Page 25 of Someone Just Like You

“Do you have a special wine selection for parties or can we choose à la carte?” Jude asked.

Partnering with Jude made my prepared list of questions useless, so while he went over the liquor options with George, I half-listened while reading a text from Timothy asking when I wanted to go out again. Then Jude dropped a comment about being a certified sommelier and I nearly dropped my phone. I’d had no idea. I responded, “As soon as possible” to Timothy and closed out of my texts.

“For sparkling, would you rather go with Champagne or cava? We also have prosecco,” George said.

“What’s the difference?” The room grew silent like a proverbial record had scratched. My neck grew warm. “Sorry?”

George smiled kindly. “It’s a common question. All three are sparkling wines, but Champagne is only made in the Champagne region of France, cava is made in Spain, and prosecco is made in Italy. There are also differences between the three in flavor and bubbles and even within each category.”

“Thank you!” You learned something new every day.

Jude coughed into his hand. “Ignorant.”

I jutted a hip. “Excuse me for not being asommelierlikesomepeople. Doyouknow the difference between a patent, trademark, and copyright? Didn’t think so.” Despite my sharp retort, I was smiling on the inside. Mean Jude was back, and I could handle him. It was the Jude bearing gifts and uttering apologies who rattled me.

After we told George he had our votes and we would circle back once we ran it past our siblings, we said our goodbyes and headed outside.

“Damn, it’s humid.” I raised and lowered my elbows to air out my sweaty pits.

“Do you always do the chicken dance when it’s hot? Is that your thing?” He mimicked my “dance” moves.

“Fuck off.” My multicolored plaid dress was adorable. It was also polyester—a hot-weather “don’t.”

Jude chuckled. “Let’s grab a beer and text the others. We can watch the Yankees. There’s a day game today, and you’ve been following the sport since you were a kid, right?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Some of us have to work.”

“I promise you’ll be back at your desk in plenty of time to lure happy people into taking horrible jobs.”

My stomach clenched. “A beer would be good.”

Johnny’s Bar was a tiny neighborhood dive that smelled of sour beer and possibly mold, but a four-dollar pint of Rolling Rock probably tasted the same no matter where you drank it. “I love these zebra-printed stools.” Unfortunately, cute didn’t mean comfortable, and I wiggled my butt from side to side for the perfect fit.

Jude looked up from his phone and caught me mid-wiggle. “You would.”

My phone pinged. It was a group text from Jude to our siblings laying out the details for holding the party at Society Cafe. The last sentence read:

Jude:Mole and I agree we should have it there.

Reading the words “Mole and I agree” was almost as weird as the actual agreeing part. Keeping those thoughts to myself, I said, “I didn’t even see you typing that.”

“I’m stealthy.” He took a sip of beer and watched the game on the flat-screen television above our heads.

Back-to-back texts came in from Alison and Michelle.

Alison:It works for me. And by the way, Molly and you agree? Isn’t that something?

Michelle:You two agree? I’m dead. DEAD.

I choked on my beer.

Jude gave me a quick glance before dropping his gaze back to his phone. A moment later, another text landed.

Jude:We also agree that you guys are annoying as fuck.

I chuckled.

Another text popped up.

---