Annie gives him a look, a sly and knowing smile meant just for him, but the weight of suggestion and the force of the pheromones are so strong it probably brings every straight man, gay woman, and pansexual person within a mile radius to their fuckin’ knees.
He recovers quickly. “Can I help you?” he asks her and not me, because I no longer exist.
She licks her lips—unconscious or conscious movement I don’t know—but he for sure catches it and I suddenly feel like throwing this barstool at the wall.
“I’ll just have a sparkling water, but my friend here might want something stronger,” she tells him,immediatelyfuckin’ friend-zoning me, and I should be happy I’ve been elevated to the level of ‘friend’ instead of ‘worst enemy,’ but sure as hell am not. Forget the wall, the barstool might need to smash him right in the fuckin’ teeth.
He doesn’t even glance over. “I can make you a mocktail,” he tells her, practically salivating at the need to serve her.
“Oh, yes. Please,” Annie purrs, in that voice meant for dark, private spaces like under the blankets or bent over a table, and with that, he’s in and I’m out.
I sigh.
Simple, I remind myself, and force myself to tune out of their conversation after he introduces himself to her as “Mark.”Would love a drink but it probably ain’t happenin’ unless I leap over the bar and get it myself. Mark wouldn’t even notice because of the thrall she’s captured him in.
A familiar voice cuts through the angry buzzing in my ears.
“Nico!”
I turn just in time to catch Claire barreling toward me, eyes bright, arms already wide. “I’m so happy to see you!”
I slide off the stool and pull her into a hug. “Hey, you.”
She grins. “How’s your drive going?”
I don’t even know how to answer. “It’s definitely… something.”
Claire laughs, and I turn to Annie to introduce her, but something makes me pause. Something’s changed in Annie’s demeanor, a teeny tiny shift of that something I sensed in the car. “This is?—”
Annie gracefully steps off the stool, extends her hand. “I’m Annie,” she says. “My sister’s marrying Nico’s friend so I decided to catch a ride to their wedding,” and with that I’ve been demoted even further, kicked out of the friend-zone and into thejust-my-ridezone and I decide that I fuckin’ hate it here.
They continue their introductions while I sit there like an idiot. When Annie sits back down, she puts an entire barstool between us, which somehow feels like an empty, yawning chasm.
“What do you think?” Claire asks.
“Well, your menu looks awesome. Actually, everything about this place is incredible,” Annie shares, tone genuine. She looks around. “It feels warm, but elegant. Like you package comfort and serve it with good wine.”
“Wow,” Claire laughs at Annie, eyes alight. “That’s exactly what I was going for.”
“You did good, girl,” Annie grins back.
I continue to sit there like a potted fern.
“You hungry?” Claire asks us. “I can whip something up real quick for you guys.”
“Starving. That would be much appreciated. Really excited to try it,” Annie replies with a smile.
“I’ll send it out with one of the guys when I’m done.” Claire turns back to me. “You wanna come back to the kitchen?” Claire asks me, her eyes sparkling.
“Uh…” It’s the plant’s turn to speak. I turn to Annie. “Do you?—”
Annie glances at Claire, then looks at me. “I’m good,” she says with finality. “You won’t even remember I’m here.”
I will never forget about you for as long as I live, Annie, a strange voice says in my noggin.
Mark takes that opportunity to swoop in like a fuckin’ hawk, and Annie redirects the force of her smile at him.
Simple, I remind myself. “Let’s go,” I tell Claire.
