“Dude, they can be the worst, right?! I hate the way some of them walk around this city. Going around in sunglasses and T-shirts—”
“Like they don’t want to get recognized even though you can tell they totally do.”
Julian raised his hands to the sky, “Thank you! Like bro, you’re an A-list actor. If you hate being recognized so much, maybe you’re in the wrong career.”
They looked at each other for a moment, mutually reveling in being in the presence of someone who understood, before moving on.
You’re just dipping your toes, Cierra reminded herself.You’re not looking for anything serious.
Later, after giving a long-winded answer about how much she loved the movieNational Treasure, Cierra halted mid-sentence. “Wait, wait, wait . . .” she said. “I’m doing all the talking.” She covered her mouth with her hand, as if she had just discovered something terrible. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I should be asking more questions . . . please don’t think I’m super obsessed with myself. I swear I normally don’t talk this much. You’re just so good at . . .”
“Being interested in you?” Julian winked, waving her comment away. He took another swig of his margarita, which was noticeably still at a higher liquid level than hers. God, he was so much hotter than she remembered. How had she not noticed the first time around? Had she been that distraught over Harry? Julian wasn’t just good-looking. This man had serious sex appeal.
“And trust me, I would never accuse you of being someone who talked too much. You’re a woman who’s got things to say. Besides, I enjoy listening to you.”
Cierra’s whole body tingled at this, but she couldn’t tell if the warm feeling in her midsection was because of how charmed she was or something else.
At the same moment, Cierra felt the room beginning to sway, and then it finally dawned on her. During exchanges about high school or their favorite action movie, she had crossed over from the coveted buzzed state and into treacherous territory. She was drunk.
It had been years since she had been properly drunk. No wonder she was talking so much. The last time she’d had this many drinks on virtually an empty stomach was . . . maybe college? She panicked internally. What was she supposed to do? She wasn’t in the right frame of mind for devising an exit plan. Could he tell she was one drink away from being on the floor?
Why did movies make it seem like having a drink or two before a first date was a good idea? He was so charming, and she was having such a fun time talking with him — just like whenthey first met. She didn’t want to mess this chance up, but she felt like she was between a rock and a hard place. Should she make up an excuse and leave early, potentially making him think she was a flake? Or should she stay and risk making even more of a fool of herself?
Unfortunately, as she was going through these scenarios in her head, her eyes had glazed over, and her mouth was making subtle movements.
“Uh, you all right?” Julian asked. He tapped her forearm, bringing her back down to earth. “What’s going on up there?”
Overwhelmed by the increasing lack of control she had over her body, all she could think to do was to come clean. She hung her head, sighed, and then came over to Julian’s side of the booth, slinking in next to him.
“Oh, okay. Now I’m really interested,” he said teasingly, but moved over so she had enough space.
Cierra leaned in and cupped her hand around her mouth as she whispered in his ear. “Julian, I have to tell you something.”
He hissed back, “Of course, what is it?”
“I accidentally drank too much, and I didn’t eat verr-much today, and now I’m kind of drink.”
Julian chuckled. “Yeah, I know you’re a littledrink.”
Cierra scrunched her face and whispered back, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, but I think I need . . . need t’go home.”
Julian, with kind, disappointed eyes, told her he understood and promptly took care of the bill. Luckily, their orders hadn’t even been made yet, so they could pay quickly.
He helped her put her jacket back on and gently placed a hand around her waist to steady her balance when they left the restaurant. Cierra had started walking toward the subway stop farther down the block when Julian stopped her.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Let’s make sure you get home safe. Okay?”
Since Cierra was unable to articulate any kind of protest clearly, Julian hailed a cab and handed the driver fifty dollars. Cierra got inside and profusely apologized while the yellow taxi whizzed along Broadway back uptown. She would have felt worse, but the second she got back to her apartment, she kicked off her shoes and collapsed into bed.
CHAPTER FIVE
THE BLARING SIRENS outside, a constant background noise in New York City, finally roused Cierra from her tequila-induced sleep the next morning. As she lifted her head, which was face down in a mascara-smudged pillow, memories from the previous night came waltzing into her mind like obnoxious, uninvited guests. First, she thought of how she had hit a random woman in the head, but before even making it to the next cringe-worthy moment, she leaped out of the bed and sprinted toward the bathroom to vomit profusely.
By any standard, this was one of the worst mornings Cierra had had in years. She tried to tell herself that the morning after Harry left her had been worse, but when she looked in the mirror at her puffy, sweat-glazed face, she had to face facts. She had thought there might be an adjustment period to dating, but she wasn’t expecting this kind of epic fail.
Rather than just clean her face, she stripped down entirely. She tossed all her clothes in the hamper and stepped straight into a scalding shower. The intensity of her hangover-induced thirst made her drink the water raining straight from the shower head. She felt like she was dying and was amazed to see that her body looked normal, despite the internal war happening.
After she emerged from the shower, clean but not cleansed, she put on some gray sweats and sunglasses and headed straightto the corner bodega. She cursed herself when she remembered the dinner she’d promised Mia she’d go to was that very evening.
