Chapter One
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for my entire life. Well, most of it. Ever since my grandfather sat me down and screwed my head on straight, as he called it. He helped me focus on the things that matter, like getting good grades, attending a respectable college, and finding a job I could turn into a career.
I’ve done all of that. I ignored the temptations that were all around me, focused on school, and now I have an entry level position at York Financial. I’m still basically a glorified intern, but they’re paying me well, and my future has never looked brighter.
It’s my first day, and I’ve been invited to sit in on a high-level meeting. I’m not sure if every new hire gets invited to a meeting like this on their first day, but I’ve heard that Ms. Frost likes to see what people are capable of. I was just hoping I’d have more than a foot barely in the door before I got called into a meeting with the CEO.
I step into the conference room and hold my breath as I look around. The room is larger than my entire apartment, framed by floor-to-ceiling windows that spill early morning light across a polished glass table long enough to seat an army of executives. The chairs are sleek black leather, perfectly spaced, and perfectly aligned.
A massive screen covers one wall with graphs and market data I recognize but don’t fully understand yet. I’ll be responsible for compiling graphs like that soon. I’ll have to prove myself before they trust me to do more than that, based on what I’ve heard.
“Good morning,” I say timidly, unsure if I should introduce myself or wait to be addressed.
Victoria Frost is at the head of the table. She’s in her sixties but hardly looks it. She’s the CEO of York Financial and she’s got quite a reputation for having high expectations and very little patience. Some former employees referred to her as the Ice Queen in a scathing article they wrote after being terminated. Instead of suing them for defamation or burying the story, she simply owned it without a single apology.
There are two men seated on either side of her, across from each other. Gilbert Waters and Harold Smith. They’re two of the major decision makers at York Financial, but Ms. Frost has the final say in everything.
“Ansley, right? The new girl?” Ms. Frost asks, glaring at me. “They should have told you how we like our coffee.”
“Yes ma’am, I’m Ansley Ellery,” I reply, then I realize that she isn’t glaring at me because she wants me to introduce myself. She wants her coffee. “And yes, one cream two sugars for you.”
Ms. Frost wafts a hand, and I hurry to the table with coffee and breakfast pastries. I memorized how she likes her coffee by repeating it over-and-over in the elevator. I think Mr. Waters likes his black and Mr. Smith likes a splash of milk. I hope I didn’t mix those up.
I prepare Ms. Frost’s coffee first and bring it over to her. Walking over with the other two, I feel awkward, not certain I got them right. I tentatively offer Mr. Waters the black coffee and he raises a brow, so I switch the cups. He smiles and takes it. Mr. Smith doesn’t look up when I put his cup on the table. Hopefully that means I got it right.
“Alright, let’s get this meeting started,” Ms. Frost sighs, taking a sip of her coffee. Her expression doesn’t change, so I’m not sure if she likes it or hates it. “We need to talk about Blithe Holdings. Lots of activity this morning in the market.”
“As planned,” Mr. Waters says. “We liquidated our position before the market closed yesterday. Five million shares. If the trajectory holds, we’ll buy back in before the market closes today.”
“My team is predicting we’ll be able to pick up eight million shares with the capital from yesterday’s liquidation. Then tomorrow the shares will skyrocket, and we can decide how long we want to hold them before we turn some more profit,” Mr. Smith adds.
“Our investors will be happy. That’s what matters,” Ms. Frost says. “That’s all that matters. As soon as the price peaks, sell everything.”
“Everything? You don’t even want to hold the five million shares we started with?” Mr. Waters questions.
“No. Blithe Holdings had a good year, but they won’t have another one like this. They’re behind on AI integration because they tried to build it themselves rather than buying it from one of the industry leaders,” Ms. Frost says. “We’re better off investing in a company that is more innovative. Blithe Holdings is a relic. I don’t like relics.”
“Yes, ma’am, understood,” Mr. Waters accepts.
I listen carefully. It’s a bit overwhelming. They’re discussing deals worth millions of dollars like I discuss a shopping trip to the mall with my best friend. But if I’m going to work here, I have to get used to it. Especially if I hope to one day have a seat at this massive table and do more than bring them coffee.
But that’s decades away. That’s the end game. I’m a long way from that. The only thing I’m worried about right now is surviving my first day and hopefully not making a fool of myself before I get my first paycheck.
“What do you think, Ansley?” Ms. Frost asks, turning her attention to me. “Don’t stand there like one of those emotionless angel statues downtown. My meetings are interactive. I expect everyone to give their opinion.”
“Oh, um,” I stammer. I wasn’t expecting to be asked any questions. I didn’t prepare for this. I quickly try to recall everything I know about Blithe Holdings. “What you said about their AI integration is correct, from what I remember. However, I saw an article two days ago that said they were still investing heavily in it.”
“And?” Ms. Frost tilts her head slightly. I’ve never had this kind of attention from someone as important as her. I’m definitely not prepared to be quizzed by the CEO on my first day. “I didn’t ask you to regurgitate something you read. I asked what you think.”
I take a deep breath before I respond. I went to school for this. I’m not completely out of my element. How would I answer this in class? We had discussions like this.
“Well, AI is still rather new,” I say. “A lot of companies have integrated it, but even the companies that are buying their models from industry leaders aren’t all seeing the kind of success they predicted. It’s also expensive to go that route, especially for a company the size of Blithe Holdings.” I take another deep breath. “Yes, they’re a relic, but people said the same thing about Grant Tech two years ago. Now their shares have quadrupled.”
“So, you disagree with my strategy?” Ms. Frost asks, her tone like a whip that cracks through the air.
“No, I mean…” I fidget with my hands, sweat trickling down my lower back.
“Then you agree with my strategy? We should sell?” she presses.
I should just agree. That’s the smart thing to do. The quicker this meeting is over, the better. I’m not supposed to be making financial decisions like this. That’s what the other people in this room do. Do I really want to get on my CEO’s bad side the very first day? But if I agree, I’m lying, and it’s no secret that Ms. Frost hates liars.
“Your strategy is sound, Ms. Frost,” I say, doing my best not to tremble. “However, there’s very little risk to York Financial if you… we… hold onto some of the shares. We might miss an opportunity to sell them at the peak price, but if the earnings reports are going to be favorable tomorrow, then the price won’t dip lower than what we paid. They should still stabilize at a higher price.”
“You’re not concerned this is going to be the best year Blithe Holdings ever has?” Ms. Frost questions. “That by missing the opportunity to sell at the peak, we’ll lose out on millions of dollars if we have to liquidate them later?”
I can’t turn back now. I’ve stated my position and now I have to defend it, just like I did at school. “Every investment is a risk, Ms. Frost. Last year, York Financial liquidated their position in a number of companies that had a better year than they were forecasted to have.”
“Don’t remind me,” Mr. Smith grumbles.
Ms. Frost studies me for a long moment. She reaches for her coffee and takes a drink, then puts it down in front of her. The room is so quiet I can hear the faint hum of the building’s ventilation system.
“Very well, we’ll retain our original position in Blithe Holdings,” Ms. Frost says. “Ansley, you will be in charge of monitoring this investment for us as part of your portfolio. I’ll expect an update in my email shortly after the markets open each morning. Don’t make me have to ask for it.”
My eyes widen and I can’t stop my lips from trembling. Monitoring an investment? Daily reporting to the CEO? This feels way, way above my pay grade.
“Yes, ma’am,” I reply, unsure of what else to say.
The discussion about Blithe Holdings seems to be over. I hope I didn’t screw up. Didn’t overstep. She put me on the spot, and I didn’t know what else to say.
I pay attention to the discussions about several other investments, but nobody asks my opinion about those. After that, the meeting ends and I hold the door for the three of them. Ms. Frost blows past me without a word. Mr. Smith does the same. Mr. Waters stops.
“Good job. You’ve got a bright future here, Ms. Ellery,” he says, flashing a smile before he leaves the conference room.
I wait until they’re out of sight before I step out into the hallway. My heart is racing. My palms are sweaty. The back of my blouse is practically sopping wet. I hurry to the bathroom to try and calm down some before returning to the bottom floor, where I’ll be working.
My boss spots me as soon as I step off the elevator. He’s a heavyset man who is in charge of the new hires and he waves me over, so I approach him.
“Well, you didn’t get fired, so I guess your first meeting with Ms. Frost went well,” Mr. Fleming chuckles, like he’s amused by it. “You should have access to the system now and the training package for your orientation should be in your email. You can spend the rest of the day working on that. Let me know if you have any questions.”
He turns and walks away without giving me a chance to respond. I’ve calmed down some now. I’m certainly glad I didn’t get fired on my first day. I didn’t even realize that was a possibility.
I walk into the cubicle maze that makes up the first floor of York Financial and am grateful I remember where my desk is. Everyone is hard at work, and nobody even looks at me, so I sit down. My login information works. The orientation training package is in my email. I load it and realize it’s quite extensive. It may take a couple of days to get through it all.
After I’ve been clicking boxes for nearly an hour, my phone lights up with a text message from my best friend.
Daisy: Hey girl! How’s the first day of corporate life going?
Ansley: Stressful! I got called into a meeting with the CEO and she put me on the spot. I don’t think I’ve ever sweated so much!
Daisy: Sounds like you’re going to need a drink after work. Swing by the bar?
Ansley: I’m not sure if I’ll feel up to it. I just want to put on my pajamas and go to bed.
Daisy: It’s not even noon yet!
Ansley: I meant after work. Obviously not right now. Unless you think I could get away with it. Do you think they’d notice?
Daisy: Just stop by. Please? I haven’t seen you in weeks! First drink is on me.
Ansley: Fine. Just one drink, though. Then I’m going home.
Daisy: See you then!
Daisy and I have been best friends since middle school. Our lives have gone in different directions, but we’re still close friends. At one time, we were both planning to conquer the corporate world. That fell apart for Daisy after we got to college. She got distracted, disinterested, and dropped out after she lost her scholarship.
Since then, she’s been working as a bartender at Fletcher’s Bar. It’s not a dive, but it’s close. I’ve stopped by a couple times since moving back to Chicago, but like she said, it’s been a few weeks.
One drink and then I’m going straight home to the comfort of my pajamas.
I’m looking forward to that more than ever.
[divider]Chapter Two
Ansley
After a weary day of orientation, I step into Fletcher’s Bar.
It’s a weeknight, so the place isn’t packed. There’s hardly a soul in here except for a few patrons at the counter. Daisy spots me immediately and lets out a squeal. She dashes from behind the bar and nearly tackles me with a hug.
“You made it! Oh my gawd!” she shrieks, then she spins around, holding onto my arm. “Paul! This is Ansley, my best friend in the entire world!”
I’m not sure who Paul is until an older man lifts his head and glances over. “Nice to meet you, miss.” He immediately turns his attention back to the glass in front of him.
“Say hello, Aaron,” Daisy says, dragging me along the counter and poking the only other bar patron in the ribs.
“Hey!” he grumbles, rubbing the spot where she poked him as he glances over his shoulder. He’s older than Paul and has a scraggly beard. “So, you’re the one she keeps talking about, huh? Miss Corporate Big Shot?”
“Yep! Today was her first day at York Financial and she had a meeting with the CEO!” Daisy says proudly. “She’ll be running that place in a matter of months!”
“Nice. Well, remember us little people when you’re at the top,” Aaron chuckles.
“I don’t think I’ll be running anything…” I trail off when I realize Aaron isn’t paying attention to me at all.
Daisy drags me down to the end of the bar and I sit on a stool. She hurries back around the bar and starts making a drink. I can tell from the ingredients she lines up that it’s a Long Island Iced Tea.
“That’s a bit more than I planned to drink tonight,” I say apprehensively.
“You said one drink and I’m buying, so it’s my choice,” Daisy chirps, continuing to make the drink without missing a beat.
I could stand my ground, and Daisy would make me a different drink, but she’s already started. I might as well enjoy it since it’s free, even if I’d prefer a glass of white wine over liquor.
I look around the bar while she works. Fletcher’s rides the line between a dive bar and a neighborhood hangout. The lights are dim and warm, the wood of the bar worn smooth from years of elbows and spilled drinks. Old beer signs glow softly on the walls beside framed photos of people I assume are regulars since I recognize Paul in one of them, but he’s much younger than the haggard old man down the bar from me.
The stool I’m sitting on squeaks as I turn back to Daisy. The floor under my feet is just a tad sticky. Despite that, the bar has a comfortable, lived-in feel. I wouldn’t come here if Daisy wasn’t behind the counter, but I can understand why the locals like it. It doesn’t feel stuffy or uptight like some of the bars downtown.
“Alright, I want to hear about your first day,” Daisy says, putting the drink in front of me. “Don’t leave anything out! Tell me everything!”
“Outside of the meeting with Ms. Frost, it wasn’t very interesting. I have a lot of orientation training stuff to go through,” I say, taking a sip of my drink. I wasn’t expecting it to be so flavorful. “Wow, that’s good!”
“Of course it’s good. I made it,” Daisy says proudly. “I’ve gotten a lot better since I used to mix Sprite and vodka for us on the weekend at college.”
I shudder a little, remembering some nights I’d rather forget. “Yeah, but I think you mean when you used to splash a drop of Sprite in a glass of vodka and call it a drink.”
“It was a drink.” Daisy shrugs. “A strong drink, which is what we needed to get through our freshman year.”
“You did, apparently,” I laugh, taking another drink of my Long Island Iced Tea. “I was just trying to study.”
“And you did. You studied hard. You got your degree. You got your dream job.” Daisy glances at the other two people at the bar to make sure they’re good on their drinks before leaning closer, propping her elbows on the wood. “So, now what?”
“What do you mean?” I ask curiously.
“I mean it’s time to stop being a good girl, Ansley,” Daisy laughs. “There’s more to life than spreadsheets, portfolios, and stock prices. Aren’t you ready to let your hair down? Finally have a little fun?”
“My hair is down,” I laugh, twirling a brunette curl around my finger as proof. “And it’s not like I never have fun. I used to go to parties with you all the time.”
“Years ago, sure. How many did you go to after I dropped out? Exactly… zero?” she questions, rolling her eyes to the ceiling and tapping her chin with one manicured fingernail.
“I was busy,” I argue. “I had to keep my grades up.”
“Yep, yep, heard that all before,” Daisy chimes. “But you’re done with all that now. You’re working at York Financial. Surely, you’re not going to live the rest of your life in an office like the Ice Queen.”
“I don’t know. It was my first day!” I shrug and take another sip of my drink.
“You’ve done everything on that list you made,” Daisy says, referencing our dumb teenage bucket list. “I haven’t, but mine is full of things like going to Italy to see all the cool artwork, witnessing the Seven Wonders, and… riding a tiger, but I’m never doing that,” she laughs, shaking her head. “Yours stopped at, what was it, getting a good job?”
“Corner office,” I laugh, feeling the first hint of the alcohol. “I’m not quite there yet.”
“A corner office to die in?” she questions. “You’ve got a lot of life left, and not much on your list. Maybe it’s time for a new list? Dating? Boyfriend? …maybe a husband one day? You said you wanted to have kids.”
“I mean, I do,” I admit, twisting the glass on the coaster. “I went on a couple of dates in college.”
“Yes, I remember,” she says, rolling her eyes. “The first one was a double date I dragged you to, and you spent the entire time talking about how much you needed to study. The second was the charity auction, and he did not get his money’s worth.”
“What was he supposed to get for fifty-seven dollars?” I scoff.
Daisy leans back, turns and taps the bar. “Paul, what can you get on the south side for fifty-seven dollars?” she asks with a playful grin.
“At least a blowjob,” Paul grunts. “Not from a girl that still has all her teeth, but sometimes that’s for the best.”
“See, at least a blowjob,” Daisy, spinning back to face me, mile-wide grin on her pretty face.
“Oh my god!” I yell, then down a gulp of my Long Island Iced Tea. “Daisy! I wasn’t going to… you’re crazy! It was just a charity auction for rescue animals, not a brothel.”
“But if you’d had I’m-gonna-fuck-you eyes, you’d have gotten more bids,” Daisy laughs, clearly taking advantage of the fact she hasn’t gotten to tease me in weeks. “The guy I went on a date with paid almost two hundred. You let those puppies down, Ansley. Just think about how many you could have helped…”
“Bitch,” I mutter, a silly grin of my own spreading across my face.
“Bitch,” she replies back, batting her eyelashes.
“I’m not but you are,” we say in unison, just like we did when we were kids, then we start laughing.
“Can I get another drink before you two start making out?” Paul asks, tapping his glass on the counter.
“She’s my best friend! I don’t even like girls like that… usually!” Daisy says, throwing a rag at Paul before snatching his glass. “Aaron, you want another?”
“Not unless you are going to start making out,” he chuckles. “Otherwise, I’m going to go pass out before it gets dark. I have to be at work at three in the morning again.”
“See you tomorrow!” Daisy waves, then starts pouring some cheap whiskey for Paul.
I lean back and stretch before taking another sip of my drink. Sitting in a chair all day is something I’ve gotten used to, but the chairs in our cubicles are barely ergonomic. I’m going to be dying for a promotion just for better seating.
Daisy fills Paul’s glass, then puts it on the bar in front of him and retrieves her rag before sauntering back over to me. I look up with the smile still lingering on my face, starting to feel the alcohol a little more. This isn’t vodka with a splash of Sprite, but she still put a few heavy pours into it.
“Seriously, Ansley. I’m not putting any pressure on you, but you’re so pretty. I know you want the house, picket fence, and all that. Don’t let one stern talk from your grandfather make you a slave to a desk for the rest of your life,” Daisy sighs. “Lord knows I got more than one stern talk when I was that age and barely remember what half of them were about.”
“No, you’re right. I’ve literally done everything on my list except get a corner office,” I admit. “I do want more. I don’t want to be alone forever. I don’t think anybody does.”
“I’m managing,” she says. “But I go on dates. I have fun. I could help, you know. This place is a great for meeting guys.”
I glance over at Paul, then back at Daisy. “Um, he’s older than my grandfather.”
“Not tonight, silly girl,” Daisy laughs, smacking me with her rag. “Friday or Saturday night, it’s a different story. Come by Friday. I’m working. I’ll point out my single best friend to every hot guy without a wedding band who orders a drink. It’ll be like speed dating. If you don’t like them, give me a sign, and I’ll send another one over.”
Maybe it’s alcohol, or maybe it’s the conversation, but after another sip of my drink, I seal my fate.
Daisy is sure it will be an epic night. I’m not so sure.
[divider]Chapter Three
Ansley
I start my second day at York Financial preparing a detailed report for Ms. Frost about Blithe Holdings.
Then I continue working on my orientation. I finish that by the end of my second day and spend most of the third day waiting for a meeting with Mr. Fleming so I can find out what’s next. I get a load of assignments to keep me busy for the rest of the week. I barely have time for lunch.
On Friday night, I consider canceling my plans at least a dozen times before getting dressed to go out. I’m a little nervous. I haven’t dated much. I’m definitely outside of my comfort zone. I feel even more outside of it when I step into Fletcher’s Bar and see that’s it’s packed. It takes several attempts to flag Daisy down.
“Wow, you weren’t kidding about it being packed tonight,” I say, having to raise my voice over the music.
“Told you! Just sit here and look pretty. Nice dress, by the way,” she says with a grin. “I’ll make sure you don’t have to pay for a drink all night.”
And so, it begins. The epic night, as Daisy put it. I sit at the end of the counter and wait patiently. I’m not sure I look pretty, but this is the best dress in my closet. I actually look a little overdressed, now that I’m looking around.
Just when I’m considering how to make my escape, I see Daisy pointing me out to a tall guy in a cowboy hat. You don’t see many cowboy hats in Chicago. He flashes a grin, says something to Daisy and strolls my way like he’s about to lasso me.
“Hey there, pretty lady. I’m Rex, but most people just call me Tex because of my accent,” he says in a smooth twang. “What’cha drinking?”
“Um, nothing yet,” I turn to face him. “I guess… white wine.”
Rex or Tex, I’m not sure what to call him, leans against the counter and flags Daisy down. He’s not a bad looking guy. Tall, tanned, and they say guys with accents like his are supposed to be gentlemanly.
Is that what I want? I’m not really sure what I want.
“Wine for the pretty lady,” the cowboy drawls.
“Coming right up!” Daisy chimes, winking at me.
Daisy knows I like white wine, so it’s no surprise when that’s what she brings. Rex-or-Tex is drinking beer. He gives me his full attention, brown eyes studying me.
“Ansley, right? I really like that name. I went to school with an Ansley,” he says. “Her eyes weren’t as pretty as a Texas sunset, though.”
“Oh, um,” I stammer, blushing slightly. “Thank you.”
Rex-or-Tex seems to like giving compliments. Over the course of half a glass of wine, he compliments everything except what he shouldn’t. I struggle to find anything to compliment him on except his accent. But it doesn’t take me long to realize we have zero chemistry. One comment about what I do for work, and his eyes glaze over until he finds something else to compliment.
“It was very nice to meet you. Thank you for the wine,” I say kindly, noticing that Daisy is pointing me out to another customer. “But my friend wants me to treat this like speed-dating, and I think she’s got my next date lined up.”
“She mentioned that,” he chuckles. “Let me give you my number. I’d love to hear from you if someone else doesn’t sweep you off your feet tonight.”
He jots down his number and leaves. The next guy comes over. His name is Jake and he played football in college. He’s proud of it because that’s all he talks about for most of our so-called speed date. Still, I take his number to be polite and add it to the collection. Then it’s time for my next date.
“Uh, hi, the blonde behind the counter said I had to come meet you,” a guy says. He’s got a medium build, brown hair, and a light stubble on his face. “I’m Charles.”
“Nice to meet you, I’m Ansley,” I say.
“Wine, right? Let me get you another glass,” Charles offers.
“Thank you,” I say, taking another drink to finish what’s left.
“I don’t date often,” Charles chuckles nervously. “Anyway, where are you from? Somewhere around here?”
“The suburbs,” I answer. “Grew up there, went away to college, and moved back to Chicago for work. I just got a job at York Financial.”
“No shit? They turned me down. I’m over at Pendleton,” he says.
“That was my number two,” I admit, reaching for the wine when Daisy brings it over. “I’ve heard it’s a good place to work.”
“We don’t have an Ice Queen,” he says. “But we still make money.”
We continue talking and he asks about my family life. I tell him the same story I tell everyone. My mother died when I was little. I’ve never met my father. Don’t even know his name. My mother took that to her grave, and like it usually does, talking about my family makes me a little sad. I have to blink away a couple of tears.
“Oh gosh, I’m terrible at dating,” Charles chuckles nervously. “I’m already making you cry. That usually doesn’t happen until I bore them to tears.”
“No, it’s fine,” I say, waving off his concern. “Why don’t you give me your number? We’re both in finance. Maybe we could get a drink sometime and continue to debate the finer points of working for the Ice Queen or Mr. Pendleton.”
“I’d love that,” he says, smiling as he writes down his number.
Charles is the best candidate so far. Mainly because I know we’d have something to talk about other than the things I hate discussing on first dates. After Charles walks away, Daisy approaches, but she has to hand out a couple of beers before she makes it to the end of the bar.
“So, how’s it going?” she asks, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Meet any interesting guys?”
“Maybe. I don’t know.” I shrug. “I mean, I didn’t feel any fireworks or anything. The last guy seems nice, but I’m not sure he’s Mr. Right.”
“Mr. Right Now could be good enough,” she teases. “No reason to sit around waiting for Mr. Right. If he comes along, he comes along. If he doesn’t, at least you could have some fun looking for him.”
“I suppose, but I’d still like to feel some kind of connection,” I sigh.
“You don’t need to feel a connection to get your cherry popped. Trust me,” Daisy giggles, giving me a nudge across the bar. “You’re old enough to start having fun, Ansley. Live a little! I’ll find your next date.”
“No, I’m done with that,” I say, shaking my head. “Plus, I can’t keep downing glasses of wine so they can buy me another one. I’m already feeling it.”
“Alright, suit yourself. I got people who need drinks!” Daisy hurries towards a guy who is trying to flag her down.
I spin my glass of wine, relieved that I don’t have to finish it quickly or sit through another conversation with some random guy. I kind of feel like I’m chickening out, but I collected a few phone numbers. I might actually give Charles a call. We’ll see if I still feel that way after the wine has worn off.
The night seems to drag on without Daisy sending eligible bachelors my way. I’ve never been a big fan of bars, especially when they’re this loud. I’ll have a headache tomorrow from the noise, even if I escape the wine hangover. Thank goodness I don’t have to work.
After discussing my family, some thoughts linger. It’s hard for me to remember my mom. I’m not sure I could actually remember her face if I didn’t have photographs. I remember a period of sadness. Lots of crying because she was gone. Lots of hugs from my grandmother. But eventually, life had to go on. My grandfather made sure of that.
Then I met Daisy, and it’s hard to be sad when she’s around.
“Ready for more wine?” Daisy asks, sliding over so fast it’s almost like she appears in front of me. “I promised you wouldn’t pay for one all night, and I meant it, so this one is on me.”
“I should probably go,” I sigh, sliding my glass towards her.
“What? It’s Friday night. The party has barely gotten started,” Daisy laughs. “One more glass, at least. If you want to go after that, I’ll walk you out. I’ll get Mac to come out of his office and watch the bar for me.”
“Alright, fine. One more glass,” I relent, nodding in agreement.
Some of the crowd at the bar thins and I feel a little more comfortable. Except I feel a strange sensation, like I’m being watched. I try to shake it off, then look around the bar. I’m sure it’s just the alcohol until I see a guy in the corner who actually is staring at me. We make eye contact for a moment, but I look away.
I take another sip of my wine and glance at him. His dark-eyed stare is still locked on me, and he’s hard to miss. I’m surprised I didn’t notice him when he came in. He’s got a thick, rugged physique, dressed in a long-sleeved red flannel shirt and jeans. His hair is black with hints of charcoal gray, tossed back like it’s intentionally meant to look messy. A beard that’s a shade darker adorns a chiseled jawline.
He reaches for his beer, not looking away, and nods to me before he takes a sip. I turn away again.
“Okay, we’re in a bar. It’s not that weird for someone to be staring at me. He probably saw me talking to a lot of different guys tonight,” I mutter to myself, taking a sip of my wine.
I feel a strange tingle between my legs. A pulsing heat in my core. That’s never happened before, and I don’t think it’s just the wine. None of my speed-dates made my body hum. I try to shake it off, but every time I glance over my shoulder, the man is still staring.
“I could go talk to him. Nothing wrong with that…” I think, with an internal sigh. “He’s pretty hot. Daisy would probably tell me to go for it. Hell, she’d probably run over there and drag him to the counter just so we could meet.”
I get up from the stool, but chicken out before I can convince myself to go through with it. Instead of walking over to him, I walk straight to the bathroom like it was my original destination.
The strange tingle is still there. The pulsing heat is too. I put my hands on the bathroom counter and take a deep breath.
“He doesn’t have to be Mr. Right,” I say, staring at myself in the mirror. “Just Mr. Right Now. That’s what Daisy said.”
Good advice? I’m not sure. But after gathering my courage in the bathroom, I decide I’ll go for it. He’s staring at me for a reason. I can introduce myself. There’s no harm in that. If it feels weird or I don’t feel a connection after talking to him, I’ll politely excuse myself.
I step out of the bathroom with all the courage I can muster, but then my heart sinks into my stomach. The seat he was in is empty, and so is his glass. I wait for a few minutes, just in case he went to the bathroom like I did, but after several guys go in and out, it doesn’t seem likely, so I return to the counter.
“Everything okay?” Daisy asks as she walks up to me.
“Yeah,” I say, glancing towards the empty chair. “Yes, everything’s fine. I’m ready to go, though. Walk me out?”
“Let me get Mac,” Daisy says, turning away. “Mac! Come watch the bar for a second!”
That appears to be all that getting Mac entails. Daisy walks around the bar, hooks her arm in mine, and we walk to the door. The fresh air feels good once we’re outside. Clean air, too, instead of the smoky city haze that has already made my throat somewhat scratchy.
“Call an Uber. I’ll wait with you,” Daisy says.
“I could… walk,” I say apprehensively, then a strange shudder sweeps through me. The same sensation I felt before I realized the man was staring at me. “No, you’re right. I’m wearing heels.”
I request an Uber through the app, then make small talk with Daisy while we wait. She’s excited about all the numbers I collected. She hopes I’ll actually use them. I’m still not sure. I’m not even sure I want to call Charles after the reaction I had to the other guy.
My Uber arrives and I say goodnight to Daisy as we hug each other tightly. Even after I get into the car, I still feel the strange sensation of being watched. With it comes the tingle and the pulse. I don’t understand why my body is reacting this way to someone I didn’t even talk to. For all I know, he would have been boring or annoying.
But the way he looked at me… what was that in his eyes? Hunger? I shudder just thinking about it. Nobody has ever looked at me like that, even the guys Daisy introduced me to tonight.
When the Uber pulls up in front of my apartment building, I feel the sensation again when I step out onto the sidewalk. I quickly hurry to my apartment building, but even when I get inside, I don’t breathe an easy breath until I’m back in my apartment with the door bolted shut.
Safe at home.
That’s where a girl like me belongs on Friday night.
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