‘It wouldn’t be a Sara initiation unless you go home and throw up your guts at the end of the evening,’ I teased.
‘Oh that’s 100 percent in the cards,’ he said while laughing loudly.
‘Sexy.’
‘Oh, I wish. Just very gross, explosive vomit.’
His accent made every word much more endearing than their meaning. I lifted my glass, and we clinked.
‘So, how’s being an assistant?’ I asked.
‘I’m not a personal assistant,’ he pointed out. ‘It’s just one position below her.’
‘Oh, don’t tell her that,’ I said.
I was enjoying the back and forth. Sara’s colleagues would usually be vile queens with a Birkin and a full make-up bag.
‘Ha ha, I know. No, it’s nice. It’s very different from what I did before. I worked in accountancy.’
My eyes were doubtful. ‘You had a previous job? You’re like twelve,’ I said, while scouting him up and down.
‘I’m thirty-two years old!’
‘What? Lies!’
He genuinely looked twenty at most.
‘I’d show you my driver’s licence, but it’s super-duper embarrassing.’ He giggled. ‘Just trust me on this, please.’ He quickly brushed my hand with his.
‘I was gone two minutes and you two are holding hands already?’ said a very inebriated Sara. She sat down next to Duncan and in front of me. ‘Isn’t he adorable?’ She pinched his cheek.
‘Be right back, just need the loo,’ he announced, while getting up and escaping Sara’s hand.
‘He is indeed adorable!’ I confirmed. ‘Very unlike the rest of your queens at work.’
‘Don’t be mean,’ she said, while putting her finger on my nose. ‘So, let’s get to the important stuff. Where the fuck have you been these last couple of days?’
‘Nowhere. Just had a few dates,’ I said, without much conviction.
‘Of course, that’s what you’d be doing,’ she said, with a hint of disappointment. Almost as if it wasn’t an exciting enough excuse.
‘Why, what’s up?’ I gulped a big sip of my very pungent pub wine.
‘Well, I was hoping you’d tell me when you’re free. I want to go wedding dress shopping.’
‘Oh. Is it like the movies? A montage of you trying hideous crap while your bridesmaids and I get pissed on prosecco?’ I was very excited at the idea.
‘It better fucking be.’
I hadn’t heard mention of him yet, so I felt like I needed to ask. ‘Are you and Alfie okay? I feel like I haven’t spoken to you properly since he didn’t show up to your birthday.’
She squinted. ‘He did. You were just too drunk and gone to see him. He came late. He apologised. All good. For now.’
She rolled her eyes up.
‘You sure?’ I wasn’t too convinced.
‘Yes, he’s not beating me up, Leo,’ she scoffed.
‘I was worried about the other way around, really.’
‘Ha, fuck off,’ she said, while throwing a piece of napkin at me. ‘You look a bit ill. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m just tired from work, that’s all. Usual shit day.’ I brushed it off.
‘Have you been applying for other jobs?’ she nagged.
‘No, I have been too lazy.’
Meanwhile, Duncan had made his way back to the table, drying his hands on his skinny jeans.
‘These toilets are rank. Were you guys shit-talking behind my back?’ he questioned, looking at both of us.
‘Absolutely.’
‘No, just about to kick Leo in the arse for staying in such a shit job, when he could be doing so much better.’
‘Oh, what do you do?’
‘Shop girl,’ I responded, while doing jazz hands.
‘He is a manager of a luxury department store.’
‘Oh cool!’ he exclaimed while smiling at me.
‘Assistant,’ I pointed out, without much enthusiasm.
‘He hates it, but he won’t do anything about it.’
‘Oh, what would you like to do?’ he asked.
‘He is a really good writer,’ she responded, before I could even mutter an answer.
‘Don’t you love when you get to that stage and your friend just holds the conversation for you?’ I said, while throwing a napkin ball at her.
‘Writer? What kind of writer?’
‘The one who doesn’t write,’ I retaliated, snappily. ‘I don’t think anyone would even want to read my crap.’
‘Oh, my god! Just sit down and do it!’ Sara rolled her eyes and looked at Duncan. ‘Do you know how many excuses I have had to hear for the last decade?’
‘Pleeease, let’s talk about wedding dresses. Show me your mood board,’ I said, attempting a subject change.
‘Mood board? Who did you take me for?’ she said with a corrugated expression, as if I had asked her to shave her head bald.
‘Oh, god. Wedding dress! How cool!’ Duncan exclaimed.
‘You are more than welcome to join,’ she said, oddly. Then looked at me, cheekily. She was up to something. She was always up to something.
We ended up all teasing each other and drinking until two in the morning, when I finally passed out in an Uber that would hopefully take me home. Not the healthiest start of the week.
I woke up to a phone bursting with notifications and a pillow drenched in sweat. I fell asleep wearing my clothes and with my contact lenses stuck to my eyes. My mouth felt like a station toilet and all I wanted to do was to throw up everything I had ingested in the previous ten hours. Unfortunately, I wasn’t a fan of vomiting. I’d endure the sense of nausea and go onto my far more nauseating day at work. I needed coffee, desperately.
I was pleased to see Duncan had followed me on Instagram a few hours before. I got onto his profile and he looked exactly like in real life—always smiling, always with a Guinness in hand. A few trips here and there, but no photo that indicated a boyfriend.
Grindr was also bursting with messages by random people, one of which was Gary, who I hadn’t seen in some time. Since my other men were paying so much more, it became redundant to see him, but I guess I always needed wine money. Also, the amount of effort required was a lot less.
Later this eve? I texted him. I wondered if I could fit a date with someone else straight after. I knew it was overkill, but I really wanted not to worry about money for the engagement party.
I took off my dirty clothes from the night before and jumped straight into the shower.
I sat in the tub, while the hot water fell on my head. The last few weeks had been intense. There was a part of me that was still downplaying the fact that Sara was actually making real plans for the wedding. An engagement party? Dress shopping? I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it. And Alfie? Was I really that thrilled for my best friend to get hitched with someone so unreliable? What was ‘reliable’ anyway? I followed stranger men from the internet all the way to other countries for money. No one knew what I was doing. If I got murdered, no one would know. I loved morning thoughts.
I also didn’t forget that Jake and Marc had planned the trip to Japan that Jake and I had discussed doing together since the very beginning of our relationship. I couldn’t believe that Jake would be capable of hurting me so much. I needed to tell him. I needed for him to hear me out. That’s what I’d do that evening. I’d let myself be blown by Gary, take the cash, buy a bottle of wine and take it to Jake, hoping the little shit wouldn’t be there.