Zara smiled like she was thinking of something else but said, “One drink. I want to talk to you about something, and I’d like a drink I didn’t have to pour or make myself, if that’s okay.”
“Talk to me? Is everything okay?”
“Come on. Let’s go.” Zara stood up. “It’s too late for us to be here anyway.”
Arwen didn’t want to argue with her friend, who clearly had something she wanted to get off her chest, so she followed her out of the office and assumed they’d go to the lawyer bar, which they rarely, but usually frequented when they went out to celebrate. Zara suggested they go somewhere else, though, a new bar that wasn’t that far away, and it was a big departure from their local lawyer bar. It had more of a club vibe than strictly bar, though there wasn’t a dance floor, and the space was dark in tone. Their lawyer bar had maroon vinyl booths with tears in them and dark wooden tables with water rings. This place had near-black tables and booths that were probably still vinyl but looked like the highest quality vinyl in the world, with no tears that she noticed as she sat down in one.
Where their local spot typically had five to ten men in cheap suits and a few women in equally cheap business suits, this place had people of all types, and there were a lot more of them. There were ten barstools, and each was occupied. Arwen ran her eyes over every person and noticed a woman in jeans and a blouse with flats, a man in a much nicer suit than the guys at their bar, another man in a leather jacket and torn jeans, and as she scanned faster, her eyes landed on a woman at the very end of the bar, who also happened to be staring right back at her.
“Whoa,” Arwen muttered to herself.
“What?” Zara asked, turning her head to see what she was looking at.
“She’s gorgeous,” Arwen said softly, hoping the woman who was still staring at her couldn’t read lips.
“Who?” Zara asked.
“Don’t look. She’s staring at me,” she told her quickly.
Zara turned back to her and asked, “The woman at the end?”
“Yeah, short black hair.”
Zara went to turn again.
“No, she’s still looking,” Arwen said.
“How can I tell you if I think she’s gorgeous, too, then? I didn’t get a good look at her.”
The woman picked up her drink, which was a dark alcohol of some kind with no ice, and took a long sip while her equally dark eyes bore into Arwen’s.
“What kind of bar is this?” Arwen asked.
“A normal bar. I saw it just opened on my way to work this morning. Why?”
“Because that woman looks as if she thinks I’m here for something other than drinks.”
“Maybesheis,” Zara said. “But I was hoping we could talk about–”
“Zara, she is, like, intensely staring at me. I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. DoIstop staring at her? Will she stop then?”
“I guess you have to ask yourself if youwanther to stop.”
Arwen met Zara’s eyes for a moment, and they looked a little bloodshot to her in this dim lighting. Her own eyes returned to the dark-haired woman’s, though, feeling that her theory had been wrong. Sure enough, that woman was still looking at Arwen, although her stare was less intense now. It was, dare Arwen say it, more welcoming. The woman tilted her head and gave a little nod. Arwen interpreted that as her asking who Zara was to her, so she shook her head, and the woman nodded and held up her drink. Arwen nodded back because she didn’t know what else to do. The woman held up an elegant handto the bartender, who instantly moved to her. Arwen hadn’t seen a bartender rush to anyone so quickly in her life, and soon, he was pouring the woman another drink.
“Arwen?” Zara said.
“Yes?” she asked and returned her attention to Zara.
Zara cleared her throat and said, “I know I’m not exactly tall, dark, and handsome over there, but I was hoping we could talk about–”
“She’s coming over here,” Arwen interjected before she could stop herself.
“What?” Zara asked.
“She’s walking over here. What do I do?”
“She’s just walking over here? We’re together. What the hell?”
