Page 27 of Contention

Afterwards, Kara returns home to change into something a little fancier for dinner with Bianca.

She meets Bianca outside the quaint little Italian restaurant and is quickly enclosed in her embrace. “I’m glad you could pull yourself out of work long enough to see me!” Bianca has a strong, vivacious hug and a loud voice, infectious with her outgoing nature. “Jeez, bitch.”

Kara rolls her eyes as they pull away and check in with the host of the restaurant. “Not all of us live our lives out of a club, you know. Besides; work keeps me calm.”

They sit down at their small, candlelit table and glance over the alcohol list. Bianca orders a white wine while Kara orders her usual dirty martini, extra, extra dirty. Blue cheese olives, yes please, okay thanks. Bianca looks at Kara over her dinner menu, something fancy that changes every week by the look of it. “Your idea of ‘calm’ is very strange, has anyone ever told you that?”

“Uhuh.” Eyes flitting over the main courses, distracted.

“Okaaay…since your idea of zen is talking about work and mine is about men, can we discuss that fine boss of yours? Oooh, he gives me the tingles. A little older than I like, but I can appreciate it from the distance.”

Kara frowns, setting the menu down. “Can we not talk about the married, unattainable man who happens to be my employer? Makes me feeldirtyinside.”

“Says the girl drinking the dirty,” Bianca teases with a wide grin, bright and friendly. “Don’t lie; you think he’s handsome, too. I’ve seen his picture in articles before.

Aha. Yeah. Derrick is a good looking, traditional handsome sort of man. The boy next door, but grown up. Not that she’s going to admit it to anyone, but Kara had looked when she was first hired. She’d done the passerby glance at his ring finger, just to see.

There it was, the golden band, gleaming back at her mockingly. That settled that, of course.

Sipping her dirty martini once it arrives, Kara gives some ground. “Fine. Yes. He’s a very attractive man.”

Bianca raises one of her eyebrows, a playful look in her blue eyes. “Well, you could be working for a fat slob that eats cheetos while he looks down your shirt, telling you how you can improve, okay?”

Laughing, Kara leans forward and gasps, “No. You’re kidding. Tell me you’re kidding!”

Adjusting her bra through her fancy, black and white silk button-down, Bianca twists her lips in disgust. “Just this very afternoon. It was lovely. So erotic. I almost asked for his number, he put me insucha mood.”

Kara cackles before taking another gulp from her martini. The burn is satisfying, crawling down her throat. “That’s awful. My boss is a perfect gentleman, so, cheers.”

They order their food and Bianca orders her second drink, always quick to suck alcohol down. Kara makes a conscious effort to make her martini last as long as possible, as she always does. She never orders a second.

Usually.

Not unless she counts that night that Havenwood-Calais cornered her in her favorite bar, trying to buy her vicious mouth shut. Dreadful man. Kara feels like a criminal, having willingly gotten in his car the other day.

How stupid can one girl be, after all? It’s almost like she’s a glutton for misery and danger.

He hadn’t done anything to her during the car ride and Kara can’t decide if she’s relieved or disappointed about that. It could have been far worse, aside from him insinuating she could ask a favor from him, even something awful. Because he had insinuated it. He’d insinuated that he was fine with her using him.

A wicked part of her knows exactly how she’d like to use him, to get him defenseless, suffocate him with her-

As if sensing Kara’s mind has suddenly gone elsewhere, Bianca narrows her eyes with harmless suspicion. “So…you never did tell me what happened to you last weekend. You vanished on me. Did you find a hookup for long enough to stop thinking about work?”

Those words pull Kara from her admittedly disturbing thoughts. Oh, was Bianca willing to acknowledge that she let Kara down? “B…”

Bianca leans forward, grabbing a piece of bread, dipping it in olive oil and parmesan. “Was he any good? Do tell. Please say there was tongue, down there. You know. Like that guy back when we were in college. Homecoming weekend. October, I’m sure of it. Shit, we’re getting old.”

Fuck it. Kara downs the last remaining inch of her martini as Bianca stares at her in open mouthed wonder. Gagging slightly around the acidic burn, Kara drinks from her water glass, nodding to their waitress that she does indeed want another martini. She refuses to examine why she shouldn’t drink more. “I didn’t find a hookup. I went home, like I told you. I was drugged, also like I told you. It was dreadful and you didn’t even text me to make sure I was alive!”

She gives Bianca an accusing look, because even though she never expects to rely on Bianca, the fact of what happened stung. The words themselves are not a total lie. Kara didn’t find a guy; a guy and a limo full of guys foundher.

At least Bianca has the grace…or sense…to look like she feels bad about it. “Oh my. I didn’t…I’m sorry, alright? I’m an idiot. I thought you’d been exaggerating because you rarely drink anymore and are a lightweight. I mean…look at you right now. A second drink, Kara? That’s not you. Is something else going on?”

“Why do you think something is going on?” Kara tries to not sound defensive, tries to pass it off as bland and bored.

Bianca twirls a strand of red hair around her finger as she stares at Kara like she’s looking to unravel a particularly challenging piece of software code. Her profession, naturally. “Something’s wrong because your hackles are already up and you just pounded a martini. You aren’t drinking at home, are you?”

“Nope. I don’t keep alcohol in the house. You know I don’t.”

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