For the Love of Friends(32)

“Do you have a camel with you?”

“Cute. Real cute.”

“Hey, I saved you from Justin. Twice, by my count. It’s the least you could do.”

I opened my mouth to say he had only actually saved me once, but I had a feeling that sleeping with Justin might be more damning than being illiterate. “Fine,” I said. “But we’re even after this.” I threw my head onto my arms on the bar and began to pretend I was weeping.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Pat my shoulder, then go tell her I just found out my husband is cheating on me and you have to make sure I get home okay.”

“Will that work?”

“Yes. Now go tell her. With a straight face.”

He left and I continued to pretend to cry. “Lily! What happened?” Becca grabbed my arm.

“Shhhh,” I said. “I’m faking an emergency for Alex.”

“The guy who did the coffee note?”

“The same,” he said, returning. “It worked! She’s leaving.”

“Let me know when she’s gone.”

Alex waited another thirty seconds. “You’re good.”

I picked my head up and took a long sip of the new glass of wine in front of me. “Yes. I am. Alex, this is Becca, my roommate. It’s her birthday today. Becca, this is Alex, the groomsman in Megan’s wedding.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alex said, shaking Becca’s hand. “And happy birthday. Let me get you a drink.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Becca said.

“He’s a lawyer.”

“In that case, make it a bottle.”

Alex laughed. “For the birthday girl? You’ve got it.”

“Where’d you meet her?” I asked, gesturing toward the door after Becca had left with her new glass of wine. Alex and I had both taken seats at the bar.

“At Starbucks. I wrote her a note on a cup of coffee.”

“For real?”

“No. Are you always this gullible?”

I elbowed him. “Yes. I was born yesterday.”

“Promise not to judge?”

“Absolutely not. Judging is what I do.”

“I thought you did PR.”

“For a living? Yes. But my true passion is judging others.”

“I’ll consider myself warned. It was a Tinder date.” I cringed. “I know, I know.”

“Megan said you’re newly back on the dating scene.”

“Asked about me, huh?”

I rolled my eyes. “She told me you asked Tim about me first.”

“Maybe I did.”

I put my glass of wine down. I was getting flirty and that meant it was time to stop drinking. I was not letting wine lead me into the same pit with a second groomsman just because I’d had a rough day.

Evidently he felt the same way, because he also set his glass down. We sat in silence for a minute. “What’s the latest update on all the weddings?”

I put my head in my hands and groaned. “We’re at the bridesmaid dress shopping stage. It’s the worst.”

“Why?”

“Horrible bridesmaids and body shaming.”

He looked over at me. “At the risk of getting slapped for being out of line, what could they shame you about? Unless you were the one doing the shaming?”

I laughed. “Me? No. Although that would have been a great twist. When the one who thinks she’s in charge of the world told me to get a minimizing bra and a pair of Spanx, I should have looked her up and down and told her to get a boob job and eat a cheeseburger.”

“What’s a minimizing bra? Is that what you spent all that money on?”

“God no. It’s what it sounds like—it makes your boobs look smaller.”

“That’s a thing? How long was I out of commission for dating? What year is it? I want to go back to 1985!”

“Calm down, Marty McFly.” I found myself smiling despite my day. “How long were you out of commission?”

“Married three years. With her for eight.”

I raised my eyebrows. “That’s a really long time.”

“Too long, it turned out.” He picked his glass back up and took a drink. We sat in silence a moment longer. “How about you? Why are you single?”

“I get married once a year and then kill the guy and drink his blood to stay young.”

“Sounds about right.”

I hated that question. And I’d had quite enough experience with it to be a pro at dodging it. But he didn’t push, which, oddly, made me want to answer. Well, sort of answer.

“I don’t know. I guess I just haven’t met the right person. I don’t think there’s one soul mate out there. But I haven’t found anyone who I’ve been like, hey, let me spend my life with you. And I’m really good at sabotaging things that aren’t quite right.”

“Instead of settling when they aren’t. Good for you. You should sabotage it spectacularly when it’s not right. Don’t settle. Settling is bad.”

“Remind me not to play Oregon Trail with you.”

He laughed heartily. “Oh we are going back to 1985, apparently.”