Page 3 of Love & Other Disasters

“You haven’t heard back?” Violet ignored all the men ogling Elle.

Elle scowled and raised her hand to get the bartender’s attention. But she needn’t bother, he was already there with a wide smile, eager to please. If Violet tried it, she would have resorted to standing on a barstool and shouting, and then get scolded for being too drunk. She wasn’t. True story. Invisibility to the opposite sex was her superpower. Using her power, she scoped out their surroundings. Other women sat out in the restaurant area, but the bar part was hipster dude central. Most of them young, although a few dressed as though trying hard to hold onto that youth.

On the other end of the bar sat a guy with messy, sandy blond hair nursing a glass of amber colored liquid. Under the suit jacket, his shirt opened at the collar where he’d shed his tie. Clean shaven, he stood out from the others. Cute but a bit “bro” in that former frat guy way. But all grown up and a serious business man who wears expensive suits and unwinds with a glass of whiskey or another fancy beverage. What work did he do? Then his eyes landed on her, Violet turned, heart thudding in her chest. She didn’t want to give him the wrong idea. Guys who looked like him historically didn’t show any interest in her. She was safe in that knowledge.

Elle didn’t flirt with the bartender, she didn’t have to, she appeared uninterested and the guys flocked. A woman who knew what she wanted and her self-sufficiency evident in her body language. She started a tab and two drinks arrived on the bar.

“What’s this?” Violet asked.

“It’s called Hoffa’s inside job.”

She thought she was funny. “What’s in it?”

“Bourbon.” She smiled, holding her glass up in a toast. They clinked glasses and Violet held her breath, hoping this wasn’t too strong. It slid down smooth. “Hey, that’s good.”

“Why’d you ever doubt me?”

“The moonshine incident.”

Elle pointed at Violet. “We vowed to never speak of that again.”

“No, you vowed it. I was still in the hospital receiving fluids intravenously.”

“God, you’re such a baby,” she flashed an exaggerated grin, then sipped her drink, glancing around the bar. “Don’t look now,” Elle said with her glass covering her mouth. “Suited guy, eleven o’clock is checking you out.”

“Frat Guy?” Violet guessed, not moving. “Definitely not checking me out.” On the television the men in uniforms fought over a soccer ball.

Elle shook her head. “It’s been a few years since this guy was in a fraternity.”

“Oh, I know. He’s still very ‘bro’ and still not checking me out.”

“Don’t be so judgmental or you’ll never get laid. And yeah, he is.” The watch on her wrist lit up and vibrated. She tapped it reading, and frowned. “Brent’s running late. Jesus, he’s the whole reason we’re even here.”

“Let’s go grab a couch,” Violet gulped her drink.

“You should go talk to Frat Guy,” she said.

“What? No way.” Violet glanced in his direction, and he was still there and looking at them.

“Come on, why not? Live a little.” Elle signaled the bartender for more drinks.

Violet took in the already empty glass in her hand. When did she finish her drink?

“Look, you’re hot, so you don’t understand what it’s like for us normal girls. A guy like that dates Russian supermodels with six feet of leg and zero percent body fat named Katia. I, however, am missing seven inches and want eight of those pork tacos on the menu and wondering how big the jar of cheesecake is.”

Elle stared for a beat. “Okay, gluttony aside. Have you seen yourself tonight? You darling, are a babe.”

Maybe so, but the real Violet hid somewhere under seventy layers of spackle, paint, and an entire can of hairspray.

“Tonight is about fun and blowing off steam, right? Let’s not let the small change of plans ruin it. Besides, we have a bit of a reprieve with the guys running late.”

True. “I guess. But I’m still not talking to Frat Guy.”

“Yeah you are. He’s coming this way,” Elle said, handing her a drink.

“It’s not me,” Violet sipped. “Guys don’t come up to me in bars. It’s you.”

“Tonight’s tab says it’s you.”

“Prepare to lose.”

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