“Finance guy?” I asked.
That earned me a dark look.
“That was the one from a couple months ago.”
“Ahh… lawyer guy?” I suggested.
“The one before Frank.”
Her frown made clear I was just digging myself deeper at this point.
“Frank… Frank…” I made a show of tapping my chin, but I knew who he was. Some Mr. Big knock off in Armani suits, he’d swept Daria off her feet when he came into the bar she worked at. A lot of suits tried that on, so the fact he succeeded said a lot about him. “Shit. You liked him.”
“I did.” The fine tremor in her hand as she tried to pour her next shot had mine snapping out, taking the bottle from her and setting it down. “But apparently it was ‘not that serious.’”
“Flying you out to Sydney to stay at some bougie penthouse apartment and fucking until you developed cystitis wasn’t serious?” I said. “Damn…” I topped off her shot. “So, men, amirite?”
“Men.”
We clinked glasses, wincing as the tequila burned all the way down.
Some hours later,I couldn’t feel my face let alone any second-hand embarrassment for letting someone’s husband pash me. We were sprawled out on our couch watching reruns ofFriends,throwing popcorn at the screen each time Ross talked about being on a break.
“You know what we need?” Daria was well and truly slurring her words now, her head spinning around so fast I half expected it to pop off.
“Therapy?” I replied. “To learn to love ourselves before we try to love anyone else?”
“Real men.” She nodded, gaining momentum with each bob of her head. “None of this… kind of guy.” Her hand gestured to the TV.
“Joey and Chandler?”
“Guys that work in offices and are CEOs. Lawyers.” She wrinkled her nose. “Guys who wouldn’t know hard work if it came up and humped their leg.”
“Oh-kay…”
“Salt of the earth guys. A real man’s man,” she said.
“Fairly sure a man’s man would be gay but whatever.”
“You know what I mean!” I should’ve lied and said I did, because right then she shoved me hard, sending me flying along the couch. Damn, maybe I drank a bit more than I intended. As my head spun, she turned around and crawled closer. “A man who works with his hands, who knows his way around tools.”
“Weird way to say you want a dude with a sex toy collection, but I’m listening,” I said.
“I saw this video tonight where this girl walked up to hot guys at hardware stores until she found a single one. This guy helped her out and now they’re married.” I looked on in horror as tears filled her eyes. “They’re married and it was beautiful and they have kids, a boy and a girl.”
“Oh-kay…”
“And they got them these little tool belts…” She brushed away her tears. “We’re going to Bunnings tomorrow.”
“For a sausage sandwich?”
Bunnings was the largest hardware chain in Australia, and their sausage sandwiches were legendary. My stomach rumbled noisily, reminding me I hadn’t eaten anything other than a few overpriced wings.
“For some good Australian tradie sausage.”
Daria flopped back on the couch, as if that announcement took what energy she had left. I forced myself to get up, the room tilting dangerously, but I managed to stagger over to the kitchen, retrieving some bottles of water and pain killers. I set some down beside her and then popped my own, gulping down mouthfuls of water.
“OK, well, how about you drink down that bottle of water and we’ll talk about it in the morning.” The hell we would. I was off work tomorrow and I intended to sleep off what would be a heinous hangover in the air-conditioned comfort of my room. “Drink the water and say goodnight, Daria.”
