“Ohhh. Girl. I’m here for this. Let’s teach that asshole a lesson. Tell me exactly what you need me to do. I’m in.”
This is undeniably why Roxy is my best friend. She’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met. “Can you order a drink from the waitress and ask her to deliver a message from us?”
“Not only can I do this for you—I will enjoy every last minute of it,” Roxy replies, beaming. “What else?”
“I’m going to have his profile pulled up on my phone,” I explain. “Then I’m going to march over, confront them, and throw the drink in his face.”
Roxy interrupts. “Can I be standing next to you, flipping that asshole off?”
“As much as I wouldn’t expect anything less than that, I was thinking you could film it. I want to post the video as part of my healing process.”
“Can I be filming himandflipping him off?“ she begs.
I grin. And she knows she’s won.
The waitress reappears, setting a glass of water down in front of Roxy. “Let me know if you ladies need anything,” she says before sauntering back to the bar for a waiting tray of drinks.
“What do you want to order? Beer. Red wine. Vodka. I know—champagne!” Roxy rapid-fires suggestions as I lean back in my chair, arms crossed.
“Are you done?” I ask, cocking a brow.
She nods.
“We’re getting a mojito. According to the internet, it’s the best drink to throw at someone, because the mint leaves stick to the person’s face.”
Roxy slaps a hand over her mouth, stifling a cackle. I’ve done a lot of research leading up to this moment. It’s like my one last hoorah before I wallow in self-pity for a while.
She takes a few minutes to compose herself, then asks, “What do you want her to tell him?”
I take a deep breath. “I want her to say it’s from his ex-girlfriend, and she says cheers.”
“Okay. Got it.” Roxy beams, waving the waitress over.
“Ladies, are we ready for a round of drinks?” she asks, cheerfully eyeing us in our little black dresses.
“Actually,” Roxy begins, then pauses dramatically to read the waitress’s name tag. “Are you a girl’s girl, Lisa? Because we’re wondering if we can buy that lovely couple over there a drink—to share.”
“Of course you can buy them a drink, but I’m not sure why that would make me a girl’s girl.” Her head tilts to the side, confused.
“That’s not the part that makes you a girl’s girl, Lisa. This next part does. Can you also deliver them a message from us?” Roxy whispers.
“Sure,” Lisa replies, uncertainty lacing her words.
“Can you tell them: your ex-girlfriend says cheers? And can you also say, enjoy the sloppy seconds?”
“Roxy!” I gasp, but she giggles.
Lisa laughs with her. “Now I understand. Let me get my boss. I think she can do something better.”
I stare in disbelief as Lisa prances off, giddy as a goddamn unicorn. She whispers in the bartender’s ear. The pretty blonde freezes at whatever she says, then looks in our direction. Shegives us a thumbs-up, smiles, and winks. Lisa waves before returning to our table.
“Hey,” she huffs, “my boss said if you want to sneak up to the bar to pick up the drink, she can pretend to walk into the supply room if you want to throw a drink in his face and deliver it yourself.”
“That would be epic,” I whisper-squeal, trying to pretend I’m excited to confront Jackson.
Excited is the only emotion I’m not feeling, but I’m sure my adrenaline will kick in, giving me the courage to at least throw a drink in his face. It’s kind of a bucket list item after watching all those research videos about ways to break up with a cheater.
“I can read his profile out loud,” Roxy suggests a little too enthusiastically.
