Page 15 of Achievement Unlocked

“Whatever you have on tap that’s dark and imported,” I said.

The waiter studied my face for a moment. “I need to see your ID.”

Normally I’d be flattered, but today I wasn’t in the mood. “Are you serious?”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em. Besides, we ID everyone under 40.”

I swore every single part of me deflated. “I don’t have my ID. I promise you I’m old enough.”

“Rules. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine with water.” I probably shouldn’t be drinking anyway, but as soon as Jeremy showed up, I was getting my beer. I’d earned it.

“Same for me,” Nigel said.

Our waiter left, and silence settled in.

The TVs around us were playing different flavors of sports, including a poker tournament re-run, recaps from the previous night’s basketball game, and a streamer playing the most recent first-person shooter from Rinslet—the other major video game company in the state.

With the lack of conversation, in the darkened room, muffled TV noises mingling with the clink of dinnerware and metal from the kitchen, the events of today sank in deeper. This was supposed to be the happiest day of my life. The beginning of my happily ever after.

It was certainly where the fairy tale ended, but I was pretty sure the wicked queen’s story arc was about to start, rather than the joyfully married princess I’d pictured myself as. Maybe when Gretch held her wedding shower, I could show up uninvited and curse her.

Something I’d never really do, but right now I wanted so badly to be the person who made waves. To uncover my inner Karen and lose my shit all over Gretch and Easton.

Or maybe she’d reap her own karma and the same thing would happen to her that she’d done to me.

And Easton…

My throat ached and my eyelids stung. “I’m sorry in advance if I cry,” I said to Nigel.

“If you do, you do.” He covered my hand.

That definitely wasn’t helping.

6

landon

Icouldn’t get the shitty interview out of my head, and I didn’t know why not. It wasn’t any different from any of the other dozen or so I’d been to in the last several months.

Except that I expected this one to go better. I walked in with a decent attitude, I clicked with the team, I’d already aced the screening and the interview with management. Maybe I’d read too much into their questions, and I still had a chance. I needed to cling to positivity.

As I stepped through the back door of the bar where I worked, my phone buzzed with a new email. My gut sank when I saw the name of the recruiter who’d screened me, and the We’re sorry…in the preview.

I clicked through anyway—best to know the news now and get it over with. Sure enough, the message said they were sorry, but they’d decided to go in another direction, but they thanked me for my time and they’d keep my resume on file.

I doubted the last bit, which made me doubt the sincerity of the entire email.

Fuck it. It was Friday night, this place would fill up in about two hours, and that usually meant great tips and a few opportunities to hand out my business card. At least the bar owner didn’t care that I took my clothes off at private parties as a side job.

I clocked in and stepped up behind the bar to join the guy who opened. It was dead in here now, except for a couple sitting a few tables away.

He was wearing a suit—a little odd, but not too much.

She, on the other hand… I squinted in the dim lighting. Was that a wedding dress? It might have been at one point, but the jagged cuts along the bottom, and the bits of green stuck here and there, meant it probably wasn’t anymore.

“Megan?” I muttered. No. It couldn’t be her. The woman I hadn’t been able to forget since her bachelorette party. The one who was marrying a man today who made her cry when she was drunk, even without him being there.

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