15 Nicole #2
“What’s yours of?” Nicole finally says, half swallowing the words as they come out, afraid she’s misread it.
Ellen leans forward, half whispering, “A stiletto. It’s on the side of my hip.” She leans back again. “You have any?”
Nicole blushes, not wanting to share the swallow on her shoulder, which was definitely not a dare but which she had agonized over for all of freshman year.
What should it be? How should it look? Where should it go?
She even got a temporary tattoo that she had Ollie help her reapply every few days to try out for a month before finally going through with it.
It’s cute, but she suspects Ellen would find it childish.
Especially considering the freedom and soaring to new heights she hoped it would represent do not seem to have come to pass yet.
The curtain to the room parts before she has to answer though. A waitress comes in, notepad ready.
“I’ll have a Manhattan,” Ellen says, her eyes still on Nicole, who suddenly can’t look away. “She’ll have a vodka martini with a twist. I’d like a steak frites, medium rare.”
“And you?” the waitress asks Nicole.
Nicole keeps her eyes on Ellen. No one has ever ordered a drink for her before, aside from a few skeezy guys. It was hot. Like twinge-between-her-legs hot.
“The same,” Nicole says, glancing down at the menu. She doesn’t know what she’s doing now. This is her boss! She tears her eyes away from Ellen to look up at the waitress. “Thank you. Where’s the bathroom?”
The waitress shows her the bathrooms down the hall, and Nicole locks herself in for a moment before taking out her phone.
NICOLE
Tattoo guy is dangerous. Ex special forces turned freelancer.
Also I think my boss is hitting on me.
IAN
That’s terrifying and hilarious
I mean the ex-special forces thing is terrifying and the boss hitting on you is hilarious.
NICOLE
I figured. Why is it hilarious?
IAN
Because you sound like Brandon
brANDON
Hey! A guest isn’t the same thing as my boss!
OLLIE
Is she hot?
I assume she
NICOLE
She is
brANDON
Go for it!
IAN
Do not take relationship advice from Brandon
Brandon disliked “Do not take relationship advice from Brandon”
NICOLE
I won’t
I’m just shocked
OLLIE
Why? You’re amazing and beautiful
Nicole smiles and takes a deep breath. Okay, she’ll go back out there, ignore the flirting. Get any other information she can.
NICOLE
I gotta go
IAN
Have fun fucking your boss
NICOLE
Shut up
She puts her phone away, washes her hands, and goes back to the small private room, where a martini is waiting on the table and Ellen has rearranged herself, lying back, legs crossed, the long line of her neck glowing as she sips her Manhattan.
“You all right?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, sorry. My friends texted.”
Ellen narrows her eyes, sitting up straighter. “They’re lying low?”
“I told them to.” She sits down and sips the martini. It tastes somehow purer than any drink she’s ever had, like she’s drinking from the source of all martinis, a waterfall somewhere. “They’re not great at it.”
Ellen frowns. “They get involved with dead bodies and then don’t have the sense to lie low?”
Nicole shrugs, suddenly feeling very small. She sips her drink but can feel Ellen’s eyes on her, questioning.
“You know, I grew up in California,” Ellen says, voice softer. “My parents owned a dry cleaner. But now look at me.” She gestures at her face, smiling. “Sometimes we rise above. But you have to want to.”
“Yeah,” Nicole says, nodding. She knows what Ellen is saying, and part of her is thankful for the advice, the mentoring. But what exactly is she asking Nicole to do? She leans back farther into her chair, and the leather squeaks. “Do you ever see your parents?”
“The holidays. And we text now and then. I appreciate who they were, but my life now—if I tried to include them, it would just be embarrassing for all of us. I have friends, colleagues, and people who understand me so much better than they ever could. And I don’t let them drag me down into their drama. ”
“Drama?”
“Oh”—Ellen sips—“family gossip, arguments. If they ever really need help, I help them, of course, but all their little complaints? I’ve made it clear I’m not the one they should go to. Boundaries.”
“Oh, yeah.” Nicole sips again. “That makes sense.”
“My point is, find people your level. You don’t have to give up old friends, family. But…people your own level will make you feel more at ease. More like yourself.”
“I don’t know if they came to me with a little complaint,” Nicole says, catching her drift. “They saw a body.”
“That disappeared,” Ellen says, taking the olive out of her drink and popping it in her mouth. “And now they’re out gallivanting when they should be hiding. It just feels… a little silly.”
“Yeah,” Nicole says, drinking again, hoping to drown the pit of shame in her stomach.
“And you’re not silly,” Ellen says, laying her hand on the table, reaching out to Nicole. Her red nails glint in the light.
“But they could be in real trouble.”
Ellen pulls her hand back and takes out her phone. “Maybe. Let’s find out.”