Page 3 of Mailroom Delight
That’s what I meant.
Yup, I was too drunk. Which meant I needed to grab a taxi home.
Shit.
I really didn’t want to leave my car here. I loved coming in and going home in my car, taxis just threw me off balance.
“You know what? Screw it. You’re right. And I want more wine.” She moved to the table where I’d placed the second bottle and brought it over with a packet of Cheetos.
I giggled at her trying to walk in a straight line and failing miserably.
“Did you respond to the last email?” She sat back down and popped the cork off the bottle.
“No. I haven’t. He keeps asking to meet with me.”
“You haven’t met him yet?” She looked at me, her eyes wide.
“Nope, and I don’t want to.”
“You’re going to have a hard time avoiding him.” She laughed as she poured herself a glass.
I inhaled the sweet smell that wafted from it and I knew I shouldn’t have anymore. But fuck it, I needed more. Another glass, or two. I hated when people criticized me. Especially when I was doing a good job.
I knew heart-warmth, and emotion were great, but they could also be a curse. I knew that all too well, and it was now my daily curse that probably –if I’m honest, and I am – resonates in my advice.
Today’s modern woman couldn’t afford to wear her heart on her sleeve. She would get taken advantage of. Simple. There was no way around it.
Unfortunately, a good eighty percent of guys were dogs. Okay, maybe I’d lower that to seventy-five and a half. And, I knew I may sound like I was an expert and on the receiving end of a lot of break ups, but the truth was I wasn’t.
I’d been burnt by love, but in a way that made me see truth. It opened my eyes to what I had and how precious it was. That it was hard to find, and I was lucky to have had it.
Luck.
That was what I thought it had come down to. Or, maybe God just leant me one of his angels.
Paul.
I closed my eyes to relieve the stinging sensation that gripped them at the memory of him. When I opened my eyes again I reached for the bottle Bernice had placed near me and poured wine into my glass until it reached the brim.
This whole thing. The emails, the criticism, and poor Bernice, was making me think of Paul.
I couldn’t think about him now. Not now. Later perhaps, like I usually did, but not now.
He tended to surface in my waking thoughts when I was depressed or annoyed. On this occasion I was going to trade depressed for angry.
“What are you going to do?” Bernice slurred. “Chica, you can’t hide forever?”
“Forget me, this meet up was for you.” I pointed to her. “The emails were for a laugh.”
She flicked her wrist at me. “I have to get over Cody. It’s simple. Good thing my best friend isAsk Paige. I can ask for your advice any old time.”
“My advice is to find the next guy who will rock your world. Forget Cody, there are absolutely more fish in the sea.”
“Hey, I think I deserve a little more ofAsk Paigeright now. Give me the kind of juice you’d give if I wrote in. Let’s pretend.” Her eyes flickered with mischief. She knew the kind of advice I gave, and yes, I knew exactly what to say. Even in my drunken state.
“Don’t even bother to waste time on that loser, Cody. Grab your next guy tonight. And not just any old guy.” I beamed at her and grabbed the ends of my ponytail. The dark ends curled around my thumb as I twisted it. “Get the hottest guy. Go to the wine bar on Main. The one all the finest men go to, and when you see him make sure he sees you. You got this, I know you do. Strike up a conversation and go to a five star hotel. Then have wild sex until you can’t even remember who Cody is.”
Bernice looked at me with her lips slightly agape. She fluttered her eyelashes and then started fanning herself with her hand.
