Page 12 of Big Trouble
Not quite, Ciara, not quite.
“Of course not!”
“But he said or did something to upset you?”
I sighed and looked down. “I don’t think I’m the right person to get through to him. I think someone else needs to take on his case.”
Ciara’s mouth fell open. “What? You’re kidding! You’re the best PT around here, present company excepted. You can’t let him break you after one session.” She narrowed her eyes. “I never had you pegged as a coward. You’re driven and determined.”
Perhaps that was why Jack seemed to hate me. I wasn’t the usual compliant, putty-in-his-hands kind of girl. He’d have more joy with Ciara.
“But you could…”
She held up her hand. “One more time. Give him one more try and if he makes you cry again…”
I perked up. “You’ll take over?”
Ciara snorted. “God, no. I’ll buy you a box of tissues. No way amIworking with Jack Cairney.”
“Please, Ciara.”
“Not gonna happen. You can’t say anything to make me change my mind.”
“I’ll do your laundry…”
“Nope.”
“I’ll buy groceries and cook for us all week.”
“Nice try, but no.”
I had one last shot to try to convince her. “I’ll get us dinner at the bar tonight. I know how much you love karaoke.”
There was a pause and for a millisecond I thought I’d won.
“We’ll definitely go to the bar tonight. I think you deserve a drink for dealing with that prick. But I’m not taking over his treatment. You’re stuck with him.”
CC’s was around half-full when we arrived shortly after seven. Ciara had insisted we get dressed up and already the denim skirt ranked high on my regret list. It felt like I was pulling my hem down every two minutes to make myself look decent, even though it stopped way down my thigh. She thought it would be good for me to get out there, chat to some guys, forget all about what happened with Jack. It would have been a great idea, except for the fact that barely anyone ever acknowledged my presence. Everyone else had grown up together and knew each other. It was tough to break into the well-established groups. I really was on a downer tonight. It didn’t take a genius to work out why. I should’ve stayed at home and watched Chicago Fire on a loop.
“No-one even speaks to me at the bar,” I complained, trying to catch the barman’s eye. “It’s awkward.”
“You could try talking to them too,” commented Ciara.
She fluttered her fingers at a group of guys who definitely didn’t look familiar. Judging by their clothes—a step up the fashion ladder from the usual Cali Cross attire—they were probably from out of town. Finally, there could be someone for me to talk to! My mood brightened a little.
The barman came over and stared directly at Ciara, waiting to take our order.
I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, I give up.”
While she gave him our food choices and selected a decent bottle of wine - I was paying after all - I checked out the guys. It had been a while since I’d been on a date. It had been a barren time.
“Come on, let’s grab that table.” Ciara pulled me over to a booth near the stage. If she thought she was getting me up singing, she could think again. Although I’d probably change my mind after a couple of glasses of wine.
We were about to be beaten to the table by another girl. She looked a couple of years younger than me, with long, glossy black hair piled in a messy up-do. Whenever tried a style like that, I looked like an angry bird had tried to nest there.
“Sorry, we were going to take this table,” I started.
“Then I’ll join you.” She grinned.
