But Kayla ruins that plan, whipping her head around to look over her shoulder where my eyes just were. “What?”
“That’s him. Jack, the guy from work who I was just talking about.” I’m talking out of the side of my mouth even though I know he’s too far away to be able to read my lips. She does her best to casually look him over and swing her gaze back to me like she wasn’t just checking him out, but out of the corner of my eye, I can see that his smirk has expanded to a full smile. Of course he expects to be checked out by every woman within range and we’ve just handed him a victory lap in that department.
I give him a small wave and he tilts his head in acknowledgment.
Do I go over there? Invite him to our table?
Both of those thoughts make me nervous and I’m not sure why. He’s the same guy I sit next to every day, but somehow in the social, pickup atmosphere of the bar, Jack looks every bit the self-assured, strikingly handsome guy who could easily have the on-air news gig of his choosing. It bothers me that I feel a flutter of attraction in my belly, and I take a sip of my drink, as though the alcohol will kill the butterfly that’s taken up residence in there.
“I guess it makes sense he’d be here. It’s right by work. Probably where he trolls for rich, divorced women.”
“He’s hot,” she says. “And honey, he wouldn’t have to work very hard. He could have any woman in here.”
I nod. “I know. It’s his personality that’s the problem. Immediate turnoff. He’s arrogant and his ego is the size of Kansas”
“I kinda think you’re full of shit.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, he’s… him. Spectacular. And you have it bad for the guy. I can tell by the way you were making excuses about why you don’t like him and now by how you’re blushing.” She sneaks a look behind her again, which comes off as not at all subtle. “And he’s seriously smokin’ so I don’t blame you.”
I hate that I’m blushing. I have fair skin, inherited from relatives who hailed from merry olde England, and I turn pink at the merest suggestion of embarrassment. It makes it hard to keep a poker face. I don’t care so much with Kayla, but I wish I could keep it under control at work.
“He kind of asked me if I wanted to meet him for a pity drink but I said no.”
“He called it a pity drink?”
“No, but that’s what it was. He’s horrible to me on a daily basis. He thinks I don’t deserve to have my job and he never misses a chance to tell me I’m doing it wrong.”
“Could it be like the boy who pulls your ponytail in school because he thinks you’re cute?
“Only if telling the deputy bureau chief that it was a mistake to hire me is like pulling my hair.”
“Okay, he’s slightly less good looking because of that.”
A tall woman in a perfume cloud blows by us in stiletto heels and a pencil skirt and I follow her scented trail to where she’s air-kissing Jack, who looks as happy as a teenager to have the cleavage in her V-neck sweater all to himself. I can’t see her face, but her platinum hair and taut body confirm everything I’ve ever suspected about him and the kind of women he dates.
“He said he was meeting someone, but I somehow thought it would be a guy.”
“She’s no guy.”
“I can see. I don’t want to judge her by her heels and foul perfume, but she seems slutty.”
“Glad you’re not judging.”
“Whatever. He can date who he wants.”
I look away before Jack catches me staring. I’m happy that his date has arrived because it puts to rest the worry about whether I need to invite him over or even talk to him. I see them move to a table on the other side of the room and exhale a relieved breath. I just want to have my drink in peace and seeing him here is just a reminder of work and the humiliating way I blew my chance at a scoop.
One hour later, Kayla and I have finished our happy hour food and drinks and I’m feeling much better about my life and my prospects for getting through tomorrow without falling on my ass again.
Jack and his slutty date have moved to a low table like ours and he seems completely enraptured by her, not that I’m looking over there. Very often.
Kayla catches one of my surreptitious glances and pokes me with her finger. “Ouch,” I say, even though it doesn’t hurt that much.
“You need to do something about that,” she says.
“About what?”
“Your fixation on him. You either need to fuck him or forget him.”
“I’m working on forgetting.”
She swirls the remains of her drink in the glass. I notice that hers somehow still has ice, even though mine has melted. She shakes her head, glancing in his direction again. “Not the option I’d choose if it were me…”
“He’s the last thing I need right now. This job has to go well. I might not get another opportunity like the Examiner.”
“You might not get another opportunity like him.”
“Oh, please. There are tons of guys like him but not a lot of jobs like this one.”
“I know, I know. You have the whole theory.”
She’s making fun of me, but my theory has been borne out by science. Or at least several years of failed experiments in my own life. “I’m not capable of having a great job and a relationship at the same time.”
“Who’s saying anything about a relationship? Just one night? Get that bad boy out of your system and go back to kicking ass at work.”
“You know it doesn’t work like that. At least not for me. I get… involved. And distracted. And then I screw up the job.”
“Well, I have a different theory.”
I take the last swig of my drink, which is very watered down from the melted ice. It tastes like kombucha. “Yeah, what’s that?”
“You use the work thing as an excuse not to take a chance on guys. I mean, come on. You’re a very capable human. I’m sure you could multitask if it came to a guy who looks like that.”
I shake my head. “Not true. I’ll blow it. Just like I have in the past.”
She points a finger at me. “Wrong. Your theory is wrong.” There’s no point in arguing with Kayla. She’s a litigator and she’ll badger me until I take her side on any issue. This one is best left languishing.
“Fine. Whatever you say,” I tell her.
Our server drops off the bill as Kayla’s phone pings with a text from Lucas. She reads it and frowns. “Everything okay?” I ask.
“Yeah, I don’t know. It’s something with his car.”
“We can leave if you need to…”
“No, sit tight just let me call him.” She takes her phone out to the sidewalk so she can hear. Out of habit, I check my own phone and scroll through tweets and news feeds to make sure there isn’t breaking news I need to know about. Even after hours, if something breaks, we might need to put something in the digital version of the paper. It never ends.
While I’m still scrolling, I hear a voice next to me, “Hey, you guys giving up your table?”
I look up and see a blonde guy in his twenties holding a light-colored beer in a footed glass staring down at me. He smiles. “I’m not trying to rush you. But this is a good table, so…”