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It’s a regular bar, though it does have some nice touches, like a neon sign and some industrial-chic gold lamps.
Quite a few people are sitting at tables and at the bar. Chatter and laughter fill the space as we make our way to a table. I even wave at a few people who frequent The Bean as we pass by them. The mood is laid-back, and it’s exactly what I need today.
“Yeah.”
When Daisy insisted on happy hour after work, I didn’t hesitate to take her up on it. I may even have a drink. Doctors recommend not drinking at all, but I’m allowed one every so often so long as I’m responsible about it and continue my medication.
After last night, I need some friend time and relaxation. De-stressing is a must. Daisy’s analytical mind will help. It’s part of her lawyer DNA.
“Let’s grab that booth.” I point to one at the far end of the bar. It’ll give us some privacy.
“You are all jumpy today. What’s wrong?”
“Ugh.” I drop my head in my hands once we’re seated. “Everything’s a mess,” I mumble against my skin.
“Talk to me.” The leather squeaks from her side of the booth. Then, she reaches for my wrist and gently tugs it so that I look up at her.
I summarize what happened last night at Tristan’s parents’ house. I let it all out, including my confusion when he held me.
“I knew it!” she yells.
“Shush,” I hiss, waving my hand to calm her down.
“Sorry,” she grimaces. “I forget this is such a small town.”
“I have no idea what’s happening. Suddenly, he’s there, comforting me, being so sweet, and I just wanted him to kiss me.” I pout and scrunch up my face, my body shaking with confusion as if I were crying. It’s probably super unattractive, but I feel helpless.
“Oh, stop with that.” Daisy rolls her eyes. “Why does this have to be a bad thing?”
“Because I’m not supposed to actually like him,” I whisper. “We made a deal. He’s been great to me, but we’re just friends. Once he’s ready to move forward in his career, he’ll leave again. And he doesn’t want anything more.” I shake my head, feeling defeated.
How am I supposed to continue with this plan if I feel even a tiny ounce of something toward Tristan?
“First of all, it’s normal for feelings to surface when you spend a lot of time with someone. Secondly, he’s totally into you.” She sounds so confident, but I don’t think so. She doesn’t know Tristan the way I’ve gotten to know him. He’s driven, and he’ll return to the life he wants soon.
“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. “I’m a college dropout working as a barista, with a mountain of debt and a disease that isn’t going away.”
“First of all, you don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re so smart and amazing.” Daisy glares at me. “Secondly, you’re not dead. You have so much life to live. Why do you punish yourself?”
“I don’t punish myself,” I argue. “But I know that I won’t be able to provide someone like him the life he wants. I can’t go on month-long trips, and I won’t add the stress of a long-distance relationship. Why are we even discussing this if there’s no point?” I slump back on the seat.
The waiter appears right at that moment, and I mentally thank him.
“I’ll have a gin and tonic,” Daisy orders.
“I’ll have a glass of red wine.”
Daisy’s eyebrows lift, but she makes no comment.
Once the waiter leaves, Daisy leans forward on her elbows.
“You must be in a real mood if you’re having a glass of wine.”
“I am.” I nod, taking a deep breath. “It’s just one, and I never drink.”
It’s easier not to drink at all than to get caught up and lose track of what I’ve had. It’s why I usually opt for a no-alcohol rule. Besides, I feel better without it.
“So, what are you going to do? You’re still going to keep up with the plan, right? In a few more weeks, you’ll be free.”
