The music was subtle but loud enough to hear the lyrics. I loved the vibe at Groove Theory. They had the best food, a chill vibe, and a classy clientele. The music was never so loud that you couldn’t have a casual conversation, but it was loud enough that even when the bar was crowded, you could hear the music playing.
Sometimes, they brought in live musicians, and those were my favorite nights to come here and chill. Saturday nights were normally my date nights with my boyfriend, Bryson, but I needed a break from him this weekend. Luckily for me, he had a meeting with a high-profile client.
I loved my man, but I worried that his career might one day bring trouble our way. As a criminal defense attorney for some celebrities and other high-profile clients, he was often in the spotlight. Those weren’t the clients that I worried about though. It was the clients who were from the underworld parts of society that worried me.
Bryson defended big-time drug dealers, arms runners, members of the black mafia, and assassins. Those were the oneshe considered his bread and butter because they needed him more often than the celebrities. I couldn’t lie, he definitely got his clients off, and I had never known him to lose a case in the four years we had been together.
“This week has been shitty. Hell, this entire year has been a shitstorm. I’m tired of faking it, and I’m tired of being passed over for promotion. Hell, I’m just tired of my life altogether.”
“Wait a minute, heffa. I know you’re not saying what I think you are,” my colleague, Lupita, declared, rolling her neck and leaning back on her barstool.
“No. I’m not talking about the S word. You know me better than that. I mean, I love me and all. I’m just not feeling my life right now,” I replied.
“Sounds like you need a change, boo. Maybe you need to hire a life coach or something,” Sylvie, my cousin, suggested.
“Mm, . . . or maybe she needs to hire some new dick,” Fiona, my best friend, interjected.
“Hell no. It’s always about some new dick with you,” Sylvie replied.
“Well, that old dick gets boring and tiresome,” Fiona explained.
“Or maybe she and Bryse could just spice it up in the bedroom and find some new ways to bring happiness and excitement back into their lives,” Lupita shared.
“Or maybe it’s not any of that. I feel like I’m back in the same position I’ve always been in. I have to choose between my career and a man.”
“Is this about the new position you’ve been going for at work?” Lupita asked, knowingly.
“Yes,” I replied dryly. “I’ve worked my ass off as an editorial assistant for the last five years. I went from an editorial intern to a fashion assistant to an editorial assistant in the last seven years. I’m dedicated to my career, and I’m passionate aboutwhat I do. He’s known that since he met me. There was a time when he admired my tenacity and my dedication to my career.
“I don’t say shit about those criminals he represents or those lying ass, cheating ass celebrities. Do I complain when he works late nights or meets clients at the booty bar? Hell no. So why is he griping about my long hours or me not being home enough? He knows what this promotion means to me. And with Milicent about to retire, I am not about to miss my damn opportunity. Don’t give a shit what he says.” I huffed out a long breath after my snap session.
“Girl, you need to have another drink and unwind. We’re not here to focus on Bryse’s selfish ass tonight. Tonight, we’re celebrating you, boo, because we know that you’re going to get that promotion and rock!” Sylvie declared, raising her drink in the air while waving the bartender over with her free hand and then pointing at me.
“Here! Here!” Fiona chimed in.
“You’ve got this. You’re going to win that promotion, and you’re going to rock at it. I’m so proud of how hard you’ve worked, and I know that the board and Carolyn will make the right decision,” Lupita declared, putting her arm around me.
The bartender brought me another drink and took my glass. I tapped it with my girls’ glasses and tossed it back. We had a few shots before Sylvie started hiccupping.
“Your ass is drunk already?” Fiona asked.
“Don’t act like you’re not. Shit, we’ve been drinking the last few hours,” Sylvie stated.
“Good thing we took the limo service tonight,” Lupita pronounced, giggling drunkenly.
“That’s right, girl. We need to get our asses up and dance,” Sylvie slurred, slipping off her stool.
“I gotta piss.” I slurred my words, holding onto the edge of the bar as I carefully climbed off it.
“You need someone to go with you?” Lupita asked.
“No, I’m good, boo.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah.”
I slowly walked to the restroom in my four-inch stilettos, careful not to tip over and fall. Even using the restroom was a balancing act because they were out of the disposable toilet seat covers. Trying to hover over the toilet without breaking my damn heels and neck at the same time was a delicate balancing act. I had to pee too badly to rip off strips of toilet paper and cover the seat. I doubted that I would have been able to position them on the seat without screwing that up anyway. I was drunk as hell.
