Page 94 of Intoxicated
Chapter 31
DREW
“You really should wear a tuxedo more often,” my mother says, hands primly in her lap and ankles crossed in that insufferably ladylike fashion. She’s wearing a gaudy silver dress covered in sequins, like this is the ‘80s or something. Her hair is only big, though, because she has it up in a giant twist that shows off her dangling diamond earrings, but not the birthmark on the back of her neck. That’s been covered up with concealer. According to family legend, my mother hid her birthmark from my father until their fifth wedding anniversary. He claims to have barely noticed it, and she was so mad that she had covered it up from him for so long that she chewed him out for another two years. “You look fetching, darling.”
“Thank you.” Yes, I look great in a tux, although I hate the things. Dreadfully itchy, even when they’re bespoke. Plus, it’s early August, and although it’s been a relatively tame summer here in Portland, it’s still humid as shit. If it weren’t for the air conditioning in the back of our limo, I’d be dying. “Where did you get those earrings?” I ask my mother. “Or were they a gift?”
She looks longingly at my father, currently scrolling through his phone. “They were a present for my birthday. Two weeks ago. You might have remembered that I invited you to my little garden party? The one you missed because you refused to come home for half the summer? I’m still a pillar of salt about that, Drew. There were some lovely young women I wanted you to meet. A few families of generous means have moved to the area this year, and every one of them has a lovely young woman of college age.”
“Bit young for me, really.”
“Nonsense,” both of my parents say, because that’s what gets my father to look up from his phone. “You’re barely in your thirties. That’s still plenty appropriate for a relationship with a young woman, as long as you keep it civil for the press,” my father continues. “It’s only when you reach forty that it starts to look a bit untoward. Then you have to wait until you’re sixty for it to be en vogue for you again.”
How do I keep from rolling my eyes at my own father? I wish I could say he comes from a different time, but he’s hardly twice my age. You know, that magical time when it’s suddenly okay for him to date twenty-year-olds again?
“Still, it’s nice of you to come since your sister couldn’t,” my mother says. “Even if your ulterior motive is to butter those men up for your new business.” She sighs. “Changing careers can’t be good for you at your age. Why you couldn’t stick with consulting, I’ll never know.”
“I’m more weirded out that he’s going into matchmaking.” Father shakes his head. “No offense, my dear, but that’s women’s work.”
My mother shrugs. “I suppose that gives him an advantage, though. Who would you rather get matchmaking services from? A woman you barely know, or a young man who was raised the way we raised him? He knows what men like you are looking for in women like us.”
“He’ll have his work cut out for him, that’s for sure. There are so few good women out there these days. Young women are such floozies.”
Instead of getting offended, my mother sniffs and agrees. “Even if you were a hussy in my day, you still kept it to yourself. Your husband was none-the-wiser, and everyone was happier for it. These days, young women are advertising their number of boyfriends on social media. Can you believe it?
My father pockets his phone before anyone could see what he was looking at on Instagram. (Let me guess… sexy bikini-clad “influencers?” I would be disappointed, otherwise. Also, not cheating on my mom myass. He’s probably sliding into some DMs where he sits.)
“Dating is rather a chore, yes,” I say, and leave it at that.
They’re right, though. The only reason I’ve decided to attend this soiree with them is because it’s one of the biggest in downtown Portland all year. It’s a great opportunity for me to shake hands, remind colleagues of who I am, and namedrop my new business venture I plan on launching later this fall. Brent nearly fell out of his chair when I told him, but said he’d be down for anything I had in mind. My old business is closed. We’re turning away prospective new clients and will soon rebrand with a new office and a new name. I’m still kicking a few around. Benton Matchmaking sounds hokey, but it’s my placeholder for now. I’ll probably consult with an old buddy of mine who is killing it in marketing. Granted, he does toothpaste and paper mills, but I’m sure he’ll spare some time for his old frat buddy who has some money to throw at him.
This is simply me testing the waters, anyway. I plan to expand my business to here in Portland as well as Seattle, because I’m familiar with the men (and women) in both. I’m sure I’ll bump into some of my old clients who are agog that I’m going into matchmaking when I just broke them up with their old bloodsucking honey.
I really don’t want to go, though. It’s Portland. Fancy rich people will be there. You know who else will probably be there because of that?
If you saidCher Lieberman,than you really are paying attention!
I know she’ll be there, unless she gets food poisoning at the last minute. The question is… does she know I will be there? Second question: what will I say when I ultimately see her walking around with some new guy?
Let’s assume I don’t actually see her. How disappointed will I be? Will I go home and wonder what I’m doing with my life? Why I’m still hung up on a woman who slapped me in the face on her way out the door?
We’ve established that I was in love with her. I still am, I guess. I haven’t done a damn thing about getting her back, though. That’s not my style. She wouldn’t respond to it, either. That would reek of desperation, and any chance I had of getting her back would blow away.
No. Getting her back includes a long game. Some distance between us. Giving her time to calm down and become open to talking to me again. Don’t think I’ve been sitting on my ass, though. I’ve been rehearsing an apology speech. Will I say it to her tonight? Probably not. It will be enough to make a quick appearance in her line of sight. Maybe coolly sip my champagne as we lock gazes. I’ll turn around first. Make her think I’m not interested in her anymore. If anything, I’d like to find out who she is dating now, because I don’t believe for two seconds she’s stayed single. In fact, I’d be disappointed. That wouldn’t be the Cher I know.
