He held up his hands and his glass. “Easy, tiger. Why don’t you get a drink first? You want anything, uh, Victor?”
“No, thank you. I’m waiting for someone,” he said.
“Who?” I balked.
“Kat,” he said, like it should’ve been obvious.
As if on cue, she walked into the bar, immediately drawing the gaze of half the people in the room. Fishnet tights. Plaid skirt. Black cropped sweater. A giant, gothic cross nestled into her generous cleavage. Thick, smokey eyeliner and dark red lips accentuated sultry eyes and a bright grin. She reached up high, exposing more midriff as she waved to Victor.
“There she is,” he purred, slipping into the crowd to fetch her.
I sighed, accidentally leaning onto Sal instead of the bar for a second. I jolted upright.
“Let me guess, girlfriend?” He grinned.
“Yes,” I clipped.
My brother wrapped her up in his arms and kissed her with barely-restrained hunger as if they’d been apart for years instead of the five hours since her lunch break. She cradled his cheeks, then wiped the lipstick from his teeth.
Gross.My stomach tangled worse than headphone wires.
Good thing I was here to make a friend, because I was pretty sure my brother just abandoned me. I turned to Sal. “I think I will take that drink.”
“Sure thing.” He flagged down the bartender and dragged a bowl of pretzels over. “You may want to start with these.” He popped one into his mouth, then held up one missing the left loop.
Well, at least someone was being nice to me. I fished around for an unbroken piece and tapped it to his. “Cheers,” I said, my lip twitching up.To starting something. Even if it did feel like the end of something that’d been so important to me.
6
Chatbot
I chomped through my frustrations one salty, germ-infested snack at a time. What was the point of my brother changing his plans to be here if he wasn’t going to hang out with me?
Sal jerked his chin at the couple. “So, how long have they been dating? A few weeks?”
I frowned. “How’d you know?”
“Honeymoon period.” He munched indiscriminately on the broken pretzel bits. “Don’t worry; it’ll cool off. Me and my girlfriend did.”
“After how long?”
He squinted at the ceiling. “Mm, a couple of months, maybe?”
“Hm.” That wasn’t too long. “And where is she?”
“Oh, she’s not coming.” He tapped along to some rock song playing on the speakers, then bobbed his head at the bartender. “Anyway, what are you having?”
I needed to keep my wits about me. “Arnold Palmer, please.”
Sal absent-mindedly drummed to the music, then scanned the room.
I’d lose my only social lifeline if I didn’ttrytalking to him. I grabbed my drink and people-watched at his side. “So, are you telling me some couples can still do things independently?”
“Shockingly enough, yes.” He chuckled and propped his chin up. “You know, Ash is pretty independent. She’s probably not looking for a relationship.”
Why would that matter? I shrugged. “That’s fine. I’m not either. I hate men. No offense.”
“None taken.” He slumped slower, all puppy dog eyes from this angle. Maybe that was uncharitable of me to say in front of him.
