Anna tried to smile at the waitress. “Can I have a small salad please?”
Cookie and Mitch ordered. Jules waved off food, asking for a rum and Coke instead. Brad added fries and onion rings to his demands. The waitress tucked her order pad into her apron and scurried away.
Anna glanced at Jules.
“Stop looking at me like that.” Jules snatched her glass and took a huge gulp. Ice cascaded down inside the glass. Water splashed over Jules’s jaw and down her red blouse. “Dammit!”
Anna lunged for the extra napkins at the center of the table.
“Jesus, Jules,” Brad sneered. “Wet much? God, can’t take you anywhere.”
Jules’s face crumpled. Anna grabbed her arm and flashed a feral smile at the men. “Excuse us. We need to go to the ladies’ room.”
“I don’t—” Jules started.
Anna cut her off. “Yes, you do.” She tugged harder. Jules stood. She wobbled beside Anna through the tables of raucous patrons who were waiting for the start of trivia night.
In the bathroom, Jules glared at her. “What the hell?”
“That’s what I’d like to know.” She pointed toward the door. “Jules. You’re hurting. He’s hurting. Worse, he’s turning into an ass. That’s not Brad. You two need help.”
“Fuck off.”
“I don’t want you to end up like me.”
“I’mnotyou.” Jules snatched a fistful of paper towels and shoved them across the wet spots on her chest. She swiped with a ferocity that matched the scowl on her face but was ruined by her wobbling chin and the splotchy cheeks. “ThankGod. Are you done?”
She swallowed hard. “No. I’m trying to be your friend.”
Tears clung to Jules’s lashes. Fury emanated out of her body. “Go be all touchy-feely with someone else. You don’t know anything about this.”
“I know you don’t cry.”
“My eyes are leaking in sympathy over your ignorance of the realities of married life.”
Anna sucked in a breath. “I also know you bite, but you’re usually not cruel.”
The door swung open. A mother with her toddler walked in. Jules squeezed her eyes shut. When she opened them, the intentional blankness was scarier than mean Jules. “Whatever. Just don’t make us lose trivia.” She thrust the paper towels in the trash and marched out the door.
Anna let out a shuddery breath. She could leave. Corner the waitress, cancel her order, and go. But this wasn’t about her. It was about helping people who’d been her friends.
What was she supposed to do when she didn’t know which was the better of two bad options?
She unclenched her hands. Her nails had cut into her palms and her skin felt clammy. She washed her hands, dried them thoroughly, then headed back out to the table.
By the time trivia ended at nine, Anna felt like an emotional punching bag, and her cheeks hurt from forcing smiles all night long. Their table came in second in trivia, first in biggest drunkard in the room, dead last in the race for an enjoyable evening.
She didn’t wait around for the prize. She put cash on her receipt and pleaded homework. No one tried to stop her, and no one argued with her paying for herself.
She drove home on autopilot, half wanting to call Kaci and ask advice, more wanting to test out her theory that Jackson had nice shoulders to cry on. But in the end, she tumbled into bed and had a fitful night of sleep.
The next morning, she was tucking her phone into herpurse on her way out the door for work when she realized she’d missed a text message the night before.
The only thing prettier than this coffee would be your smile right over it.
She winced. Her thumbs hovered over her phone.
Sorry, just got this, she typed out quickly.Hope you didn’t wait long. I’ll make it up to you later.
