Page 12 of Rum & Coke
Well, fuck.Though Tessa met me as Vinny and not Duane. “Guess I didn’t make an impression on her.”
“I wouldn’t take it personally.”
“Why’s that?”
Before she could answer my question, her song ended, and the DJ was announcing the next dancer. “Come back tomorrow night. She’ll be here.”
There was no way I was going to be able to wait even if it was less than twenty-four hours. I nodded to the woman—I never got her name because it didn’t matter—and fished my phone from my pocket. I sent a text to Tessa as I stood to leave:
Hey, it’s Vinny. Wanna go to dinner tonight?
Before I could start my engine, my phone dinged with a text.
Tessa:Hey! Sorry, Ican’t tonight.
I groaned because Iwouldhave to wait almost twenty-four hours.
Me:Lunch tomorrow then?
I watched the dots on the screen dance and then stop. Dance and then stop. Finally, I got a reply.
Tessa:Are you buying?
I chuckled and responded back:Yeah.
Tessa:I can’t be more than an hour. I need to run errands before my shift.
Me:An hour works for me.
Tessa:I’ll meet you at noon in the parking lot of Red Diamond.
Me:See you then.
Paul:Getting a new roommate next week. I think we should haze him or something.
Me:Haze him?
Paul:I’m assuming he’s transferring from another S&R. We should give him the Vegas welcome.
I laughed as I read his text.
Me:What’s the Vegas welcome? You and Gabe didn’t get hazed.
Paul:New ritual then.
Me:Then you think of something to do.
Paul:Already planning it.
The next day, I went into work, made sure my class was set for the day, and then told Principal Fitzgerald that I was still feeling ill from my sick day prior. I’d never skipped work for a woman before, but Tessa agreed to a lunch date with me and I wasn’t going to cancel it. It was a date, right? When she gave me her number the other night, she said she only wanted to be friends, but yet, she agreed to go to lunch with me. Maybe we were only going as friends? Time would tell.
I arrived at Red Diamond ten minutes before noon. I hadn’t been that nervous since the night of my first date as an escort.
Ken had asked me to cover for him. Somehow he’d overbooked his time, and instead of canceling with one woman, he offered up a friend to be her escort. That was where I came in. He knew I needed the money. My entire life was dedicated to turning pro and going to the Olympics for men’s beach volleyball. I’d obtained a full ride to The University of Southern California, but it was short-lived because I’d gotten hurt two years ago during my sophomore year. They took my scholarship away, but I didn’t want to be a quitter, so I stayed enrolled, decided to become a teacher, and received a few grants. But I was broke, eating ramen noodles, five dollar pizzas, and PB & J’s to survive.
“It’s two fifty an hour,” he said.
I could eat a steak dinner with the extra money, so I agreed to do it. “What do I do?” I asked.
