Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 246(@250wpm)___ 205(@300wpm)
I keep my eyes on the bar, doing my best to listen, but her voice is silent or lost in the mix of chatter throughout the crowded place.
“Another?” Patricia’s voice sounds close, closer than she usually is. I lift my head to see her standing right in front of me, both hands on the bar and waiting.
I nod my head with my brows pinched, shaking off the mix of emotions. This city is a small place with worlds always colliding, but I’ve never seen her in person. Only in a photograph. Only that once. I’m sure it’s her, though.
The ice clinks in the glass and I watch as the liquid slips over each cube, cracking them and filling the crevices.
“You okay?” Patricia asks me. It’s odd. In the year or so since I’ve been coming here, she’s never bothered to make small talk. It’s why I don’t mind her.
I give her a tight smile as I reply, “I’m fine.” I reach her eyes and widen my smile, relaxing my posture as I lean back slightly.
She eyes me warily as she mutters, “You don’t look fine.”
It takes me a moment before I shrug it off and say, “I’m all right, just tired.”
She nods once and goes back to minding her own business, sliding me the whiskey and moving on to other customers.
I tap my pointer finger against the glass, looking casually down the bar.
She’s hidden from view, but I know she’s there.
Julia
My body tingles with another sip of cabernet.
It’s my third glass and it’s only tasting sweeter on my lips. The tips of my fingers always feel the turning point first when I drink. That familiar buzz that makes my body feel a bit heavy and my mind light.
“I can’t believe your license plate says Alimony,” Maddie says into her wineglass as she snickers again. She’s laughing so hard that the white zinfandel splashes onto her lips, but she doesn’t care. She merely smiles and takes a large gulp.
Suzette answers with a shrug and a cocky smirk, “The asshole had it coming to him.” Her bright pink lipstick smudges against her glass of Long Island iced tea and she wipes it away with her napkin as Maddie continues to laugh. Sue’s given herself a makeover since her divorce is now finalized. Currently she’s sporting jet-black hair cut into a blunt bob and bangs to go with her snippy attitude.
“Please tell me he saw it when you left the courthouse today. Please?” Maddie practically begs, still grinning from ear to ear.
Maddie’s young and naive and thinks Prince Charming is somewhere out there, so you should always be ready. Sue has a marriage, a divorce, and fifteen years on Maddie, so between the three of us, we have as many opinions on love as we do rounds of drinks.
Sue’s plastered-on smile slips and she tries to hide it with a shrug as she takes another sip. Her license plate is just one more way for Sue to make fun of her divorce before anyone else can. Her ex put her through hell and she came out cold as ice to all men. Well, except the ones she likes to sink her claws into after a few Long Islands.
Sue leans back in the white leather booth, keeping the glass in her hand and shrugs again as she says, “What says ‘fuck you, motherfucker’ better than taking his red Ferrari in the proceedings and getting that license plate?”
Kat pipes up from her spot in the booth, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her Pepsi before she says, “I think it says, ‘don’t touch this bitch’ to every man in the city.”
A sly smile slips onto Sue’s face. “Thank goodness … that’s exactly what I was going for,” she says, setting her drink down then stretching her arms over her head. “Maybe all these bastards will finally leave me alone then.” The other girls start to howl at that and I join in, although my heart’s not in it. My nerves are shot just being out here tonight. Sue’s directly across from me and both of us are seated at the ends of the semicircular booth. Kat’s to my right, then Maddie.
“Another round?” The waiter startles me and I nearly spill my glass as I gasp and back away. All the poor guy did was offer me another drink and I practically had a heart attack. Several distant gazes turn in our direction as my own table watches me like there’s something wrong with me and I do what I do best, I play it off and let out a small laugh. Maybe I’m even more like Sue than I realized.
“Sorry,” I say a bit too loud. Exaggerating how tipsy I am, I gently place my hand on the waiter’s arm. His starched white shirt feels crisp under my fingers as I lean in and sweetly say, “I’m so sorry, I hope I didn’t spill any on you.”