Page 10 of The Mistakes I've Made
Finally, his cyborg programming must have kicked back in because he turned toward the door to leave.
“Troy?” I said meekly, completely hating myself for the tears currently trailing down my cheeks.
“Yes, Miss Hart?”
“Do you think you could do me a favor and not tell my father about the crying?”
He didn’t say a word, but I saw a brief nod in my direction before he grabbed the door handle and exited.
Well, at least the tin man of an assistant still had a sliver of a heart left. There was some hope left for him after all.
Unfortunately though, there wasn’t even a scrap left for me.
“You sure you want to drink that?” Piper asked, pointing to the double shot that had just magically appeared at our table.
And by magically, I meant, I’d waved my finger, and the cute bartender I’d massively tipped to keep the alcohol flowing in my direction had walked his adorable butt over here and placed it in front of me.
He might have also dropped a note with his phone number too, but party-pooper Piper had snatched that out of my hands before I could get any ideas.
Something about making enough bad decisions for one night.
Whatever.
The night was just getting started, and the bar was filled with tons of people just waiting to make poor choices. To our right was a rambunctious bachelor party, and to our left was some sort of girls’ night out. Their shrill laughs made my eardrums hurt, but I kind of dug eavesdropping on their conversations.
“Why would you even ask that question?” I gave her a wide-eyed look that caused her to roll her own set of peepers.
“Why? Because this isn’t you, Lani! Flirting with the bartender, drinking shots… You’re acting out, and you know it.”
I gave her a look that said she was seriously destroying my buzz.
“Fine,” she relented. “But don’t call me in the morning, complaining about your massive headache.”
I made a sound from my lips that reminded me a lot of the noise Piper’s little niece made when she was spitting out baby food.
“Please. Like I’d ever do that.”
We both knew I would. It was how this whole friendship thing worked. She took care of me, and I took care of her. It was symbiotic…well, mostly. I thought Piper gave more than her fair share of motivational speeches.
Especially when it came to my dad.
That was exactly why we were in a bar and why I was currently ordering shots like I was a college freshman on spring break in Cozumel.
Or at least, I thought I was.
I really had no idea the frequency of shots ordered on a spring break in college. Piper and I’d spent our spring breaks ordering room service in my high-rise penthouse while binge-watching all the TV shows we’d missed during the year.
“Why didn’t we ever do anything fun for spring break?” I blurted out, deciding to sip my latest round of shots. My lips were starting to feel sort of tingly, and I had a nice buzz going. No use in ruining it.
“Because you were always hopeful that your father would show,” she said. “Every year, you’d send him the dates of every break we had, from fall break to Christmas and right through to spring. And every year, he’d miss every last one of them.”
Grabbing my shot, I downed it.
So much for sipping, I thought.
The bachelor party nearby cheered me on, causing me to blush as I held up my empty shot glass in their direction. The girls next to us laughed. I couldn’t help but overhear one of them talking about a recent vacation. I was in the hotel business; it was kind of my whole life. And wasn’t that just a little sad?
“The hotel was horrible. Absolutely horrible. I don’t know what my husband was thinking when he booked it. Thank God it’s for sale. Maybe someone decent will buy it or, better yet, bulldoze the thing!”
