I should stand, leave, and get some air. Cool down.
But I’m a damn professional at playing it neutral.
So, I remain seated and watch as the murder mystery continues. Luckily there is some story audio on an app, as our script drags forever. It’s a true amateur play happening, a throwback to my sixth-grade drama club. Between food and bad gangster accents, it wasn’t until the end when it turned out my fictional wife was having an affair with the driver, and he’d killed her with poison.
What a shocker.
Time to wrap this up and get home. Apparently, I have a mailbox to fix in the morning.
“You’re okay to drive? Otherwise, I can order you two a cab,” Hailey checks in like the super organizer she is, as we’re all standing at the bottom of the grand staircase.
“I’m fine. I stopped drinking by the third course. Or did I just zone out? I’m not sure. Anyhow, I only had a drink earlier and wine with dinner.”
She smiles in agreement. “Perfect. You can take Esme home too. She arrived with a friend of mine because they needed to pick up extra supplies at the store.”
Esme looks between us. “Or not.”
Hailey has a crooked grin. “You live next door to one another.”
“And? Oliver lives down the street,” Esme highlights.
I smile tightly. “Let me guess. He’s helping you clean up?” I ask Hailey.
“Well, I… maybe.” Her voice is uneven.
Rubbing the back of my neck, I accept the cards we’ve been dealt. “Fine.”
“No,” Esme shoots out.
I must appear annoyed with everyone, and I’m happy to get the message across. “Don’t be ridiculous or I’ll throw you over my shoulder. So be a doll and get in the damn car.”
Esme’s jaw hangs low, and Hailey just leaves us with a giggle under her breath.
“I’m only doing this because I care about the planet, so carpooling it is,” she justifies her willingness to appease.
“Touching. Now come on.”
A long silence hits us when we get into my car. Even when I rev up the engine which causes her to huff, she refrains from speaking. Only two minutes later with her perfume now sticking to my car interior does she dip her toes into conversation.
“That was a well-planned evening.”
I focus on the road. There have been foxes spotted along the road at night recently. “A shame one guest decided to be wildly rude during the marriage proposal.”
“Oh, come on. Did you not hear that? You must have been laughing inside too.”
“But I didn’t let the world know it.”
Esme shakes her head and stares out the window. The damn dashboard light glows on her silky thighs, and her dress’s black sequins glint a sparkle.
“I still hate this car, even if the seat has heating and the leather is smooth and nice against the skin,” she comments as she slides her hand along the side panel.
“Speaking of skin, way to go with the costume, by the way. Plan on joining a strip club?”
She sneers at my sentence. “Rude as always,” she points out. “Why wasn’t there bootleg alcohol or moonshine tonight? It’s the age of prohibition, right? I mean, it would help my agitation right now.”
I keep my hands on the steering wheel; whatever I do, safety first.
“Having my fingers on your thigh seemed to calm you.” Okay, so I can’t help myself.
