“Shut up!” I peer back over my shoulder again, and now he’s smirking at me. Smirking. “Oh my god, I can’t stop looking at him! What the fuck is wrong with me?”
“Uhh, you’re sexually repressed with a history of shit boyfriends and a family full of bible thumping drama queens that you can’t seem to escape. This coming from a Mexican, no less.”
“Jerk.”
“Just telling it like it is,chica.” She over-emphasizes the word and her grin reminds me of the Cheshire Cat. All she needs is some stripes and for her head to pop off and start floating around the room. “So, you like him? Don’t bother lying, because Bex told me you do. She texted my like thirty seconds ago ratting you out.”
“Bex?Seriously?She wasted no time. Okay, fine. He’s fucking gorgeous, but he’s so out of my league. Like, that’s supermodel dating material there. I mean, at the least, Hollywood B+ list.” I take a drink and sigh. “He deserves to be railing Kennedy all night, not me.”
“Stop selling yourself short and enjoy yourself. Besides, Jamie is about as down-to-earth cool as an artist can get. Well, when he’s not dreaming of his new muse.” She winks at me like she knows something, or at least tries to. Dani can’t wink to save her life. “Oh! Here he comes, and he looks like one very hungry wolf eyeing up his dinner. Rawr.”
I concentrate on the ice in my glass as he joins us. I don’t bother looking until he slides a fresh drink in front of me. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see him give Dani another beer and I’m not altogether sure how I should interpret any of this. I should have stayed home.
“Aww, trying to get me drunk, Jamie? That won’t work! You’ve seen me drink.” Dani turns to me and yell whispers, “It’s safe, you can drink it. He used to bring me my drinks when I was on stage. I trust him.”
“Hey!” Kennedy yells, the slur already apparent in her words as she joins the conversation. Evidently, she’s been here for a while. She points a crooked finger with a long, sharp, hot pink nail in his direction. “Aren’t you the guy?”
James looks at Dani and shrugs. “I mean, I’maguy.”
“You are! You’re the coffee shop phone guy! Are you like stalking me or something?” She wiggles her shoulders as she speaks, like some kind of deranged mating dance.
“Kennedy, you idiot,” Dani smacks her arm. “This is my friend Jamie. He works for Sam as a freelance photographer. He’s working on that project with Lexi.”
“No shit! WAIT! You’re also the Uber pastry guy?!” Her mouth drops open in fake surprise and I’m forced to watch as her figurative teeth come out. She knows I’m interested—or whatever I am—so she wants a piece of him before I have a chance. She leans forward to push her boobs out a little more and flashes her bright white smile. “Well, tell me next time you swing by the office. I could give you a very special private tour.”
“Gross, Kennedy. Gross,” Dani says, smacking her arm.
“Oh my god, this is my song!” She holds her hand out to James expectantly.
“Oh, uhm, I’ll pass. Thanks.”
“Ugh, whatever!” She grabs the hands of the two guys next to her instead and drags them to dance in the crowd.
The three of us talk for a while and order more rounds while Kennedy dances with a new guy every few minutes. By round four, I’m hitting right about tipsy levels and the numbness is settling into my body. Dani and James have been cracking jokes back and forth for a while now, and they’re having fun, but I’m bored. I feel a bit like a third wheel. Fourth if you count Kennedy.
“Hey, I’ll be back,” I tell Dani, and head out onto the dance floor. I let the music take over, and the world outside of the beat slips away—no projects, no work, no guys, no parents. It’s only me and the bass line.
I catch a glance at Dani and see a round of shots hit the table. Dani waves to one of the girls at another table, and I recognize her as someone she’s hooked up with before. Good for her. I had just started getting into the music when someone bumps into mehard. I spin around, and of course, it’s Kennedy.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! Fuck, I need a drink. Come on!” She grabs my arm and pulls me back toward the table. Dani and James stiffen up at the sight of her, and I brush Kennedy’s hand away.
“I’m gonna stay out here.” She huffs. I don’t need to be there while she climbs all over James. She’s just mad because she wants to rub it in my face. She waves me off and slithers up beside him, her hand on his arm, and then on his thigh. Her boobs pushed against him. My stomach drops when he laughs along with her. Seeing the way she’s hanging on him makes my insides crawl. She always does this when we’re out, so it shouldn’t surprise me. But this time it actually hurts.
“Hey! Lexi, right?” comes a voice from behind me. I turn and while I recognize him, I can’t place him. He must see the blank stare on my face because he keeps yelling at me. “I’m Shaun! I work at Sintax! We met a few months ago at LACMA.”
Oh shit, I do remember him. We might have made out in one of the side rooms of the last mixer I went to. These things always go one of two ways. Either it’s a snooze fest and everyone is talking business and sipping on lite beers. Or it’s a nineteen eighties corporate holiday party where it’s guaranteed someone has done a line of coke off the tits of a coworker while photocopying her bare ass.
“Shaun! Hi. Did you cut your hair or something?” He’s not terrible looking, but he’s not James. Besides, he was hotter with longer hair.
“Yeah, that’s why you didn’t recognize me!” Or it’s because I never cared to remember you.
Fuck this. I don’t need this shit. “Wanna dance?” He nods eagerly, so we dance. He wastes no time before he’s grinding on me like a drunk monkey, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m drunk, I’m high, I’m pissed off. Why shouldn’t I enjoy myself? Maybe, if I act interested enough, Kennedy will swipe this one up in her talons and fly away.
I can’t hold a candle to Kennedy. She has that supermodel-level body that matches James’s good looks brilliantly. If they were together, people would say things like they’d make cute babies or whatever bullshit they say when pretty people inevitably hook up. I know I’m too thick in all the wrong places. I wear glasses, and my sense of fashion is comfortable cat lady minus the cats. She could be on Baywatch; I could be an extra on a documentary about creepy swamp witches—which suits me just fine.
Dani motions for me to come back to the table, but I ignore her. When I glance back at her a few minutes later, I get the evil eye of doom and know shit isn’t going well. Kennedy winks at me and scoots forward on her chair so that he’s standing between her open legs. He’s not my problem. He’s a big boy. I turn back and see that my short-term dance partner has moved on. Against my better judgement, I head back over to the table.
Kennedy looks over her shoulder. She knows I’m right there and that I’ll hear her when she says to James, “You’ve got really pretty eyes. Ever had your dick sucked in a bar bathroom before?”
