“Ohh, that sounds like a story.” She stops her massage to pick up her wine. “Do tell.”
I go for broke. “I was engaged two years ago and left him at the altar.”
She coughs on her wine and looks at me with large eyes. “You’re joking! I’ve never met someone who ditched at the altar.” She leans forward. “That took courage.”
She doesn’t know the half of it.
“Was he a creeper? Found out he was boning his dog or something?” She replaces her wine glass with more fries, still eating them by the handful.
I can’t contain my laughter as I try to picture Max, Mr. Lawyer Extraordinaire, getting cozy with his mother’s Labradoodle, Lord Byron. But as quick as I am to laugh, I’m just as quick to sober.
“He was all—what do you English say, broody? For one of the law clerks in his office.” I confess for the first time. “Every time he looked at her he got this stupid, sappy grin on his face. He’d get all nervous when she was around. It would have been cute if I wasn’t the girl in the office wearing his grandmother’s engagement ring. If people didn’t always give me looks of pity.” If I had someone who looked at me like that. Just once, even. “It was obvious he wanted her more than he wanted me.”
“Filthy bastard.” She pours more malt on her fish before breaking off a bite.
I nod in agreement. “But that’s not why I left. I mean to say it wasn’t the initial cause for why I left. Truth is, I wasn’t in love with him either. He was...familiar. I’ve known him since our mommy-and-me playdates.”
Jayne grabs her napkin and begins to wipe her hands. She sits back and stares, studying me. “What made you leave?”
I look around the bar. The steady stream of people coming in. The groups gathered in sections laughing and getting rowdy. I return my attention to her. “You ever been in a room like this, full of people, and felt utterly alone? As if you were invisible and weren’t sure you even existed out of the mold someone else created for you?”
Jayne shakes her head and quietly says, “I’ve often felt alone in crowds like this but never invisible.”
“What made it worse was the crowd of people was my family and the guy who was supposed to love me forever but didn’t even see me.”
Jayne covers her mouth, following it with a slight head shake. “I would’ve never guessed. Do you still feel that way?”
“Invisible? No,” I lie. Well, partially lie. I don’t often feel that way anymore. Only where Will is concerned.
It’s a heavy bomb to drop on someone you’re getting to know, so I try to ease the weight. “That and I thought about sex with this man for the rest of my life, and I couldn’t stop yawning. He doesn’t like to be sweaty.”
We laugh together.
“What about you? Any skeletons in your closet?”
Jayne holds her wine glass between her hands, a large smile on her face. “Not me. I don’t do anything that spans past a month. Six weeks tops.”
“Seriously? Even if you really like them?” I lean against the bar, anxious for her to share.
“I try not to pick guys that I could really like, that makes it hard to leave. But I really don’t have space in my life for anything more than casual, and I’ve found that after a few weeks casual becomes familiar. Men generally don’t like a successful woman. At least the ones I’ve found don’t.”
She glances at surfer guy. “Truth is, once I stand up and men see how ghastly tall I am, they either back off or come at me like they’re hunting giraffes and I’m a conquest. They want to see if their face lines up with my tits.”
“Does that actually happen? Guys begging off when you stand up?” She’s certainly tall but not freakishly tall. More like model tall.
“More than I care to count. I suppose I shouldn’t complain.” Her shrug expresses an indifference I’m not certain is real.
I tap my finger on the bar in thought. “Hmm. Men are assholes.”
Jayne laughs. “We should go out sometime. Someplace other than here, where my mum is not so quick at hand.”
I shrug, hoping she doesn’t recognize it for the lack of commitment it is.
“Give me your phone,” she says, holding out her hand, her fingers wiggling.
“How do you know I’m not some crazy single white female or something?” I pause, my hand on my back pocket, fingertips on the phone.
“I have a radar for crazy women. My cousin’s mum is a true nutter. Learned early with her. Hand it over.”
After pulling out my phone, I slide it across the bar.
She picks it up and, I presume, adds her number to my contacts before texting herself. She hands me back my phone then fidgets with hers.
“There. We’re BFF’s now.” She giggle snorts and covers her mouth, surprised. I laugh as well.
“I don’t think I’ve ever said that before without being sarcastic.”
“I’m sure I’ve never said it unless I was teasing my brother,” I say and slide my phone back into my pocket. I return to what I’m supposed to be doing. I fill more drink orders and refill Jayne’s water glass. I’m reaching for her wine glass when she snakes out a hand and stops me.
“Are you cutting me off?”
“Do you think you need another drink?” Neither of us moves our hands.
“I think I’d like another drink.” She presses her lips together to keep from laughing.
“I think you’d also like to get your bookkeeping completed, accurately. Don’t look now, but here comes surfer dude.” I clear any extra dishes from the space around her and she waves away her nearly empty dinner plate. She flashes me her teeth and I give her the thumbs-up; she’s clear of all food particles.
“Hey,” Surfer doll says, leaning against the bar. “I couldn’t help but notice you noticing me.” He sounds like a cliché. His words are slow, deliberate, as if he’s thinking them up on the spot and it requires a tremendous amount of brainpower.
Jayne and I glance at each other and look away before we both end up laughing.
“I do apologize,” Jayne says. “I wasn’t noticing you as much as I was staring at the space over where you were.”
Jayne motions to the wall along the far side of the bar where a sign proclaiming Hard Work is the Path to Success hangs.
“I’m doing my accounting and the sign is motivation to not pack it in.” Jayne’s hand rests on the leather books spread before her.
“But you’re noticing me now, aren’t ’cha?” He leans forward, or more sways forward.
I pull the table number up on the computer and see that for a table of three guys, they’ve ordered five pitchers of beer. Catching Jayne’s eye, I hold up a pitcher and five fingers.
“I’m not, actually. Without a doubt you are in my space and I see you, but I’m not noticing you in the way that you’d like.” She pushes him back and he burps in her face, blowing it out.
“Sorry,” he says and waves the air between them.
“Mmm. As am I,” Jayne says but the sarcasm is lost on him.
I laugh and turn away so surfer guy can’t see. Jayne convinces him to go back to his friends without causing any sort of commotion, an art I admire.