What? Make the best of it?That's not what she's supposed to say. "There's going to be no ‘making the best of’ this shit show. It's going to be an absolute disaster. Kat with hot men all over the place, feeding her drinks she doesn't need. Honestly, I donothave the time to babysit her right now. The next few weeks arewaytoo important for me to have her waltz in here and screw it up for me."
"Maybe she won't." Hadley lets out another yawn. "I mean, who knows? Maybe she'll end up being really helpful. It's not like she's ever had a chance to prove herself, which also means she hasn't proven shecan'tdo it."
Logic? I don’t want logic right now. I want rage. "Come on, Hadley, we all know she's lazy. She only came today because my mum dragged her here, and now she's going to use this place as her own personal Tinder app."
“Have you laid out your expectations for her? Set some boundaries?"
"What…? No. She's only been here a few hours. Besides, she's not exactly the type to respect other people's boundaries."
"Well, she can't if you don't tell her what they are." Hadley rests her hands on her round belly. "I've been reading this book about effective parenting, and it says the most important thing to do in any relationship is to establish firm boundaries and make your expectations clear to the child—in this case, your sister. That way you’re setting both of you up for success."
I blink a few times, trying to process what's happening here, but all I can think is that I'm losing my best friend to her newly developed sense of reason. "Right. That's an excellent point,” I say, offering her a tight smile. "Thanks."
More yawning and apologizing, then she says, "I know that's probably not what you were hoping to hear. You were probably expecting me to get completely furious on your behalf, and I am. I mean, really deep down, I am totally annoyed, especially at your mum. But the truth is, Nora, I'm so tired right now, I don't have the energy to be upset about anything. I have to skip the part where I get all emotional about things and go straight to the bit where we solve the problem."
"Please don't apologize. You're totally right. Set the boundaries, make the expectations clear, and hope for the best."
"Exactly," she says with a smile. “I'm so glad you get it. Doesn't this feel so much better than being upset?"
No, it most certainly does not.“Mm-hmm.”
"I mean, it's not like being angry about it will change the situation anyway. Kat will be working here for a while, so you just have to make the best of it, right?"
"Uh-huh." Only I don’t want to make the best of it. I want her gone.
Yawning again, Hadley adds, "I guess the other way to look at it is that Kat may not even stick around until all those hot bartenders show up. Who knows? She could wind up quitting in a few days."
"Nowthat'sa very good point," I say and then realize I've just implied that none of the other things she said had any merit. Hopefully she's too tired to notice. "What am I even worried about? She's never stuck with anything for more than a couple of days in her entire life. She won’t stick with this—having to get up early and actually work every day?"
"For no pay, too." She leans her elbow on the desk, props her head on her hand, and closes her eyes for a second. Managing to open them again, she adds, "And if by some chance she doesn’t quit, go with the whole boundary thing. On a side note, how doyoufeel about all those hot bartenders showing up here?”
I make the same face I would if someone asked me to sniff their armpit. “No thank you. I do not need that sort of trouble in my life.”
“Oh come on, what about a little fling? It could be good for you.”
“Which part? The losing focus on my career just when it’s finally going somewhere or the STI?”
Her eyes flutter and she says, “Pessimist.”
“Realist.”
“Maybe you’ll meet the man of your dreams.”
“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. Man of my dreams.Pfft,” I scoff, stabbing at my salad with my fork, trying to make the perfect bite. “I’ve got bigger fish to fry, thank you very much. Promotion, little cottage by the sea, maybe a dog, but no man. Certainly not some roving man-child who pours liquids into glasses for a living. How is that even a skill? I mean, really…”
When I look back up at her, Hadley’s fast asleep, sitting up, head in her hand. My heart squeezes seeing my friend so exhausted. I finish munching on my deeply unsatisfying salad while I contemplate our conversation. She’s right about one thing. I really have nothing to worry about. Kat will quit. I only hope she does it before she can tank my career.
* * *
Email from Carolina Armas
To: Nora Cooper
CC: Vincent St. Pierre
Subject Line: URGENT - World Bartending Championship
Dear Nora,
