“I’m not crying.”
“Sorry. You’re right. I’ve neverheardyou cry. What’d he say to you?”
I take a comforting sip. “Can you keep a secret? Like, this isn’t office gossip, not even my dad can find out.”
She nods. “Hit me.”
“Rich and I broke up,” I say.
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Seriously.” She gapes at me. Am I the only one who sees Rich and I aren’t actually that good together? “I mean, I know Rich is great and all, but I don’t think he and I—”
She waves a hand at me. “No, it’s not that. I just can’t believe he’s why you’re bawling. Your relationship seems so cut and dry.”
“Oh.” I sit back against the lip of the desk. “So you’re not surprised it’s over?”
She looks into her mug. “Should I not have said that? Since you’re my boss?”
“No, it’s . . . it’s okay. It’s good. I was worried for a minute that everyone would think this was a mistake but me.”
She shrugs. “If you’re not into it, why does it matter what anyone else says?”
For a split second, I consider telling her about Finn. It’s not really the kind of relationship she and I have, and I’m not even sure how she’d respond, but it would be nice to let my hair down and bitch. To share how completely blindsided I feel by his sudden flip in personality.
I pick up my phone and read his message.
I’m sorry. I’ll explain next time I see you.
Next time I see you? Is he implying maybe he’ll see me, maybe not? This is a complete one-eighty from this morning. I didn’t peg Finn to be the one-night stand type. We didn’t even have sex.
“So how long’s it been since you were single?” Benny asks.
I’ve had my fill of men for today. I put the phone down and return my attention to Benny. “Do you want to grab a drink?”
* * *
The bartender sets three martinis on the bar, one in front of each of us. “Extra dirty,” he says. “From the dude in the suit.”
“Which dude?” Benny asks. “They’re all in suits.”
I slow-blink at the bartender, pointing at my half-empty drink. “But I haven’t even finished this one.”
He shrugs as Benny laughs. “If I finished all the drinks men bought me, I’d never be upright.”
“I think that’s the point . . .?” Cara says.
Benny elbows her. “You know what I mean.”
I could get used to this girlfriend thing. I’m on my third cocktail of the night, and each one has been paid for by a different guy. Benny has serious flirtation skills. It could also be the slight Latin accent that flavors her words. Or her long, richly brown hair.
“Cara’s sleeping with her manager,” Benny explains, “otherwise she’d be more fun tonight.”
“At the firm?” I ask.
“No, I work nights at a restaurant in Meatpacking. I’d never sleep with the misogynistic asshole lawyers I work for. Dan’s a misogynistic asshole, but at least he’s not a lawyer.”
“She’s exaggerating,” Benny says. “Dan’s sweet, she just doesn’t like people to know it.”
