...with a splash of Kay, page 7
“You’re standing in it. Why not host it here?” I should have known she’d say that. She never passed up a business opportunity.
“You know, I really don’t want to mix my two worlds like that.”
“You’re so weird.” She couldn’t understand why I kept Lola’s from my colleagues. “Wait, hold on.” Her phone was ringing. “Let me get this.” Sisi walked toward the stairs and down to her office.
“Hugo’s,” I heard Milo call out. I turned to face him. “Hugo’s is a great spot for your work event.” I tried to recount if I’d heard of Hugo’s before. Milo must have mistaken my silence for annoyance at his eavesdropping. “Sorry, I just heard you two talking and—”
“No, no! Thank you. Tell me more about the space. I don’t think I’ve heard of it.” He took out his phone to show me photos. He’d been working over there too. “We’re almost finished up, see,” he showed a video of the near finished space. As he did, his shoulder met mine, and I smelled his cologne again. Subtle but sexy.
To my luck, Hugo’s was similar to the idyllic venue I shared in the pitch meeting, including floor-to-ceiling windows surrounding a bar and lounge overlooking the city.
“It’s in NoHo. You can tell they’re not fully open yet. The ground floor is still being worked on, but the upstairs space is finished. They’re planning a soft opening in a few weeks, so maybe they’d be willing to host you. I can ask the manager if you want.”
“Ah, yes, yes, please!” I grabbed his arm, unable to contain my excitement.
“All right, all right. No problem.” He laughed. “And does this mean I can get your phone number?” If I wasn’t mistaken, I’d think he was flirting with me. I nodded and added my number to his phone.
“Lucky me,” he smiled. Okay, he’s flirting. I got nervous and ran to the liquor room, pretending I needed to stock my bar for the night. Instead, I checked my phone. Still nothing from Adam, but an email from Andre.
Andre: Natasha’s list isn’t too bad. I left voicemails for each venue. Hopefully, we’ll hear by Monday. You’re welcome.
Kay: Thanks, Andre, but I got a lead. Will know soon. Fingers crossed!
And with that, I put my phone away to focus on Lola’s for the next few hours. No Andre. No Adam. No problems.
Last Call
* * *
With the party settled in, I didn’t have much to do. I stood behind the bar aimlessly until Sisi rushed up the stairs, looking less than ecstatic.
“Look at this.” She held up a pair of earrings and a men’s belt.
“What is that?” I asked.
“Olivia and Bryan left this the other night.”
“Wait, what?”
“Yeah, I know,” Sisi said in disbelief. “I found out from one of the bartenders that she came back with him the night of her half-birthday. They slept together downstairs.”
This wasn’t too out of character. Over the years, after late nights of drinking, staff members and managers would sleep at Lola’s occasionally. It was easier and cheaper than taking a cab home, especially if they had to work the next morning. But Olivia didn’t work here, and neither did Bryan.
“Yeah, apparently, she locked herself out of her apartment, and she probably thought it was cool to stay here. Pretty reckless! I told her investors have been in and out while they evaluate my promotion. I could kill her!” Sisi spiraled. I understood why but didn’t have the words to respond. I just held my mouth open in shock. “She already jeopardized my job before. I won’t let it happen again.”
“Totally! I know you two have your history,” I consoled her, unable to defend Olivia. It was hard to understand why Olivia perpetuated a pattern of taking advantage of friends. “Maybe I can try to talk to her,” I offered. I wanted to do something to help the situation because Sisi and Olivia had been friends, albeit on and off, for many years.
“Good luck with that. She’ll be here within the hour, but I don’t wanna see her. Hope it’s all right I told her that you have her stuff behind the bar.”
“Does she know she can’t stay here?” I asked, hoping I wouldn’t have to tell her.
“Oh, she knows. I made it clear.”
It was surprising that a girl as beautiful and fun as Olivia could be so inconsiderate. I suppose that was one of the downsides of having access to anything—lack of boundaries.
When Olivia did arrive, the party had mostly cleared out, and I started cleaning up. She took a seat on the far-right side of the bar, away from any remaining guests.
“Hi, do you have a wristband?” I attempted a joke to cut any potential tension.
“Please, they’re lucky to have me here,” she answered. I fake laughed, the kind you regret right after because you know it sounded phony.
“Here! Si said you left this.” I handed her a bag with the earrings and belt.
“Ah, yes, I just love, love, love those earrings. Didn’t want anyone here to take them.” She sounded defensive. At the same time, the last guests ordered a round. After pouring their martinis, she looked up from her phone.
“So how mad is she, anyway?” she asked.
I was convinced Sisi had made up her mind about their friendship but didn’t want Olivia to feel bad about it. “Well, you know how Sisi can be,” I said. To no avail, it still opened up a can of worms.
“I do know! She takes everything so personally. Who cares that I slept here? It’s so not a big deal.” As typical, Olivia was reluctant to admit she’d taken advantage of a situation. I almost said something this time. Almost.
“Well, maybe you can talk with her. I’m sure you two will work it out. I know she cares about you.” I shouldn’t have led Oliva on, but I worried about hurting her feelings.
“I knew you’d see it my way.” But I didn’t see it her way. “Anyway, I could use a drink.”
“Sorry, Liv, but the party is private.” I would have suggested she go upstairs, but I knew Sisi didn’t want her at Lola’s, period.
“Oh please, no one notices me. And Bryan just told me he wants a break. I didn’t even know we were dating! Why would he need a break?” Her change of subject roped me in. I figured a glass of the white wine Sisi wanted to get rid of might be okay.
Olivia stayed and complained about Bryan. She played it like they were casual when I knew she really liked him, exemplified by her rambling about their situation. The entire time I was anxious Sisi would see us. But to my surprise, about thirty minutes later, as the party cleared out, Olivia got a text.
“Can you believe Bryan wants me to meet him for dinner?” she asked after reading the message. Her attempt to sound irked masked her authentic joy.
“It’s eleven o’clock. Who is he eating dinner with?” I asked, only to remember it was a Friday, and he wouldn’t be at the club until at least one in the morning.
“They’re grabbing a bite before Tap,” she said, referencing a popular club downtown. “Should I go?” I knew she wanted to, and I needed her out of Lola’s, so I nodded wide-eyed and vigorously.
“Okay, I’m going!” With two air kisses and a final sip of wine, she left. Shortly after, I was ready to do so as well. Downstairs, I gave Sisi my cash out. She didn’t look too pleased.
“She’s not allowed here again,” she said sternly.
“No, I know, I know, I just felt ba—” Sisi cut me off.
“It’s always a sob story with that girl. I can’t have her here anymore. It starts with her sleeping here, and who knows where it ends. She almost jeopardized my job last time, and I have too much on the line now. She’s lucky I didn’t tell the bouncer to get her out of here.” I knew she meant it.
“I get it. I’m sorry I didn’t tell her twice to leave.”
“And she’s not even our friend! When was the last time you two spent time together that wasn’t at a party or bar?” I paused, unable to recall a time. “Exactly.” Sisi proved her point.
That night, with no plans and no work the next day, I stayed a little longer at Lola’s. After Sisi calmed down, we caught up over a drink, and I told her about my dates with Adam. I had no new messages from him on my phone but took comfort in knowing a night with my best girlfriend was better than a text.
Iced
* * *
Restarting my phone. Disconnecting then reconnecting to Wi-Fi. Even sending a test text to my mom. Nothing sped up the message I desperately wanted to receive. I told myself it was important I hear from Andre or Milo on the venue, or Sisi with my work schedule, or heck, I would have even loved a message from Olivia about her night with Bryan. But within, I knew I really only wanted one from Adam.
I hadn’t heard from him since I left his apartment last Thursday, and I began to spiral. What did I say on our last date? Was my double bun hairstyle a dealbreaker? Did a wild pack of dogs maul him?
Not wanting to be paralyzed by his silence anymore, I did exactly what I shouldn’t. I swiped on my dating app to find a date over the weekend, knowing all too well another person wouldn’t help. And I was right—the date was awful.
When I got home and googled all the ways to deal with someone ghosting you, like how to redirect your attention or soothe yourself mentally, none of it worked. Negative thoughts permeated my brain like a tattoo.
In an effort to further distract myself, I used extra tip money to visit the new Met exhibit, get a facial, and indulge in a swanky brunch—but none of that worked either. With each passing hour, my spiraling worsened.
By Monday, the silence was deafening. I walked into LaToulle thinking how precarious our emotions are—a few weekends ago, I was radiating. Today, I questioned my worth. I donned a long black sweater and leggings, minimal jewelry, and a sour face to reflect my mood.
“Kay! How was your weekend? Any luck with my venue list?” Natasha asked when I sat down, more animated than I’d seen her before. And definitely too enthusiastic for my mood.
“Thanks again, but I have a lead. If I need anything, I’ll let you know.” This was a lie. I would not be asking her for help.
“Okay, well, Samantha is calling a meeting for the client team this morning, and she’ll want an update.” I wasn’t sure if she was attempting to intimidate or help me. Knowing her, I assumed the former.
“Thanks for the heads up.” I remained calm externally but had a gut-sinking feeling internally. Without official confirmation from Milo, I’d have to confess to my team that I didn’t have the venue locked in.
Then I realized Andre had been quiet since I arrived, which wasn’t like him. Great, like I need another reason to want to curl up in bed today.
“You’re not mad at me, are you?” I asked him.
“Oh gosh, Kay. Get over yourself. I have more important things to think about,” he responded, which almost certainly confirmed he was mad at me.
“If you’re so busy, maybe I can help by making you tea?” I asked in an effort to console our situation. Andre looked at me with a curious frown, which I assumed meant he’d take my offer. A few moments later, hot tea in my hand, I saw my colleagues heading to the boardroom, including two assistant vice presidents, three client leads, and Natasha.
I dropped off Andre’s tea and hurried to the boardroom. When the meeting started, and I still hadn’t heard from Milo, I assured myself everything would be okay. Right, I’ll just be honest.
A few minutes in and my phone buzzed.
Unknown number: Kay, how are you?
I didn’t recognize the number but saw whomever it was still typing.
Unknown number: It’s Milo from Lola’s. I got the okay from Hugo’s.
“Yes!” I said under my breath, but apparently loud enough for others to hear me.
“Do you have something to share?” Samantha asked as if my voiceover was the biggest inconvenience of her day. “Actually, yes, please do share. What’s up with the anniversary event? Natasha mentioned she’s been helping you out with a venue.” What? Why would she say something to Samantha?
“Um, no. Well, yes.” I was ill prepared for her question.
“Well, which is it?” Samantha asked. Her directness made me nervous, but I rallied whatever dignity I had and pushed back.
“There’s an international assembly in the city that week, so it’s been difficult finding a place, but I have it covered now.”
“Covered how, Kay?” Samantha asked with skepticism. I peeked at Natasha, whose evident glance and slight smirk suggested she reveled in this.
“Well, um, there’s a new restaurant opening in NoHo, and, um, we’ve been approved to host the event there. The space, well, I think, the space looks similar to the one I showed during the pitch.” Okay, not the most confident, but a start.
“Is this a space from Natasha’s list?” Samantha asked.
“No, it’s through a friend.”
“So you haven’t seen it yet?” Samantha pressed.
“Not yet, but I can ask for a walk-through this week if you want!”
“Not what I want. It’s what we need. Get that on the books tomorrow. We need to get moving.”
Phew. Her reaction was not as bad as I anticipated. I shouldn’t have such high anxiety because Samantha generally liked me, but the pressure of a looming promotion got to me in situations like this. I had an overpowering need to prove myself.
“Natasha, I want you on the event too,” Samantha followed up. What? Why? “Help Kay with the food, waitstaff, and signage. You know, all the logistics. Kay, I want you to continue focusing on the branding and creatives. Let’s make this event unforgettable!”
Natasha and I nodded. I couldn’t believe Samantha had asked Natasha to help me, but there was no time to sulk. I continued with my update that I made good progress on the invitations, communication materials, and event decorates, which impressed Samantha. Yet my mind couldn’t release the self-doubt I harbored from not having a venue in advance. If I had, I bet Natasha wouldn’t have been tapped to help me.
After work, I headed to Lola’s for my Monday bar and manager shift. I stepped over the raised floor that divided the office from the lounge. Inside, Sisi was more anxious than usual when I asked about my schedule.
“It’s not ready yet! Sorry, I’m just wrapping up a few things. I hired a new bartender, and she’s training tonight. Trying to see when I can get her in,” she said, shuffling through alphabetized boxes of paperwork. On her desk sat a slick, silver laptop and rhinestone stationary. I remember when I worked here years ago, the office was chaotic and dirty. Now, Sisi’s personal touch provided a more inviting and chic space.
“So, are you still seeing that Adam guy?” she asked, taking a break from her search.
“Your guess is as good as mine. Haven’t heard from him since our last date on Thursday. Who knows. He’s just, um… It’s just… Whatever, it’s complicated.” I didn’t buy my own justification, and Sisi wasn’t convinced either.
“He’s not complicated. He’s a player,” she said assuredly. Almost too assuredly. “Okay, look, I wouldn’t get too involved because you’re looking for a relationship, and I don’t think he’s anything more than a fuck boy.” I raised an eyebrow, unsure where her word dump was coming from. “Uh, okay. Adam was here yesterday to pick up his check, and he was with another girl,” she confessed.
“What?” My stomach sank for the second time today.
“I know. They were holding hands, and, uh… He’s awful.” She looked up to the ceiling as she recalled his visit. “He even had the audacity to get dinner with her at the bar! I mean, the dude knows you and I are friends.”
I went blank. Adam didn’t owe me anything. We weren’t together, but that didn’t prevent me from feeling let down.
“I hate to tell you this, but better you know sooner than later. He’s not a keeper.” I didn’t have the heart to say anything more because her words hit me like a ton of bricks, like it always does when you learn the person you’re interested in is not nearly as interested in you. “I’m sorry, girl.”
“Ah, what are you gonna do?” I replied, replaying my initial hesitation to go out with him in the first place. “I just should’ve known.” I paused, thinking about our dynamic more. “I mean, we always meet on his schedule, where he wants, and only sleep at his place. The convenience I provided is so obvious. Why would I even let myself think it’d be something more?”
“Because he takes you all over town! And the sex is great. You can’t forget that, Kay! We’ve all been here. Just don’t let him get the best of you. He shouldn’t live rent free in your head, girl. You gotta kick him out!” Sisi’s support made me giggle.
“Ugh, you’re right. Why is dating the worst?”
“Tell me about it. I went on a date yesterday, and he told me he only dates girls from ivy league schools.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe that? I’m surprised he didn’t run away when I told him I didn’t go to high school.”
“Wait, but you went to high school,” I said, confused.
“Of course I did! Oh my god, I was joking with him! But he didn’t find it very funny. I mean, come on—who doesn’t find me funny?”
“Seriously, screw him!”
“Already did!” Sisi admitted, and we both laughed. Her lightheartedness always struck at the right time.
Smoky
* * *
A crowd slammed Lola’s. I worked my butt off, and luckily it reflected in my tips. Undeniably salty about the Adam news, I grasped onto anything positive, like my ability to service a packed bar adequately and quickly. But as I made rounds and rounds of drinks, I kept thinking about my last morning with him.
Laying on his smooth gray sheets, I watched Adam sleep before I got up, my urge to kiss him rescinded by my fear he wouldn’t reciprocate. In an attempt not to wake him, I slinked out of bed to start what had become my “sleeping at Adam’s” routine. With no clothes, toiletries, or personal items at his apartment, I succumbed to using his men’s body wash in the shower and a splash of water to cleanse my face.
