17. Dylan
17
DYLAN
W hen we walk into the swanky bar, I’m immediately drawn to the sexiness that it exudes. The dimly lit room is decorated with black and white marble-like tiled floors, inviting rust orange velvet chairs and half moon couches, and low gold tables, each topped with a tealight candle. The arched walls are lined with tall palms and birds of paradise, giving the ambiance a tropical feel. The bar, situated on the right-hand side of the room, has countless bottles of liquor displayed, with even more plants draped across the top.
As we’re led to our booth, I feel like I’ve been transported halfway across the world. I can’t keep my eyes from wandering as we take a seat.
“Why didn’t you tell me it would be this gorgeous?”
“It’s beautiful, right? I learned about it a couple of weeks ago, but my schedule has been too crazy to stop by.”
Being friends with Scarlett has its many perks. Aside from her being the ultimate ride-or-die friend, she’s also the queen of finding the hottest restaurants and bars in the city, so it comes as no surprise that this is another one of her recommendations.
I grab the menu and begin scanning my eyes down, immediately stopping when I spot the martini made with olive oil-infused vodka. That’s all I need to see to know that this is going to become a new after-work staple.
I hand the menu to Scarlett, who only takes seconds to look before closing it, having settled on the same cocktail. Shortly after the waiter comes by, and we order our drinks, she leans forward, resting her entire upper torso on the table.
“Okay, tell me more about this tour. Why is she having you go on the tour when Evelyn is perfectly capable of handling it herself? Especially if Parker is already going to be there?” she wonders.
“Your guess is as good as mine. She said that she spoke with Evelyn, and she seems to think it’s best that I be there to oversee. If it were up to Katherine, you’d be on the job.”
“I doubt that.”
“Oh no, those were her words exactly.”
At that moment, the waiter drops off our drinks and I swiftly pick it up, careful not to spill a drop, as I take a big gulp. The vodka warms my throat, immediately making me feel airy–like I’m floating on a cloud. Fuck, that’s delicious.
“God, that’s good,” Scarlett vocalizes my same thoughts as she places her drink back down on the table and picks up her phone, tapping around on the screen before setting it back down face down. “Is this the worst thing that can happen? It seems like you guys have been getting along pretty well lately. One could argue you two might have even started a new friendship?”
At that, I take another large swing of my martini, letting the burn settle my mind. And my tongue. “Ahh yes, more Team Parker talk.”
“Babe, I love you. You know that I’ve got your back one hundred percent, no questions asked. But I feel like you’re letting him dictate your life. I understand it was shocking initially to learn that you two had to work together, but it’s been over a month now. I feel like your life would be so much easier if you’d stop being so stubborn about working together.” She raises her pointer finger to hold that thought while she swallows another sip of her drink.
“From what I’ve seen, you’ve both been on your best behavior, and I know that your job is important to you. You wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize it. So why not just lighten up a little? Sure, you’ll be on tour, but it’s not like you guys have to share a hotel room or anything. This isn’t some romance novel of yours. You two can work together in a very professional manner and make Katherine eat her words.”
As her words settle in, I find myself chewing loose skin on the side of my nail. A habit that I’ve had since I was a little girl. When I take a step back and think objectively, Parker and I have formed somewhat of a friendship–even if it is somewhat surface-level. We know we work well together, and ever since I put my foot down after lunch, he has been very well-mannered.
The real question is whether or not I can stomach being friends. We’re already halfway there without realizing it, so there’s no reason not to. He’s in a relationship and seems to be doing well in life, and I’m working on getting to that same point in my own.
Work gives me the migraine of a lifetime, but I have loved every second of the city so far, and I’m willing to make those sacrifices, knowing that one day, I’ll no longer have to deal with Katherine and will meet the love of my life.
I huff out a breath and take the last dreg of my martini, feeling infinitely lighter than I did when I sat down. As I’m about to ask Scarlett, who has also just finished her drink, if it’s a more-than-one-drink kind of night, I hear a familiar voice from behind me. Before I glance over my shoulder to see the owner, I catch the look on Scarlett’s face. She’s absolutely incandescent, hearts in her eyes.
I twist my body, gripping the back of my seat to see Blake strolling in, looking as good as always. His white cable knit polo is tucked into a pair of navy chinos. The ensemble is finished off with a pair of chocolate brown oxfords. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was a model that just got done with a shoot for J. Crew.
Where Parker is a little rough around the edges, Blake is a pretty boy. It makes me question–in what world are two best friends that good-looking? I don’t know what the world had planned when it brought them together, but it gave them far too much power. If Parker were single, I’d be half tempted to buy a billboard in Times Square warning the women of Manhattan about the two of them, especially when they’re in the same room.
I turn back to Scarlett, who’s discreetly touching up her lipstick in a small compact that she carries with her everywhere she goes. I clear my throat quietly to catch her attention, and she immediately puts the mirror back in her purse and tries to look uninterested in Blake, who’s now walking over to our table. I give her a gentle kick under the table, lips pursed.
“Did you know that he was going to be here?” I hiss.
“Of course not. Now, be nice.” She fluffs her hair and throws a dazzling smile in Blake’s direction.
“Well, look at what the cat dragged in.” Scarlett leans forward, making a point to push her cleavage together in her low-cut, vintage designer dress.
“The cat has great taste. Can’t blame it for trying to show off.” He slides into the booth beside Scarlett, forcing her closer to the table next to us. She lets out a giggle you’d expect to hear from a schoolgirl, and I can’t help but stare, stupefied, as heat rises to the apples of her cheeks. It’s official. I’m in the twilight zone. Scarlett and Blake are visibly flirting in front of me as if I don’t exist.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, striving to keep my voice as calm and collected as possible but failing miserably. I’ve kept it together around him in every other setting, so I excuse this one slip-up.
“I was told they have great martinis. I had to check it out myself.” He offers me a genuine grin before throwing an arm on the back of the booth behind Scarlett. My eyes flash to his hand, which has begun rubbing small circles on her bare shoulder.
Our waiter returns to the table, and I immediately order another drink. If I have to sit here and witness Scarlett and Blake eye-fucking one another, I need a little more in my system. When it’s Scarlett’s turn, she orders herself a second.
“I’ll have two of whatever they’re drinking,” Blake courteously says to the server as he points toward our empty glasses.
My blood runs cold, but I try not to panic. Why would he be ordering two when Scarlett clearly just ordered a second right in front of him? I bounce my leg, hopeful that the movement will help ease some of my anxiety (it doesn’t). It wouldn’t be the end of the world if Parker showed up–especially now that I’ve decided to give us a true shot at friendship. Though, I say that in the loosest way possible.
“Do I have to spend the evening watching you two eye fuck one another this entire time? That’s not what I agreed to when I said I’d go out for a drink after work,” Parker’s voice calls from behind me.
Well, I guess that answers my question. I let out a titter under my breath despite myself, happy to know that someone else feels the same way I do about how this happy hour is shaping up.
“Guilty as charged. I was just admiring the view. Can you blame me?” Blake croons, his eyes not leaving Scarlett’s once. She turns to me, eyes wide, face flushed, lips pressed together tightly to hold back a smile I know she’s dying to show. I’ve never seen someone this anti-men completely fold under the attention of one of the most promiscuous men to walk this planet.
Parker rolls his eyes and grabs a chair from the empty table next to us. Before bringing it over to our table, he bends closer to me and nods to the vacant space beside me. ”Hi. Is it alright if I sit next to you?”
Curse him for being polite. I’d expect nothing less.
When we were together, he was always the one opening my doors, paying for dinner, and surprising me with flowers when I least expected it. Growing up in a small town, you quickly learn that men are raised to treat women with respect. I’ve been avoiding the dating scene like a plague, but I can confidently say that the men here in New York do not share that same sentiment.
“Of course.” I shift my chair to the left, making room for him. He pulls up next to me and sits down before glancing back in my direction, holding eye contact with me for a second too long, yet I can’t look away.
“Hi,” he whispers again. The intensity of his gaze has me in a chokehold that leaves me tongue-tied. His eyes fall down to my lips, and I slowly lick my lips under the pressure of his unwavering stare. The movement is small, but I notice how his chest expands with an inaudible gasp.
“Hi,” I whisper back. Any logical person would say something else–keep the conversation going. But it feels like my brain has turned into mush, and any thought I’ve ever had has been erased from my mind.
“You’re going to give us shit when you two won’t stop drooling over one another? Should I ask them if they have bibs?” Blake’s voice snaps me out of my trance. He’s wearing a sneer, and I suppress the urge to roll my eyes. The worst part is that he’s not wrong, and I hate him for that. I sneak a look at Scarlett, and she’s wearing the same look on her face.
“Shut up, man.” Parker laughs, shaking his head. Our waiter returns and drops off our four martinis, and I quickly but carefully reach for another sip. Now that Parker’s here, I have to walk a very fine line between easing my apprehension and getting too tipsy and making a fool of myself.
“Did you hear the news?” I spin back to Parker, who’s now leaning back in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. He looks completely at ease with how close we are to one another. Meanwhile, I’m trying to get my resting heart rate back to normal, or else I’m going to end up in the hospital.
“What news?”
“I’m going on the book tour with you,” I blurt out. There’s no use in sugar-coating it. Besides, there’s a good chance he already knows about it.
Unfortunately, I chose an extremely inopportune time to tell him this, and judging by his reaction, he had no clue. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, he’s choking on the martini he just took his first sip of. I pat him on the back, doing little to ease his sputtering coughs.
I know I didn’t take the news well either, but I at least didn’t have a visceral reaction in front of the other person involved.
He hits his chest and sets down his drink as his breathing slowly steadies. I shift to the side of my chair, trying to put as much space between us as possible. His eyes flicker with regret as they meet mine, and I internalize my own.
“I’m sorry. That was an overreaction. I just wasn’t expecting that.”
Scarlett chortles. “You could say that again.”
I glower, but she doesn’t look in my direction to catch the venom I’m directing at her. I need a breather .
“If you’ll excuse me. I need to use the restroom.” I push out of my chair and beeline it to the bathroom.
That went very differently in my head.