Page 101 of I Saw Her First

I let my breath out in a long stream, telling myself that’s a fair response. I’d probably behave exactly the same way if I were in his shoes.

But I have nowhere to be and nothing to lose.

I slide onto a barstool and watch him work, acutely aware of the other bartender—the woman who laughed uproariously at Jesse’s earlier words—eying me the entire time.

Eventually, she comes over, her pretty face scrunched in a frown. “You can’t sit here if you’re not going to drink,” she says pointedly.

I pull my purse out with a sigh. “Can I get a glass of merlot, please?”

She fetches my drink and takes my money, then hovers near me behind the bar when there’s a lull in the crowd, letting Jess and the other bartenders serve.

“He’s taken,” she tells me as I watch Jess pour a line of shots.

I glance at her. “What?”

“The guy you keep staring at.” She motions toward Jess. “He’s mine.”

Despite her frosty tone, I fight the urge to smile. Jess is dating her? Good for him.

“I’m not interested in Jess,” I say, and her eyebrows lift at my use of his name. “So… I’m happy for you two.”

“You know him?”

I take a long sip of wine, deciding how to answer. “Yeah. We’re… friends.”

She glances from me to Jess, who’s restocking the cocktail napkins on the counter and studiously ignoring me, her expression doubtful.

“I mean, we were,” I clarify. “I let him down recently, and… I need to apologize.”

Her face softens. “Sothat’swhy he’s been weird all week.”

I give her a curious look. “He didn’t tell you? I thought you were together.”

“Uh…” She smiles sheepishly, picking up a rag to wipe at an invisible stain on the bar. “We’re nottechnicallydating… yet.” Her mahogany eyes flash to mine, full of fire. “But we will be.”

I can’t help but grin. Gotta love a woman who knows what she wants.

“Maybe you can put in a good word for me,” she adds, looking hopeful.

I sigh. “Hard to do that when he won’t talk to me.”

She taps her index finger to her lip for a moment, looking thoughtful. Then, sweeping her long braids over one shoulder, she says, “Leave it with me.” She walks away to speak quietly into Jess’s ear, and he shakes his head, frowning at me. Another word from her, a huge eye-roll from him, and he stalks out from behind the bar, shoving through the crowd to my side. I’m astonished when he bends down to say,

“You have five minutes. Make it good.”

Christ. I don’t need to put in a good word for her. She’s already got him wrapped around her finger.

“Can we go somewhere less crowded?” I ask, knowing I’m pushing my luck.

He glowers at me, then looks over to my new friend—I’ll need to get her name—motioning that he’s popping outside. Relief trickles through me as I follow him out of the bar and onto the sidewalk, into the soft apricot light of late evening. It’s cooler out now that summer is slipping into fall, and I pull my thin sweater tighter around me.

“Thanks, Jess,” I say as we wander slowly along the bustling pavement toward Tompkins Square Park.

“I’m not doing this for you,” he mutters, hands shoved into his pockets. “I’m doing it for Simone.”

Simone. So that’s her name.

“I like her.” I try to smile at Jess, but he’s kicking his sneakers angrily along the sidewalk, refusing to meet my gaze. “And I think she likes you.”

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