and watching me with a knowing smile.
“Okay girl,” she said when I avoided eye contact and took another sip from my glass. “You got me here. I put on a dress. Time to spill.”
I shook my head and groaned.
“You don’t even want to know. It’s nothing, just work drama. My boss is a completeass.” Jeanine nodded sagely. She was searching for the tip of her straw with her tongue.
“Most men are. Go on.”
“We did inventory together last Sunday and I thought we were getting along. Then I walk in today and he’s ranting about chicken.”
“Chicken?” Jeanine asked with a frown.
“He says we’re over serving chicken. And maybe we are. There’s been a big rush at the restaurant lately, but he swears he’s still losing money on product. So, as the head chef, the buck stops with me. I’m fine with that. What I’m not okay with, is him lashing out and treating me and my staff like shit because he’s stressed.”
“Maybe he should try meditation,” Jeanine suggested, not exactly helpfully. Still, I had to laugh. She was adorable with her big belly and her undeniable pregnancy glow.
“Or a sedative,” I sniped. She laughed and nodded. She was now using her straw to fish a cherry from the bottom of her cup. “Anyway. Honestly, I don’t even want to talk about it. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on with you?”
Jeanine rolled her eyes exaggeratedly.
“You mean my mother sleeping on my couch and driving me crazy? Or Lars playing three away games in a row? Or Micah deciding that the bathtub is the appropriate place to poop?”
At that, I started laughing so hard I sucked whiskey sour up my nose and nearly fell off my stool.
Too soon, Jeanine set her cup down on the table with a sigh.
“I gotta go, girl,” she said. I nodded and tried to stand up to hug her but tripped and had to hold onto the table for support. The bar was going fuzzy around the edges, and I knew that I had had too much. Jeanine held me by the shoulders and looked into my face. “And you’re coming with me. Come on. I’ll drop you off on my way home.” I shook my head. “Hope, I’m not leaving you here like this. No way. Get your purse.”
“I’m fine,” I assured her, in what I hoped was a convincing voice. “I’ll get a ride share home in a little while. I just want to have another drink real quick.”
I thought I made a good point but she shook her head and frowned.
“I can’t just leave you here,” she said again. I grabbed her hands and squeezed while doing my best to hold her gaze.
“I promise,” I said. “I’m fine. I’ll get a ride share, and I’ll text you when I get home safe.”
