Page 21 of Strike
“I always believed work drinks were a bad idea,” I retorted. “There are some people in this world you should never see drunk. Your boss is one of them.”
“You have a point.” She laughed and shook her head.
My mood had only soured the closer the tram had carried me home. I’d thought over every little detail from my night with Mark and couldn’t find the point where it had gone so wrong. His default response to most of my questions had beennothing special. Had it been doomed from the start?
“You look like you need a drink,” Macy said as I sat in the closest chair before I fell on my ass. “I’m making you a cocktail.”
“I’ve already had, like, three gin and tonics,” I said, slouching against the table and resting my head on my arms.
“I could do with one anyway, and you can just sip it if you want.”
Tinkering around in the kitchen, she opened and closed cupboards, gathering ingredients. Retrieving some ice from the freezer, she dumped it into the blender and slapped her hand against the lid. Then she twisted the dial, and the little room was filled with the loud and obnoxious sound of ice being crushed. I watched the little appliance struggle with the cubes, but as they broke down, it began to whirr happily.
“Now,” Macy said as she turned the blender off and began mixing something bright red. “Tell me about the guy. Did he show?”
“It was awkward as hell,” I said with a moan. “I felt like a stop on the way to somewhere more important.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Macy said, handing me a glass. “The guy pulled you out of a burning building.”
“And I bullied him into contacting me.”
“To be fair, you didn’t expect your post to go viral the way it did.”
I sipped at the drink, which was some fruity concoction with a heavy tang of vodka. When I posted that message, I wasn’t exactly in a coherent state of mind. I’d just woken from a bad dream, my head was all mixed up, and I had to get it off my chest. In hindsight, maybe I should’ve set the privacy to private and deleted it in the morning, but then I wouldn’t have found him at all.
“He was so evasive, Mace,” I said, staring at my drink. “He was half an hour late, and when I asked him about it, he said he almost didn’t come at all.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Okay, it is starting to sound a little jerky.”
“But when I got annoyed and went to leave, he practically pleaded for me to stay. I don’t get it.”
Macy sucked in a breath and gave me a look. “Sounds like the boy has problems.”
I frowned. Maybe he did, and I was a speed bump on the way to smoother waters. I wasn’t arrogant enough to think I was the calm in the eye of the storm he’d been looking for. That was a scene out of a movie, not real life.
“His name is Mark… He is so good looking,” I went on. “Muscled, rugged, an ass to die for… When he pulled me out of that fire, I felt something, and it had nothing to do with his cock. Maybe I was dreaming, but I thought he’d felt it too, but looking at him tonight…” I trailed off, not wanting to say the words aloud. If I said them, then they would be real, and I would still be as lonely as I’d always been. Then I would throw myself into the repairs to the shop so I didn’t have time to think about how awful my heart felt beating just for itself.
Macy snorted, and I glanced up at her. “Callie, one day, you’re going to see what everyone else does, and what a glorious day that’ll be.”
“See what?” I stared at her, wondering if it was the alcohol talking.
“You’re really beautiful, you know. In your own way.”
“Is that code for something?” I asked with a scowl.
“No, it means exactly that. There’s only one Callie, and she’s pretty hot.”
“I’m fat.”
“No, you’re not!” Macy exclaimed. “You’renormal. There’s nothing wrong with that. Besides, you have skin to die for, Callie Winslow. You’re like a fucking porcelain doll, you bitch.” She grinned and lifted her glass. “The grass is always greener, right?”
Rolling my eyes, I couldn’t stop the smile spreading across my face. “Right.” Iclinkedmy glass against hers, and we drank.
“So how did it end?”
“As awkwardly as it began,” I replied. “I asked him if he wanted to go out again, and he hesitated. He said he had somewhere else to be. Who has somewhere else to be at ten p.m. on a Friday night that doesn’t involve a prettier woman?”
“Callie,” Macy scolded.
