3
Tiff
Iwas still thinking about the meeting as I waited for Audrey to rock up at my place.Stupid smug Sam and his floppy hair and arrogant attitude and little hoop earrings (what was he?A freaking pirate?).
And that outfit?So polished and primped.He probably wore shorts on the weekend and played tennis, the bastard.I bet he’d never worked a day in his life.
Telling me I’d overstepped with Harry and that if I didn’t like it, I could quit.
The fucking gall he had to act all nice in front of the others when he was really a sadistic asshole.And what the hell had Harry told him about me?
I measured out an extra shot of espresso tequila and added it to the espresso martini I was mixing.Ever since the conversation with Sam, I’d been craving one.I couldn’t help but make it a little interesting, adding a cold brew from my favorite artisan coffee place and a splash of Irish cream.
It tasted like tiramisu, and my first thought was that I would love to add it to the menu.
Then, I remembered.
Fucking.Sam.
At the sound of my phone ringing across the room, I put the cocktail shaker down and ran over to answer it, smiling at the sight of my girlfriend’s ID.
“Hi, sexy.”
“Hey.How did the meeting go?”
I groaned.“Terrible.He’s a pompous, pretentious ass.”
“Please tell me you didn’t say that to his face.”
My spine bristled at the implication.It wasn’t far off, but her tone, that implicit judgment, made me defensive.“Not in so many words.”
“Geez, Tiff.I’m surprised he didn’t fire you.”Guess I won’t mention that he’d threatened to.“You need to learn to be nicer when you dislike people.It’s not a crime, you know.It’s actually the normal thing.”She chuckled, but all I felt was cold.
“Maybe I like not being normal.”Whatever that was.
“One day, it’s going to bite you in the ass.”
I swallowed my irritation, glad she couldn’t see me.We’d had this same conversation too many times.Why couldn’t I be more like other people?Why did I always have to say what I was thinking?I was starting to wonder whether I’d ever measure up to the image Hannah had in her head.If I even wanted to.
“Did you at least manage to get the night off next weekend as you promised?”
Shit.Fuck.Damn.“Shit, no.I forgot, but I’ll make it happen.”
“Tiff, you know how important this is to me.My parents are only in town for two days, and I’ve already booked dinner.I told them you’d be there.”
“It’ll be fine.I’ll be there,” I promised before turning on a sultry tone.“I’m not working tonight.Did you want to come over after Audrey leaves?I miss you.”
“And deal with your tipsy ass?No, thank you.I know how you two get.”
“You like my ass.”
She giggled.“It’s alright.Besides, I’m heading over to KC’s to hate-watch MAFS.It’ll be too late to come back across town by the time we’re finished.”
Ah, KC.Hannah’s best friend.She was … I wanted to say nice, but honestly, I couldn’t remember ever hearing her say anything nice.Ever.About anyone.
They both majored in art history, and when Hannah had started an internship at the Art Institute, KC had followed.When Hannah had finished the internship and taken a job at the Museum of Contemporary Art, so had KC.They loved hate-watching dating shows, judging all things art (and people), and I knew getting into KC’s good books was a major stepping stone to making my relationship with Hannah last.
The problem was that KC seemed not to like me very much.
