by Staci Hart
She put her hands up. “Okay! I didn’t know it was such a sore topic, jeez.”
Me neither. My mood had turned foul, stinking with agitation that I wasn’t quite able to sort out. My phone buzzed on the couch next to me, and I picked it up to a text from Christine.
Just checking in, still interested in going to Amanda’s party?
Maybe in part out of spite, I answered, I’m in. What time?
Let’s have a drink beforehand. Where do you want to meet?
I know just the place. I sent her the address to Habits and smiled.
Lily
The sweat on the glass of my third vodka tonic rolled onto my hand as I sat alone in my quiet apartment. Maggie had gone over to West’s just after Rose left for work, leaving me alone to contemplate my relationship status, or lack of one.
The stupid death-lilies mocked me from the table, perched in the ugliest vase we owned as a joke. I should have been more grateful. It really was sweet of him — I couldn’t even remember the last time a guy had thought to buy me flowers. But the whole thing had confused me just when I thought I was figuring out what I wanted. Namely, not him. Then he showed up being all sweet, and now I wasn’t so sure anymore.
I was left wishing for him again, or wishing for a version of him that I wasn’t sure existed. But that old image I had of him was so strong in my mind, so powerful, that I found myself a sort of slave to it. I wanted him to be that man so badly, I felt like I could nearly will it into existence.
I sighed, considering another drink, but I had to stop. Three drinks was well past my limit.
The door opened behind me, and I glanced over my shoulder to find Maggie striding in. “Have you moved from that spot?”
I looked back to my feet. “Nope.”
“Well, come on, lazy bones. Let’s go to Habits.”
I made a stinky face at my socks. “I don’t know. I have to get up early. Plus, I’ve already hit my drink maximum.”
“Then you can go just to sober up. We won’t stay long. West is meeting some girl there, so when they leave, I’ll be alone.”
This time, my stinky face was directed at Maggie. “A girl? What girl?”
She shrugged and grabbed her sweater off the back of the chair. “Christine, I think? Another TA.” She disappeared into it, and her head popped out of the neck hair-first, curls bouncing.
“Never heard of her.”
Maggie shrugged, but she was watching me like she knew something. “Weird. Let’s go sniff her out.”
I was already getting up. “Deal.”
I made my way into my room and pulled on light gray jeans, my favorite dusty rose V-neck, and dark gray ankle boots, inspecting myself on my way out. My hair was a bit of a mess after air drying — not hot enough. I marched into the bathroom and grabbed the hairspray and a comb, teasing the length of it and braiding it into a messy fishtail that I left hanging over my shoulder.
Better. I smiled at my reflection.
Our jewelry hung on a series of hooks and wires on the bathroom wall, and I chose a few thin gold necklaces and one long gold locket that was my grandmother’s. Then lipgloss happened. Then mascara and a couple of bracelets. And with that, I was all of a sudden fully dressed for going out.
I blamed vodka.
My boots clicked on the hardwood as I made my way out of the bathroom, still working the clasp of a last minute bracelet swap.
Maggie assessed me as I approached. “I didn’t know we were like really getting dressed.”
I shrugged. “It was an accident.” I grabbed my purse.
“Well, you accidentally look awesome.” Maggie smirked, and her phone dinged. She glanced at her screen. “West is downstairs.”
“Let’s not keep the man waiting.” I followed her out and closed the door behind us before locking it, though it took me a little longer than it probably should have. What? That hallway is dark. Also, I’m a lightweight.
I tried to sound nonchalant, but I was dying to know about this girl. Plus, vodka. Pretty sure my voice was a half-octave too high to be considered casual when I asked, “So, you don’t know anything about Christine?”
We made our way down the stairs, and Maggie glanced at me. “Just that he’s going to some party with her tonight.”
“Do you know what department she’s in at Columbia?”
Maggie smiled. “Nope. I know as much as you do.”
My brow furrowed. “He’s never mentioned her before.”
“Not to me, either. Guess we’ll see, huh?”
“Guess so.” Our footfalls echoed in the stairwell for a moment as we walked in silence. “I wonder why he hasn’t talked about her before. Couldn’t be that serious, could it?”
“You’re awfully curious about her.”
I laughed, trying to sound light. “I mean, it’s just weird. I thought West and I talked about everything.”
“You didn’t tell him much about Blane until the other night, right?”
“That’s different,” I scoffed.
“How so?”
“Because I don’t know what Blane and I even are.”
“Maybe Christine and West are the same.”
I made a noncommittal noise and pushed open the door to the building.
West stood near the curb in a gingham button-down cuffed just above his elbows. Tattoos climbed down to the middle of his forearm, hands in his pockets. His dark hair was down tonight, thick and curling just at his collar with ruts in the top where he’d run his fingers through it. When he saw me, his blue eyes sparked, or maybe I just imagined they did.
I took a breath, feeling overwhelmed by the sight of him. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to come after Rose’s vodka tonics. I wondered just how much heavier her pour was than I’d noticed.
I smiled at him, trying to cover the fact that I was staring at him and that I was still butthurt about his keeping Christine from me. But I thought about how I wanted West to like Blane, or at least try. And so, I decided. I was going to like her, no matter what. I was boarding the supportive train.
“Howdy, friend,” I chimed as we approached.
“Howdy, ladies.” His voice was deep and rumbling. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight, Lil.”
“It’s Rosie’s fault,” I said as we walked toward Habits. “She fed me drinks until I lost my ability to be responsible with my time. Plus, Maggie said she’d have me home before I turn into a pumpkin.”
He glanced at me, smiling. “Drinking and staying out late? Who are you?”
I chuckled. “Apparently a whole new me, one who will probably hate myself at five when my alarm goes off.” The conversation lulled for a second, and I fought the urge to mention Christine. At least I hadn’t lost all of my inhibition. I had to play it off like I didn’t care, even though curiosity was eating at me, scratching at my throat to get out.
“Do you work every day, Lily?” Maggie asked.
“Almost. My one day off a week is Monday, but I’ll have the summer off, sort of.”
“Wow. How many hours per day?”
“Well, I usually get to the theater early to go to the physio room, stretch, that sort of thing. Barre class starts at ten-thirty — that’s our warmup until eleven-forty-five. Then we have rehearsals from twelve to six, and performances anywhere from two to five nights a week, starting around seven-thirty.”
Maggie shook her head, gaping. “That’s crazy. How do you stand working that much?”
“Easy,” I said with a shrug. “It doesn’t feel like work. The season is from September to the beginning of June, and then through the summer we have classes and tours and stuff, but it’s much less rigorous.”
“You’re hardcore.”
I snorted. “More like obsessed.”
We approached the door to Habits, and West opened the door for us. I followed Maggie in, and when I passed West, he laid a hand on the small of my back. It was such a strange thing to notice, something he’d done a hundred times, but I’d never paid attent
ion before.
Stupid vodka. Worst idea ever.
Rose waved from behind the bar, pointing to three seats near the end. We walked through the light crowd, and West took the farthest of the three seats. Maggie snagged the first, leaving the stool between them my only option.
Rose tossed her towel over her shoulder and leaned on the bar, smiling as I took my seat. The necklaces she had on lay nearly in her cleavage in the scoop-neck black tank she wore, and her black hair framed her face and shoulders. She even had red lipstick on tonight. The girl made a killing as a bartender.
“What are you doing here, Lil? I figured you’d be passed out by now.”
I shrugged and tucked my purse in my lap, only slightly annoyed. “I’m allowed one night of staying out until ten, aren’t I?”
She poured me a water and shook her head, smiling. “Anything you want. What are you two drinking?”
“Makers and ginger,” West answered.
“Same for me,” Maggie added.
“Maybe I wanted a drink too, Rose.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What can I get for you, princess?”
I smiled. “Water’s good. Thanks for asking.”
“Typical.” Rose rolled her eyes, laughing as she set two rocks glasses on the counter and filled them with ice. “So what are you guys up to tonight?”
Thankfully Maggie answered because I wasn’t even sure why I was there. “Just came down to say ‘hi’ and keep West company while he waits for a friend.”
Rose poured whiskey over the ice. “Cooper or Patrick?”
“Christine,” West said, and Rose’s eyes shot over to him.
She made a face at him. “Who’s Christine?”
God bless Rose. I waited for his answer, sipping my water.
West shifted on his stool, looking a little uncomfortable. “A sociology TA I know. We’re going to a party that another grad student is throwing.”
Rose’s eyebrow climbed as she handed him and Maggie their glasses. “A Columbia intellectual boozer? I’ve always wondered what happens at those. Do you get wasted on cabernet and talk about Neitzsche?”
He brought his drink to his lips. “Don’t be gauche. We drink pinot noir and compare margin notes on Lolita.”
Rose snorted.
“Hey, guys.” Cooper said from behind us. I turned to greet him as we all chimed our hellos. He looked fantastic, as always — like a rich motherfucker who didn’t even care that he was rich. You wouldn’t know by looking at the tall, dark, and stubbled playboy that he was loaded. It was in the little details. His Cartier watch. The Pierre Maheo coat and Massimo Dutti shirt that no one would know were designer, and pants that fit him like they were made for him, which they might have been. He was somehow elegant and casual all at the same time.
The dude was a walking vagina magnet.
Rose poured him a neat scotch, passing it to him between West and me.
“Thanks, Rosie.” He raised his glass at her before taking a sip. “What are you doing out, Lily?”
I huffed. “God, is it really that surprising to see me out on a weeknight?”
They all looked at me.
I put a hand up. “You know what? Don’t answer that.”
Cooper smiled. “Don’t get me wrong. I approve.” He nodded to me and West. “Did you guys decide if you’re coming to Noir on Saturday?”
Maggie’s face lit up. “What’s Noir?”
“A club you’re not going to,” West popped without missing a beat.
“You’re not the boss of me.”
Cooper shrugged. “It’s true, you know. You’re not the boss of her. She can come if she wants to.”
Maggie bowed her head at him. “Thank you, Cooper. I’d love to. It’ll be my first real New York nightclub. I am absolutely in.”
West rested his elbows on the bar and sighed. “Guess I’m going too, then.”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “I don’t need you to babysit me.”
He scoffed. “If you think I’m letting you go to that club with only Cooper to make sure you’re all right, you’re crazy.”
I blurted, “I’m in too, and so is Blane.” All of them turned to look at me. “What?”
West stiffened next to me, and Rose gave him a pointed look. “Nothing. We’re all looking forward to meeting him. Aren’t we, guys?”
At least Rose had my back. “Thank you, Rose.”
She gave me a supportive smile, though her eyes darted to West once more before she made her way down the bar toward a drunk guy who was waving at her like he was drowning.
“Are we still on for the opera tomorrow night?” West asked, sort of snippy.
I gaped at him. “Why would we not be? We’ve been planning it for months.”
He shrugged and looked into his drink, leaning on the bar. “I don’t know. You sure Blane’s going to be okay with it?”
My eyes narrowed. “I don’t know, are you sure Christine will be?”
His brow dropped. “She’s just a friend, Lil.”
“Funny, I’ve never heard of her before tonight.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but his eyes shifted to look behind me. I turned to see a tall, slender woman with long pitch-black hair walking through the bar, waving, eyes locked behind me. On West. I glanced back at him to find him smiling at her as he stood.
“Hey, Chris.”
She approached and reached up to kiss him on the cheek. “Hey.” She hooked an arm in his and turned to the rest of us.
I couldn’t help but check her out — long, skinny legs in dark jeans, bangles on her arm, simple gold necklaces around her neck disappearing into the opening of her deep red button-down that was unbuttoned a little too far, if you asked me. From what I could see of her boobs — which was enough, by the way — they were amazing.
Every intention of liking her for West’s sake jumped straight off the top of the Chrysler building.
Cooper’s eyes roamed up and down her body, the action thinly veiled by his diversion of sipping scotch. Maggie’s gaze bounced between me, her brother, and Christine. My face felt like a mask, and I realized my eyes were locked on the spot where her fingers grazed the skin of his forearm.
I looked up and put on my best smile. It must have been a homer because she didn’t seem to notice that I pretty much instantly hated her.
I turned to Rose with that fake-ass smile on my face. “Can I get a vodka tonic, please?”
She gave me a look that told me to be nice, but she poured me a drink, which saved her from getting slapped.
West fumbled for a moment before speaking. “Ah, I’d like y’all to meet Christine. Chris, these are my friends, Cooper, Rose, and Lily, and this is my sister Maggie.”
She waved. “Nice to meet you.”
Cooper stuck out a hand. “You too.”
Christine took it, blushing ever so slightly. “Cooper Moore?”
He flashed that pantybomb smile at her. “That’s right. What are you drinking?”
“Rum and Coke, please.”
I turned my back to Chris and West to give Rose the real What the fuck eyes, glad to see that she had her fake-ass smile on too.
“Sure thing,” she said in her waitress voice.
“So,” Maggie said with an edge to her voice, “West says you go to Columbia too?”
I turned back around and instantly regretted it when I saw her smile. It really wasn’t fair for someone to be that pretty.
“I do. We’re in the graduate program together. Hopefully we’ll be in the doctoral program together, too.” She was grinning, and her grip on West’s arm tightened.
I took a long sip of my drink. I couldn’t be sure, but it seemed like West wanted to pull away from her. The hold she had on his arm would have made dislodging her difficult without being rude, and West wouldn’t be blatantly rude. It was against his genetic Southern code.
He was uncomfortable, which was oddly satisfying.
Cooper took the rum from Rose and handed it to C
hristine.
“Thanks, Cooper.” She took a drink.
We stood in awkward silence for a beat. Christine looked around the bar. West’s eyes were on the door. The rest of us watched each other, thinking a million things we couldn’t say out loud.
“So, sociology, huh?” I said lamely.
She gave me a patronizing smile. “Yeah. Don’t worry, no one really knows what exactly that means.”
A laugh burst out of me. “What a pompous thing to say.”
West coughed, and Cooper choked on his drink.
I kept the ball rolling, pretty sure I could recover it. “I actually love sociology. I find people fascinating — humanity and the patterns in human behavior. I read What about Mozart? by Howard S. Becker last year.”
“Well,” she stammered, “I, ah — his work on deviance has always been groundbreaking.”
West pounded his drink, eyeing me.
“I think so too, Christine.”
She smiled and turned to West. “You know, I don’t want to be late. Maybe we should get going.”
West’s eyes were dark. “Good idea.” He set the empty glass on the bar with a super-hot Christine still on his arm. “See you guys. Be good, Mags. Take it easy, Lil, okay?”
“Yup.” I gave him a look that said I’d do whatever I’d want and took a drink. “You kids have fun now!” I raised my glass.
“Thanks, Lily. Nice to meet you. Hope to see you guys again soon.” She smiled up at West like she’d won the goddamn lottery as they walked away.
“Oh, us too,” I called after them, and Rose pinched the back of my arm as she waved the hand that wasn’t assaulting me. “Ow, Rosie! What the hell?”
“That was so fucking rude,” she hissed.
I crossed my legs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You called her pompous, you ass.”
I shrugged. “Well, she was being really fucking pompous.”
“She seems perfectly nice.”
“I’m sure.” I took another long drink, and Rose shook her head at me.
“What in the world is the matter with you?”
