“Sounds boring, like my job.” Liz sipped her margarita. “But hey, at least you don’t have to go into an office. I wish I could work remotely.”
Liz was right—the drinks were delicious. Strong and tart, not too sweet. We finished them quickly, and the conversation began to take less effort. Halfway through the second round, we’d fallen into a fluid banter. Except for the fact that my parents lived in Palm Beach, nothing I told her was true. But I wasn’t worried. Though discerning, Liz didn’t seem like the type who would go home and stalk me online. Besides, I hadn’t even told her my last name.
I waited patiently for an opening—some perforation through which to redirect our conversation toward you and Jake—but none was presenting itself. I could tell by the way Liz kept an eye on her phone that she was getting antsy and that we probably wouldn’t stay for a third drink. I had to act fast.
“So how long have you lived with your boyfriend?” I asked. I hadn’t eaten since lunch—a healthy salad from Chopped—and I could feel the alcohol working its way through my system, wrapping itself around my senses. I was getting drunk.
Liz pointed her chin forward in thought. “Since the summer. Eight months.”
“And before that you lived with the Danner Lane girl?”
“Yes.” She laughed softly. “Danner Lane girl. A.k.a., the now-famous Molly of ‘Molly’s Song.’” Liz’s lips curled into a sly smile, and her eyes looked a little unfocused. Perhaps she was tipsy, too.
“I’ve heard that song.”
“Right. Who hasn’t?” Liz cocked her head. “It’s an overrated song, in my humble opinion.”
“I assume that means they’re back together?”
Liz stared at me, her dark brows knitting together. “Huh?”
“Didn’t you say … before, you said … they broke up.” I felt my face flush. “Maybe not.”
“Oh.” Liz shifted on her stool. “A couple of months ago, right. Yeah, that was short-lived. He cheated on her, I guess—she saw some picture of it. But he claimed he didn’t and that someone set him up or something.” Liz shrugged. “Molly kind of sugarcoated it when she told me the story. She knows, obviously, that I don’t trust Jake.”
“You don’t?” I leaned forward on the bar, pressing my elbows into the stained wood.
“Hell no.” Liz clinked the watery ice around in her glass. “He’s a gorgeous fucking rock star, with an ego the size of Mount Everest. She hardly even knew him when they moved in together—it had barely been six months. And now he’s cheated on her and she’s in denial, and it’s not the first time something sketchy like that happened, either. It’s just kind of … pathetic. I always thought Molly had more self-worth than this.”
I studied Liz’s face, the slightest hint of jealousy etched into her expression. And of course she was jealous, Molly. You had Jake Danner on your arm—a gorgeous fucking rock star, like she said. I felt powerful, suddenly, knowing my little scheme had been so effective. You and Jake had reunited, okay, but even your friends thought you were pathetic to forgive him so easily.
“Well, do you think they’ll last?”
“Who the fuck knows.” Liz peered at me quizzically, scrunching her nose. “Why are you so curious?”
“I … I’m not.” The bartender caught my eye, and though I wanted nothing more than to order another drink—to stay there at the sleek, comfortable bar prying Liz about you and Jake all night long—I sensed my time was up. “Sorry, I just … Jake looks so much like my ex. I’m kind of a fangirl.”
“Ha. You and every other chick in the city, it seems.” Liz held up her palm, waving for the check. She turned back to me. “Well, trust me when I say Molly and Jake are boring as hell these days. If she ever ditches him, I’ll let you know.”
The bill appeared in front of us. Liz dug out her wallet—black Chanel—but I swatted my hand. “I got it,” I insisted, dropping four twenties on the bar. No way was I using my credit card—what if Liz happened to see my real name?
“Cool.” She slipped on her trench coat. “I never carry cash. What’re you, Caitlin, a drug dealer?”
We walked out onto the street, a chilly wind nipping our faces.
“It’s going to be May next week, and it’s fucking arctic.” Liz frowned, pulling her jacket closer. “Spring in New York is so deceiving.”