“Here, do you want to order?” she asks, handing me a menu. She’s already got a drink in front of her.
I look around and spy a single waitress at the other end of the room. It feels like it’s going to be a while before she gets around to our table again. No matter, I’m in no hurry.
“What, you’re not looking for someone to spend the night with?” Rebecca prods.
“No thanks,” I say, thinking about Francisco. “My life is complicated enough.”
“Or maybe,” Rebecca cuts in, harpooning my nighttime fantasies, “you’re thinking about a certain cute law student.”
I wrinkle my nose. “Actually, no. He’s sweet, but not really my type.”
“Tell me about him,” Rebecca demands.
I’m excited to share some of my thoughts, but I’m careful not to say too much. I know Francisco wouldn’t appreciate me spreading the word about all his money. But I decide that a little bit of detail can’t hurt.
“He’s rich,” I say.
“How rich?” Rebecca asks, leaning forward.
“Very,” I answer. “And he’s a little bit unfocused. I kind of get the feeling that becoming a lawyer is just the latest in a long line of attempts to please his father.”
“Ah,” Rebecca says. “That kind of guy.”
“Exactly,” I respond.
“And how did you meet him?” Rebecca pushes me for information.
“Like I said,” I reply, referencing an earlier conversation. “We ran into each other on the street. I was having a bad day, and he offered to buy me a cup of coffee.”
“Girl, I can’t believe you got a job offer thanks to a meltdown in public,” Rebecca teases.
“I didn’t have a meltdown,” I object.
“I wasn’t there,” she allows me a bit of dignity, “but I’m pretty sure that you did.”
“You’re the worst,” I declare, but I don’t mean it.
“Hi there, my name is Mandi,” the waitress introduces herself, looking harried yet pleasant all at the same time. She’s about my age and thin as a rail. “What can I get for you?”
“I’ll have a vodka martini,” I say.
“Can I get you anything else?” she asks Rebecca.
“No thanks,” Rebecca says.
“Another glass of wine?” the waitress insists.
“Sure,” Rebecca caves. “And the phone number of that guy over there.” She points at the construction worker.
“You’re on your own there,” Mandi says, perking up. She walks away to get our drinks, leaving me and Rebecca to hash over our respective careers together.
“So tell me about your job,” I say.
“It’s not nearly as exciting,” Rebecca scoffs. “All I did was go in for a regular job interview.”
“Yeah, but you got the job,” I remind her. “That’s the important part.”
“Yeah,” Rebecca says wistfully. “I just wish I had some time off before it starts, but I’ve got to be in the office on Monday.”
