21
Amanda was halfway through deciding what to make for dinner when her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen, expecting a message from Samantha, but her stomach flipped when she saw the name instead.
Ericka: Be ready at 7. I'll be outside waiting.
Amanda blinked.
That was it? No explanation? No warning?
She checked the time. 6:22 PM.
"What the hell?" she muttered, staring at the message like it might suddenly rewrite itself with more details.
She considered ignoring it, but who was she kidding?
Amanda sighed, already heading to her bedroom. If she was going to go along with whatever this was, she wasn't about to show up looking like she'd just spent her evening debating between takeout and microwaving leftovers.
Casual. It had to be casual.
She threw open her closet, rifling through her options before settling on a simple but fitted white tank top, a cropped leather jacket, and high-waisted jeans. She kept her makeup light but added just enough mascara and lip gloss to make it seem like she hadn't just rushed to get ready.
By the time 6:58 rolled around, she was standing by her window, debating how bad of an idea this was.
Then, right on cue, her phone buzzed again.
Ericka: I'm outside.
Amanda peeked through the blinds and sure enough, there it was.
A sleek black car, parked directly in front of her building. The back passenger door was open, as if waiting for her.
Her stomach twisted—a mix of curiosity and something else she didn't want to name.
She grabbed her phone and purse, inhaling deeply before heading downstairs.
When she stepped outside, Ericka was already there, standing beside the car, speaking quietly to her driver.
Amanda slowed her steps, taking her in.
Gone was the usual polished suit. Instead, Ericka wore a dark blouse tucked into slim-fit jeans, sleeves casually rolled up, hair styled in effortless waves.
She looked... unfairly good.
Ericka's eyes flicked over Amanda's outfit as she straightened. "Right on time."
Amanda crossed her arms. "Are you going to tell me where we're going?"
Ericka smirked, gesturing toward the open door. "Get in, and you'll find out."
Amanda exhaled sharply but slid into the seat.
As Ericka followed her inside and the driver shut the door behind them
Ericka settled beside her, effortlessly composed, as if this were nothing more than a routine outing. The driver pulled away from the curb, merging onto the road with practiced ease.
Amanda, on the other hand, was still trying to figure out exactly what she had just agreed to.
She turned to Ericka, arms crossed. "So, do I get to know where we're going, or is this some kind of weird kidnapping situation?"
Ericka's lips twitched. "If it were a kidnapping, I wouldn't have told you to be ready."
Amanda rolled her eyes. "Comforting."
Ericka leaned back against the seat, crossing one leg over the other. "You like surprises, don't you?"
Amanda scoffed. "Not really."
Ericka hummed, studying her for a moment. "Then consider this a lesson in spontaneity."
Amanda narrowed her eyes. "You like giving me lessons."
Ericka smirked. "I like keeping you on your toes."
Amanda exhaled, shaking her head. "So, what? This is my next challenge?"
Ericka tilted her head slightly, considering. "Part of it."
Amanda wanted to press further, to demand details, but something told her she wasn't going to get any real answers—not yet, anyway.
Instead, she shifted her attention to the passing city lights, trying to piece together where they were headed. They had taken a turn away from downtown, the familiar high-rises fading into smaller streets lined with warm, glowing storefronts.
It wasn't fancy. It wasn't business.
It was... different.
Amanda glanced back at Ericka. "No five-star restaurant? No exclusive event?"
Ericka smirked. "Disappointed?"
Amanda hesitated. "Curious."
The car slowed as they approached a row of small but lively establishments, neon signs buzzing softly against the night sky. The streets were busy but relaxed, filled with people enjoying their evening without the usual rush of the city.
The driver pulled to a stop in front of a cozy-looking venue with a rustic charm, the words "Mason's Tavern" glowing above the entrance in warm, golden letters.
Amanda blinked. "A bar?"
Ericka reached for the door handle, glancing at her with an unreadable expression. "Not just any bar."
Amanda stepped out of the car, the warm evening air wrapping around her as she took in the place Ericka had brought her to.
Mason's Tavern wasn't sleek or polished like the venues she would have expected Ericka to frequent.
It had an old-school charm—brick exterior, wooden doors, and string lights hanging above the entrance.
Inside, the soft hum of conversation and laughter mixed with the low strum of a live acoustic set playing in the background.
It felt... comfortable. Unpretentious.
Amanda turned to Ericka, raising an eyebrow. "This is not what I was expecting."
Ericka smirked as she adjusted the sleeve of her blouse. "Good."
Amanda exhaled, shaking her head. "So, what's the deal? This some kind of hidden VIP lounge I don't know about?"
"No VIP," Ericka said simply, nodding toward the entrance. "Just a good bar. A favorite of mine."
Amanda faltered slightly. A favorite?
She studied Ericka for a moment. The woman who normally thrived in high-rise offices, expensive restaurants, and carefully curated environments... had a favorite bar?
And not just any bar—this bar?
Amanda tried not to read too much into it as she followed Ericka inside.
The moment they stepped through the doors, the atmosphere shifted around them.
Warm lighting, rich wooden interiors, and the faint scent of whiskey and citrus filled the space.
A few groups were gathered at the bar, while others were scattered around small, round tables, engaged in easy conversation.
A bartender, a man in his mid-40s with a graying beard, glanced up from behind the counter and immediately smiled when he spotted Ericka.
"Well, well," he said, setting down a glass. "Look what the wind blew in."
Amanda's head snapped toward Ericka in surprise.
She's a regular?
Ericka offered a small smile, one that looked far too easy and natural compared to the polished demeanor Amanda was used to. "Evening, Mason."
Mason shook his head with an amused chuckle. "You still remember how to unwind, or do I need to remind you?"
Ericka hummed. "We'll see." She turned to Amanda. "What are you drinking?"
Amanda blinked, still processing that Ericka actually had a casual rapport with a bartender.
She quickly recovered, shifting her attention back to the menu behind the bar. "Whiskey sour," she decided.
Mason nodded, already reaching for a glass. "And for you?"
Ericka tapped her fingers lightly against the bar. "Old fashioned."
Amanda tried not to let her mind linger on how effortlessly smooth that choice was.
Mason set about making their drinks while Amanda leaned in slightly. "So... you've been holding out on me."
Ericka glanced at her. "How so?"
Amanda gestured vaguely to the bar. "I never would've guessed this was your kind of place."
Ericka smirked, shifting so that her elbow rested lightly against the counter. "That's because you're still making assumptions about me."
Amanda exhaled, shaking her head. "You love proving me wrong, don't you?"
"I do."
The response was so direct, so casual, that Amanda couldn't help but laugh.
Before she could respond, Mason set their drinks in front of them, along with a knowing look toward Ericka. "Don't go easy on her," he teased.
Amanda narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Mason chuckled, glancing between them. "Just that when Ericka brings someone here, there's usually a reason."
Amanda turned to Ericka, curiosity burning in her chest. "That true?"
Ericka lifted her glass, taking a slow sip before meeting Amanda's gaze. "You tell me."