Page 15 of The One I Need
“I know you did. So when I didn’t see you after a certain time of the night, I figured you pulled your classic Irish goodbye and took off. But then I come to find out that not only did you stay, but that you left with a man. And then didn’t leave until the next morning, wearing some man’s clothes.”
I feel my jaw dropping and my eyes popping. How does she know this? I didn’t see anyone we knew when I left the next day. Yes, I knew I probably drew attention to myself when I left in oversized gym clothes, wearing my heels, but I thought I was in the clear.
Apparently not.
“Face it, Izzy. You’re busted, so you might as well come clean.”
I let out a sigh, knowing I can’t get away from this conversation. There have been many times over the years where the tables have been turned and I’ve made her have difficult conversations with me. I knew sooner or later it was going to be my turn.
“Fine,” I groan. “Yes, I did try to leave the wedding when I told you I was going to. But the carts weren’t running yet to take me back to my car. So I came back inside and went to the bar. That’s when I met Oliver.”
Hazel’s feet fall off my desk, and her eyes bulge out of her head. We’ve now worked together for the better part of a decade, and this is probably the first time I’ve ever said a man’s government name. Usually if I’m talking about a guy he gets the fun nicknames like “Twinkie Dick” or “Douche Canoe.”
“Okay…Oliver,” she says as she gathers herself.
“He’s just a guy I met at the bar,” I say, trying to sound convincing. “He was nice. We laughed and got super drunk together.”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “And…”
“And what?”
“Don’t ‘and what’ me. Because no way am I going to believe that you just hung out with this guy and said goodbye at the end of the night.”
“What if I did?”
“Then I’d ask who you were, what you did with Izzy, and when are you returning her to planet Earth?”
I laugh under my breath. “Fine. We went back to his room.”
This makes her smile. “And?”
Normally I don’t mind gloating about my sexcapades with Hazel. And I’ve had many over the years. Some of them she’s accused me of making up because of how wild they’ve been. But this one I want to keep for myself. I’m also choosing not to read into that at this time.
“And we had a great night.”
“That’s it?”
I nod. “Yeah. That’s it.”
Hazel blinks a few times, not expecting that answer from me. I can’t even be mad since I don’t know who I am right now.
Yup, he was a wizard.
“Okay,” Hazel says, clearly trying to think in the moment of what to say to me next. “Sorry, Iz, I’m a bit thrown. Usually I buckle in for fifteen minutes of intimate details of his tongue ability.”
I laugh. “I know. And for the record, ten out of ten.”
“That’s a little better,” she says. “Okay. So we have Oliver, who gets a real name, with a ten out of ten tongue that has made you a raging bitch this week. Am I right so far?”
“Yeah. Though I don’t think I was a raging bitch. Maybe grumpy twat.”
“Same thing,” she says. “So, since this is brand new territory, I’m going to ask you a question that I’ve never asked, and you can’t get mad at me. Deal?”
“Fine,” I say with a sigh.
“Are you going to see him again?”
“Ha!” I laugh out loud. “This might be bizarro world, but let’s not get crazy here.”
