Page 51 of Until Next Time
Birdie
It’s been five days since I’ve spoken to Dawsen Jones; top of class ass hat. It’s been about thirty minutes since he’s spoken to me though. Turns out one of my hidden talents all along has been a little something I like to call “The Silent Treatment.” I never knew how good I was at it until recently. I’ve also had quite a bit of practice.
Dawsen has had many attempts at what I presume he thinks is a peace offering. Maple lattes, sticky notes with “I’m sorry” written on them that he sticks on my paint supplies and my car windshield. He’s even sent me a few texts. One of my personal favorites;“can we just pretend this never happened?” Yes, that one was a whole new low, even for him. Can we pretend that never happened? Boy, that is rich.
The bummer about having friends in the same circle as the man you’ve decided to hate forever—well, you end up being putin social situations with said person. Like tonight. River talked everyone into going to The Brick tonight for dinner and drinks.
I was going to bail but Casey convinced me not to. She said I should take theunbotheredapproach to the whole situation and act like I’m unaffected by Dawsen Jones entirely. Empowered. That’s the energy I’ll be putting off henceforth. Right when I’m done with the silent treatment, that ends this evening at 6:00 PM sharp.
I decided to invite Max to tag along tonight too. Which, honestly I feel a bit shit about. I don’t want to lead him on entirely, but his presence would be convenient tonight. Maybe now I can go into this with more of an open mind. I’ve always had Dawsen in the back of my mind, but since I’ve evicted him from my heart, I can now give Max hopefully more of my attention. Maybe.
* * *
I’ve spent all week making really good progress on the mural. The scaffolding was a game changer. I have about one more full week until it’s wrapped up completely. Which is perfect timing because I’d love to have a little down time before Christmas. And more than anything, I’d love to put a lot of space between me and he-who-shall-not-be-named.
“Hey, uhh, do you want to ride with me to The Brick tonight?” Dawsen’s voice is deep and low behind me. I turn around slowly, and I’m elevated on the scaffolding just enough to be about a foot above his eye level. I guess my silent treatment is going to have to end an hour early.
“Thanks, but Max is actually going to pick me up.” I say, sounding confident andunbothered.
“Oh, cool, okay…” Dawsen’s voice trails off.
I give him a close lipped smile, and look at him for a beat before I turn back around.
“I didn’t realize he was coming.” Dawsen finally adds.
“Yeah, well, I invited him.” I say, dipping my brush in a jar of water, then drying it off on a towel to make myself busy.
“Alright, well, I’ll see you guys there then.” He juts his chin up and slides his hands into his pockets before he turns and leaves.
My body feels tingly and I’m suddenly annoyed at the immediate physical reaction I have to him. Apparently my brain hasn’t informed my heart of the Dawsen Jones strike we’re on. That seems to be a pattern with me. My subconscious and my body betray me.
I turn back to my mural and try to finish what I was working on before I was sorudelyinterrupted, and I quickly realize that I’m suddenly way too distracted. So I decide to call it quits a bit early today. I brought a change of clothes for dinner tonight, so I clean out my brushes and supplies for the day then grab my bag and head to the ladies room for a little wardrobe change.
As much as I love my painting overalls, I love any reason to get a little dolled up. And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I’m dressing a little for revenge tonight. I’m wearing my favorite dark wash skinny jeans that i tucked into my knee high black leather boots that have a chunky heel on them. If you’re ever trying to take revenge on a man, your answer is always a corset top. And if it’s cold, a leather jacket on top. So that’s exactly what I’m wearing.
My revenge outfit is on and I give myself a once over in the mirror. I decide to leave my hair up in the messy bun I’ve had all day. But I put a fresh slick of lip gloss on as well as refreshing my mascara. I pull out my phone to check the time. Max won’t be here for another thirty minutes so I decide to head to the tasting counter and have a glass of wine.
I’ve loved getting to know Greg and Savannah while I’ve been working here the last few weeks. They’re really awesome. Greg has this very laid back confidence and wisdom to him, and Savannah is funny. Like the kind of funny that catches you off guard because it’s shockingly crude, but in the best way. It’s highly entertaining.
I throw my overalls and converse into my bag and head out of the bathrooms and towards the tasting counter. To my relief, Dawsen isn’t here, and I see Savannah pouring a couple glasses for an older couple towards the end of the bar.
I walk up and take a seat a couple seats down from the couple. The winery is fairly empty right now. Their Saturday night crowd usually starts pouring in around 6, which is perfect timing for me. I can have a nice glass of something red before Max gets here.
“Damn girl. If I didn’t love dick so much, you might have me reconsidering.” Savannah sidles up on the other side of the bar as she reaches for a glass and begins polishing it before setting it in front of me. There’s that sense of humor I was talking about.
“Savannah. You are making me blush.” I do an imaginary toss of my hair over my shoulder for theatrics.
She laughs at me and grabs a bottle of the uncorked Pinot Noir and starts pouring it into my glass.
I love that she doesn’t ask what I want to drink. She knows me well enough to know that I’ll drink anything as long as it’s not overly fruity and sweet.
“But seriously. You look hot as hell girl. Where are you headed tonight?”
“Thank you, really. I’m meeting River, Casey, and I guess Dawsen at The Brick tonight for dinner and drinks. Max is picking me up here soon.”
She raises her eyebrows like speculatively.
I laugh nervously.
