“There’s nothing you can do about it right now. We just have to wait for them to get back from the water park.”
“When did they leave?”
I shrug. “Less than an hour ago.”
He slowly slumps down to the ground.
I reach into the cooler and pass him the bottle of wine, prefacing his impending refusal by saying, “We’re going to be here for a few hours. Might as well.”
Dom stares at the bottle for a few moments before reaching over and taking a swig.
* * *
“Spare Sock Subscription. Every month, we send you a replacement for that one sock that disappeared in the dryer.”
Dom sits on the ground of the patio with his back to the railing. He nods, taking another swig straight from the bottle. “Twenty thousand dollars and a sixty percent stake in the company.”
“Wow, generous. You must be a Missing Sock Conspiracy Theorist. Your turn.”
“The Breakup Bar,” he says. “You have to be single to enter. No happy couples allowed.”
I grin. “Plus, you get a free shot if you delete an old text thread on the spot. Fifty thousand dollars and twenty percent stake.”
He thinks for another moment. “Karaoke and Cry. A karaoke bar where every song is sad.”
I snicker. “And you can only order whiskey or red wine,” I add on. “I’m in. Thirty thousand. But why are these getting so depressing? We need some positivity.”
Dom thinks again. “Personal Hype Squad,” he says with a grin.
I laugh out loud.
“A team of strangers follows you around, clapping and cheering and hyping you up at random moments.”
I give Dom a standing ovation. “Look at you! Relaxing so well!” I shout a little too loudly.
One bottle down.
* * *
“Well, this is how we die,” I tell him, taking a swig from the bottle. I’ve long since given up on my wine glass.
“We’re in a fully stocked estate, and my family will be home in a few hours to let us out.”
“Yeah, but what if something happens?”
He raises an eyebrow.
“What if society collapses while we’re here and then we have to repopulate the planet?” This wouldn’t be so bad, actually.
The corner of Dom’s mouth twitches, his ears turning red. “The door is glass. If it comes to that, we break it, and then we’re in a fully stocked estate. Also, my daughter’s out there, so I’d appreciate refraining from any and all apocalyptic talk.”
I snort and pass him the bottle. “I think it’s important to be prepared for worst-case scenarios.”
He smirks, taking another sip. “So your worst-case scenario is being stuck with me?”
“No, my worst-case scenario is being stuck with you and not being able to make out. So… this.”
He tries to hide his smile and fails.
