I smile. I always find it rewarding when the authors I choose resonate with my students. “Glad to hear it. I can email a couple of other recommendations you might want.”
Amy laughs as we hit the end of the hall. “I found your Goodreads Professor Pierce. I’ve already filled up my TBR.” She hurries down the stairs, crossing the parking lot in the direction of Barrows.
I look back down the hall, taking in what will be one of the last times I’ll be here before the journey to Dublin.
3
I pull into the Casadoro parking lot and the place is fucking packed. I manage to find the last spot in the overflow lot, just as a light rain starts to spit on my windshield. I sprint from the car to the door, holding my hand over my head in a dismal attempt to stop the water.
Inside, the restaurant is loud and the line of people waiting zigzags the entrance. Alex knows the bar manager and, despite how busy it is, can always secure us a table.
I see him sitting at a two-top on the perimeter of the bar. I sit down, finding a limonata and an order of gnocco fritto waiting for me.
Alex, as always, looks amazing. Once he made partner at his law firm he really began to invest heavily in his wardrobe. Tonight, he’s wearing his blue Armani suit with, as always, a pocket square for a pop of color. Today it’s yellow.
“I thought you’d already be hungry so I ordered an app.” I grab one of the gnocco fritto and pop it in my mouth, the dough practically melting in my mouth. Most days I bring lunch to campus but between running late, and office hours, I only managed a Clif Bar.
“Thank you, and also for remembering the limonata.” The limonata is a perfect blend of gin and lemon, with some effervescence from the prosecco.
“So, I’m gonna cut to the chase. I think you should move in with me.” The second gnocco fritto I just grabbed falls out of my hand.
“I…umm—”
“And I think you should also skip the whole Dublin thing.”
I look up and catch Alex’s eyes. He’s staring at me, but it’s matched with this self-righteous smirk splashed on his face. He takes a sip of his wine, then leans back a bit and sloshes the remaining liquid around the glass.
“We’ve talked about this before. Ad nauseam. We haven’t even been dating a year. I can’t just drop the…how’d you put it? Dublin thing? It’s my job Alex. I’ve signed a contract and someone’s already taking my course load here.”
“Take the semester off. Hell, take more than that off. You know I make more than enough to cover it.”
Ahh. There it is. This fucking prick. Michael, and others, had caught this vibe from him early on, but maybe I’ve been too blind to see it. He thinks he’s that much better than the rest of us just because his name’s on a plaque outside a building. Stereotypical asshole lawyer.
“And do exactly what? Keep house? Be your little tradwife and just fucking give up on everything I’ve worked for? I actually fucking like my job and what I do, believe it or not.”
Alex laughs. “What you’ve worked for? Please Daniel, don’t flatter yourself. You funded your bachelor’s, your master’s, and your doctorate off life insurance money. Don’t pretend things weren’t just handed to you.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “That’s rich, coming from the almost law school dropout who barely passed the bar exam and only made partner when his daddy threw a hissy fit in a boardroom. At least I worked hard for my degrees and beenpublished multiple times over the past couple of years. Tell me, Alex. When was the last time you actually won a court case?”
His face goes through the full Pantone range of reds in a matter of seconds. “How fucking dare you.”
I stand up from the table, now noticing we have caught the attention of almost the entire bar. One of the bartender’s literally frozen in place, mid-shake of a drink. “I know you’re pretty entitled and used to everything going your way. And definitely not used to people telling you no. I will make this as crystal clear as possible just to make sure you can comprehend it. No. Noooooooo. I won’t be fucking moving in with you. Yes, I will be going to Dublin and fuck the first hot guy that even looks my way. Someone that doesn’t have an awful spray tan, or,” and I make sure to look around the bar, “tattoos of Mickey and Minnie Mouse on each ass cheek. You might have money, but I would bet anything I have more than you. Which is sad, because your supposed wealth is really your last redeeming quality.”
I take out my wallet and throw two twenties on table, just because, and turn to walk to the door.
“I guess you can now run home to Michael and finally get to live your shitty little ever after.”
I spin around and take a few steps back towards the table. “What is your obsession with him, anyways? He’s my fucking roommate, for the better part of a decade. And a friend for triple that. Don’t you think if anything were going to happen it could have on, I don’t know, any night of the last twenty plus years? This weird jealousy you have of him is just pathetic.”
“Not as pathetic as being almost thirty-eight years old and having a roommate.”
“What’s truly pathetic is having a naked painting of a cartoon prince hanging in your bathroom.”
He truly does.
This needs to end, on a final note with flair. I look at his suit, which probably cost him more than one of my paychecks. I grab his wine glass, and throw it left-center of his chest. Making sure the wine hits not only the jacket but also one of his beloved pocket squares.
“Go fuck yourself Alex.” I head towards the door, catching looks from a couple of the bar patrons. A woman at the end claps as I pass, throwing the door open and heading back out into the rain.
