Harley leads us into the bar, and a host takes us out to the back patio. We slide into seats across from each other, and I immediately reach for the drinks menu. The April evening air is just the right amount of chilly, but I’m going to need to either start drinking or put on my jacket, and I really don’t want to detract from my cute outfit: army-green cargo pants fitted through the calf and loose around my hips, paired with a black tank top and lots of gold jewelry.
So drinks it is. I order two different cocktails while Harley requests a sparkling water.
I shoot her a death-beam glare.
“I have to work tomorrow. Justice doesn’t serve itself.” She gives me an apologetic shrug. “I’m sure Nick will be happy to get wasted with you.”
“Speak of the devil.” I raise my eyebrows suggestively at Harley while raising my hand to wave to Nick.
Nick is everything I normally like in a man: tall, muscular, floppy brown hair, family money, and a gorgeous smile. He looks like a 2005 Abercrombie ad threw up all over him, spray tan and all. Unfortunately, he’s also the nicest guy I’ve ever met, which totally zaps all my sexual tingles. Luckily, his cinnamon-roll core wasn’t immediately obvious when we shared a class together freshman year at Columbia, otherwise I never would’ve propositioned him. When he politely asked to get to know me better first, I knew there was no future for us, and he quickly became one of my best friends in the world, the perfect complement to the trio Harley, Gem, and I automatically formed as suitemates.
“How are two of my three best gals?” He leans over and kisses each of us on the cheek before taking the seat next to Harley.
“Thanks for trekking all the way to Brooklyn, Nicky.” He hates that nickname, so of course it’s the only thing I call him. “I just needed to get away from anything even remotely connected to work.” Which includes my apartment smack-dab in the middle of bros-of-finance central.
“I just spent an hour on the packed-to-the-absolute-gills subwaywhen I could’ve been at home relaxing with a beer and baseball, so yeah, you’re welcome.” He signals the waiter and politely orders a beer and three different appetizers. He doesn’t ask us what we want, already knowing exactly what we would order.
“Oh my god, I swear, teenagers are the fucking worst!” Gemma makes this declaration from across the patio as she walks through a crowd toward our table, scattering people as she goes. “Seriously, how many more days left of school, because I’m about to fucking murder some of these hormonal motherfuckers.” Gemma keeps her potty mouth in check all day long in her classroom and therefore tends to swear like a Real Housewife of New Jersey whenever free of impressionable preteens. She plops into the seat next to me, banging her head on the table, her thick, straight black hair falling in a shiny curtain around her face. Petite, Korean American, and sassy as hell, Gemma has never been shy about expressing her feelings. I basically want to be her when I grow up.
Harley reaches across the table and pats her head soothingly. “A few more weeks, Gem. You got this.”
As Harley moves her arm back to take a sip of her water, she brushes up against Nick’s hulking biceps. She bites her lip and averts her eyes while he not so subtly shifts his arm even closer to her.
Ugh. I wish those two would just bone already. But they’re both too damn nice to just hit it and quit it, so the whole thing would probably end up turning into some disgusting lovefest, ultimately resulting in me in an ill-fitting pink bridesmaid’s dress.
Hmm. Maybe if I start being nicer to Nick, he’ll consider making me a groomswoman. I could definitely rock a suit.
“Anyway. Enough tales of woe from the classroom, Ms. Kwon. Backto me.” I tug on Gemma’s arm until she sits up. Then I hand her my second cocktail. Because I am a giver.
Nick takes a long swig of his beer. “Give it to us, Sade.”
I can’t bring myself to look any of them in the eye, so I focus on the small centerpiece—a succulent planted in a low glass jar—instead. “I didn’t get the promotion. Bill gave it to his future son-in-law.” Oof. It hurt earlier, but saying the words aloud is a sucker punch to the gut.
They draw in a collective breath.
Nick recovers first. “What the fuck, Sadie.” He reaches across the table and squeezes my hand. “I’m so sorry. That’s completely fucked up.”
“Did Bill say anything?” Harley asks. “Give you any kind of explanation?”
Gemma throws her arm around my shoulder. “What explanation is there other than nepotism and the patriarchy?”
I let myself sink into her hold for a second, then pull myself upright. “That’s not the end of it.” I take a sip of my cocktail. “I sort of blew up in the meeting and dropped a bunch of F-bombs, and he fired me.”
Their mouths drop open in perfect synchronization.
Gemma speaks first. “What a fucking dick.”
“The crazy thing is, until today, he totally wasn’t a dick. He gave me a job right out of college. He’s always supported me. He’s never once hit on me.”
Nick scoffs into his beer. “He’s not a dick because he’s never hit on you? Is the bar really so low?”
“Yes,” the three of us answer in unison.
Our server brings over an armload of plates, laden down with appetizers, saving Nick from a lecture on the evils of men. The server piles everything in the middle, and we all dive in, everyone helpingthemselves. I order another drink because all this food is going to dull the slight buzz I’ve worked up between my first cocktail and the wine I had back at home, and we absolutely can’t have that.
“What are you going to do?” Harley hands me a fried chicken slider, as if she knows I’m going to need some carbs to soak up the alcohol I’m planning on imbibing.
I shove half the slider in my mouth in one bite, avoiding answering her question. A question I’ve been asking myself since the moment Bill made his announcement. I finally swallow and shrug, as if this whole situation isn’t the most devastating thing that’s happened to me since I left home for college. “I have a little bit in savings, so between that and credit cards, I’ll be okay for a couple months while I look for another job.” Because instead of finally getting out of debt, now I’ll be falling farther down the hole.
