“Blake, do you understand anything about the world?” She seems exasperated.
“Don’t infantilize me, Caroline.” It’s the first time he hasn’t used her pet name to her face.
“I’m not. I was trying to vent about how controlling my dad can be. I just want him to retire so we can run things the way we want.”
I sit quietly, uncomfortable. I flag the waiter over and ask for a glass of water. “Is that it?” he says. “And a shot of tequila,” I add.
Caroline and Blake are oblivious to my being here, lost in their own argument. So instead, I intend to get extremely drunk while they argue in front of me. Or I can just leave. No, I vote for tequila.
“Caroline,” Blake says, “I’m referring to the fact that you basically called me an idiot. And no, the company is not my livelihood now, nor will it be when you take it over. The company is your livelihood.”
Can we just go back to talking about clothes? “I’m sorry, Hayden,” Blake says, finally remembering I’m still there. “This must be uncomfortable for you.” He looks at Caroline pointedly.
Caroline looks at me and says, “Sorry, I’ll stop.” Then she turns back to Blake. “I’m just shocked that you’ve taken all of the opportunities my dad has given you for granted.”
“Well, I guess we’re gonna do this, aren’t we? How embarrassing, but here goes,” he says to me, and then turns toward Caroline once more. “I appreciate everything your father has done for me, believe me. I’m also reminded of it constantly. What I don’t like is the way he treats you. You need to stand up to him. You’re still young, but your life revolves around that company. You don’t have to be at his beck and call.”
“So you’re saying I should I be at yours?”
“What?”
Oh, my God, I need to leave.
“What are you talking about, Caroline? We’re hardly together. You blow off our dates and you won’t stay at my house, or have me over at yours. I’m confused.”
The waiter leaves my tequila and Caroline’s steak. She stares at the food on her plate. “I have no appetite.”
She stands up and the chair screeches away from the table. She throws her napkin down and pushes her plate toward Blake. “Here, you can feed that to Hayden. I’m leaving.”
I swallow the shot of tequila and start to go after her but Blake grabs my hand. “No, sit. It’s my place.” Caroline is already out the door. He throws two hundred dollars down onto the table, then leans down and pecks me on the cheek. “Thank you for letting me escape the pressure for a bit.” His smile is curt and then he’s gone.
I’m in shock. I get the bill and it’s only a hundred and sixteen dollars, so I order two more shots of tequila on Blake’s dime.
I’m feeling very pathetic, scrolling through the Facebook feed on my phone, sitting at a table alone in a restaurant, chasing tequila with the last of the red wine. I’m looking at pictures of all my friends from high school who have boyfriends; some of them are even married. At least I have my career. My thoughts are getting more and more muddled. I pay the bill and decide it’s time to call an Uber so I can go home and cry about my life…when Blake comes strolling back through the door.
He glances at the aftermath of my drinking binge. I smile wide. “Hiya. Uh, did you come back for your change? Because…I kind of spent it.”
“I see that,” he chuckles. “I didn’t come for my change. I came to talk to you. I’m glad you’re still here.”
He could have called. “Sooo, what’s up?” I wonder if I’m slurring.
“Well, a couple of things. I wanted to let you know that Caroline is okay. I smoothed things over with her, and she’s fine. She really likes you and feels bad about making a scene. She’ll probably text you to see if you guys can reschedule since tonight was a bust.”
“All right,” I say. “Um, I’m sorry I spent your money. I was…bored.” Depressed, really. “I can go to an ATM and pay you back.”
He holds his hand out, gesturing for me to take it and stand. “No, Hayden, it’s on me. Sorry about earlier, really. I also wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
“Immma big girl.” Now I’m sure I’m slurring.
“Let me take you home?”
I stand up, wobbly, and point at him. “No funny business, mister.”
He laughs. “Oh, boy. You’re very drunk. Don’t worry, I’m a total gentleman. I’m also your friend’s boyfriend.”
“Client,” I say. He squints. “And friend, of course.”
“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the door.
