“I’m only here because you made me. I’d rather be home.”
He rolls his eyes, unimpressed by my temper. When the bartender comes to us, he says, “I’ll have what he’s having. Actually, wait. What are you having, Lex?”
“Tequila.”
“On the rocks?! You psychopath.” He turns to the bartender again. “I’ll have a whiskey, please. Neat.”
While she handles his drink, Kev leans against the counter to look at the festive crowd. The bartender sets his glass next to mine, so I grab both and twist around. He takes his whiskey when I hand it to him, and we both stare at our employees dancing, talking, and mingling.
“To another successful party,” Kev offers before tapping his glass against mine. We both take a sip and resume our silent observation. “We built something good, you and I, didn’t we?”
“We did,” I agree.
“I’m glad we got to do this together, Lex.”
“It’s not like you knew anyone else who could help you make it happen.”
He chuckles and gives me a shove with his shoulder. “Don’t act like you would have done well without me.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have lasted a month.”
“And look at us now, eight years later…”
I nod, pensive. Because I can’t help it, I seek Andrea in the crowd and stare at her. She’s talking to Tamika and Dakota, more relaxed than moments ago.
“It hurts, doesn’t it?” Kev asks.
“What does?”
“Love.”
I meet his compassionate look, disliking the way my throat tightens. We haven’t spoken about what happened between me and Andrea. Or at least, I haven’t. Kev tried everything he could to get it out of me, but all he knows is we’re over. I’m too familiar with him to say anything more. If I shared my doubts and worries, he’d brush them off and tell me to go to her and take a chance. But he’s always been a hopeless romantic, so he wouldn’t understand why I had to let her go the way I did.
His rhetorical question doesn’t need answering, so I don’t. Instead, I return my focus to the petite Latina at the other end of the room. It really does fucking hurt. More than I could have ever imagined.
“It feels like the world has lost all its colors, but I promise it gets better,” Kev says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
He’s wrong, but I say nothing because I don’t want to talk about all this—not now, not ever. My world never had colors—not until I met her—so I’m not waiting for everything to return to normal. I’m trying to accept that my Technicolor days are over, and I need to pretend like black and white is a better alternative.
There’s more silence between us until the music stops and someone on the stage commands the room’s attention.
“Hey, everyone,” Evelyn says to the crowd. Behind her are the rest of the people in charge of organizing Kelex’s parties, full of smiles and contained excitement. “For those who don’t know us, we’re the party planning committee. We submitted the committee as a joke, but our amazing bosses gave us a shot. So, thank you, Lex and Kev, for letting ourThe Officejoke become a real thing.”
She points toward us, and every head turns in our direction. Kev and I raise our glasses together, and Evelyn continues. “This party is a little special because it’s the twentieth we’ve organized with their approval.”
People cheer and clap as I lean toward Kevin. “Do you think maybe we have too many company parties?”
“There’s no such thing, you killjoy,” he whispers back.
“Anyhow, we wanted to celebrate this special occasion with everyone,” Evelyn continues, “and as you know, our bosses have agreed to a costume contest with two amazing prizes. Whoever wins will get a luxurious weekend getaway for two in the Nevada desert, spa included.” There’s more cheering from the crowd. “The winner will also get to choose a charity that’ll receive a five-thousand-dollar donation.”
She then explains the corner table they set up with papers, pens, and a box and how everyone can vote for their favorite costume. But I’m done with my tequila again, so I’m back to the bartender for a refill.
Ten minutes. I have ten more minutes of this, and then I’m heading home.
Back to my black-and-white world.
“You’re sure?” I ask Mason.
