Got it. I’m already downtown at the condo. Be there in a couple.
I sendoff a quick text to the brunette to tell her something’s just come up. Canceling will save me trying to remember her name and explaining my way out of dinner. Although it will mean the loss of what I’m pretty sure would have been a hot one-night stand considering I rain-checked the offer to blow me in the bathroom the night I met her.
But my friends come first, and Xander doesn’t ask for favors often. More importantly, Scarlett is my favorite off-limits torment and any chance I get to return the irritation is one I’ll take. So if she needs rescuing on her birthday, I’m there.
When I getto the restaurant the host takes me to the table. I greet Xander who introduces me to an awkward couple who seem a little too dazzled by our job titles for my liking. I flash smiles and make small talk for a moment to try and play the nice guy, but then I ask for Scarlett. Fictionally speaking, I’m her boyfriend and she’d be my first concern.
Xander tells me they went down to the bar for a quick minute. I excuse myself and walk down the stairs, spotting the two of them at the bar and pausing to watch her from across the room for a moment before I approach, and our sparring session starts.
Scarlett’s long legs are on full display in the dress she’s wearing, one that makes her look like a fucking smoke show. She looks like a modern-day Rita Hayworth during her redhead era and apparently, I have a weakness for it. That and the Mary Jane heels she has on with the thigh highs that have the seam up the back giving her that vintage edge that she always manages to pull off so well. The one that always has me dying to find out what kind of dress-up she likes to play behind closed doors. If I could ever get her to play with me, which would probably be the longest shot of my career. So absurdly unlikely it’s not worth talking about.
We have more in common than she thinks we do, but I also know she’s a good girl who’s a lot like Harper. She wants things I can’t ever give her and that means that I have to keep my distance. Remind myself why I can’t ever have more than our banter whenever Xander and Harper force the two of us back into a room together—like tonight.
THREE
Scarlett
“Okay.Okay. I’m sorry. Listen. Let’s go to the bar, do a couple of shots really quick, and go back to the table. You can ride the rest of dinner out tipsy, and then we’ll ditch everyone else and have cake at my place. After that, the night’s up to you. But there is insanely delicious food on the menu, and I’ve been dying to come here with you. Plus, you’re here and you’re gorgeous, so… let’s make the best of it?” Harper argues her cause.
“I will get you back for this. If he’s an ass or makes this worse, I’m still leaving out a back door.”
“I owe you. Big. Huge. Probably be repaying this debt for centuries. But I promise we’re going to salvage the evening somehow. Okay?”
I take a deep breath. Salvaging the evening is the last thing I want to do. But I also don’t want to be a giant crybaby who runs home, even if it is my first instinct. I can do this. Couple of shots. Delicious food. I could ignore the man I now hate, and the one I’ve hated for some time and still have a semi-decent night. I can do it if I just believe in it.
I nod, and Harper hugs me.
“I love you, and I’m so sorry I made such a mess. Let’s get you some shots.”
We sidle up to the bar, and Harper waves down one of the bartenders. It’s dark and cozy in here, black and gold Art Deco motifs decorate the bar and seating. It feels like the kind of place you order delicate handcrafted cocktails—not shots. But I’ll take any alcohol I can quickly down. At this point, I’m not picky.
I’m busy staring out into the abyss of the dark room, contemplating how my life got to this point on my thirtieth birthday when the bartender reappears with a small tray from the other side of the bar.
“Shots!” Harper slides the drinks to me across the granite, two green and two golden.
“What’s this?” I hold the oversized shot up.
“Four Horsemen and a Scooby Snack to wash it down for old time's sake.” Harper grins at me.
“You asked the bartender here for Scooby Snacks?” I laugh.
“I told them you were having an awful birthday. They were happy to help.”
“You realize we’re not young enough for this anymore, right? This is gonna hurt in the morning and some of us still have to go to work?”
“We’ll get you hydrated and patched up before the night’s over, but we have to properly welcome you into your thirties.”
“I think the horsemen are gonna properly welcome me to hell.” I hold the glass up and the light from behind the bar prisms through it.
“You got this. To another fantastic decade!” She holds up her shot and we clink glasses and toss them back.
I press my eyes tight as the whiskey burns its way down my throat, blindly reaching for the sweet shot to chase it. The sugary liquid coats the harsh burn, but the taste is still unforgiving on my tongue. I frown and Harper hands me a lime to bite into.
“It’s not tequila, Harp.” I grimace.
“Yes, but you know it’s my go-to. Works like a charm. Just suck on it for a minute, and the fruit will neutralize it.” She pops one in her mouth.
“Fine. I’ll suck on it.” I roll my eyes because I’m not a believer, but I do it anyway because I love my bestie. She always has some trick up her sleeve for almost any situation. One of the many things I love about her.
