Page 6 of When the Walls Come Down
“I’m serious. Get out of the house. Go to a bar. Meet a guy. Make a few bad decisions. You’re twenty-four and you have a full weekend to waste before you start your big, grown-up, I-am-woman-hear-me-roar job. Go be a chick following her dream for a little while.” She paused. “Just use a condom so the dream doesn’t follow you back into reality, okay?”
The Hell no, being half naked at a bar, prowling for a guy is not my scene was locked and loaded on the tip of my tongue.
It died there too.
My sister’s voice got soft. “I know you’re doing this for Mom, Mags. Trying to live a life she never got. I promise you, in our own ways, Heath, Jenna, Laurie, and I are all doing that too. But you’re the only one of us left who can do the young-and-carefree thing. She never got that, either, ya know?”
I flinched, screwing my eyes shut. Her obvious emotional manipulation aside, she wasn’t wrong. My mom had been pregnant with Jenna on her twenty-first birthday. As far as I knew, the woman had never walked into a bar unless it was to pick up a basket of wings for my dad on Super Bowl Sunday.
I scrubbed my eyes with my thumb and forefinger before opening them. A part of me regretted answering her call. The other part of me…well, she was bored out of her mind and hadn’t been laid in over two years. And if I could change the status of even one of those things in the name of living life to the fullest, a trip to a bar wasn’t the worst idea in the history of decision making.
After draining my cup of wine—if you could call it that—then immediately regretting that life choice, I stood up and walked into my apartment. “I’m wearing a maxi-dress,” I announced. “If I do this, I’m going to be comfortable and hopefully not get propositioned to give a five-dollar blow job on the way to the bar.”
“Yesssss,” Melanie hissed. “One with cleavage, then. Tasteful, but something that still separates you from the prudes. Perhaps something that says, I have a dazzling personality, but I also have two dazzling breasts. Would you like to see them?”
I barked a laugh. “Right, okay. Dazzling boobs. Got it.”
In my otherwise empty bedroom, my suitcase sat in the corner, cracked open with clothes strewn about as if it had suddenly exploded. I’d sent the majority of my stuff with the movers, but I hadn’t been completely naïve when I’d packed my travel bag. I’d had enough delusions of grandeur to pack a few nice outfits so that when I’d stumble upon my two new best friends five minutes after I’d arrived in California, we could go out for drinks and live it up in the big city.
Clearly, that had not happened, but it did mean I had a small wardrobe that consisted of more than just sweatpants.
As much as I wasn’t thrilled about going out, that call from Melanie was exactly what I’d needed to get my head straight. I missed my family, but if I wanted a life with no regrets, living seemed like it was something of a prerequisite.
Drawing in a deep breath, I smiled to myself. “I have to go get in the shower. Please don’t ever call me again.”
Melanie laughed. “Have fun, Maggie. Be responsible next week. Go get arrested tonight.”
My smile grew exponentially. “Don’t put your phone on silent. I might need bail money.”
“Psh, I’m not bailing you out. Call Heath.” With that, my batshit-crazy sister, who I loved and also occasionally hated, hung up.
Or maybe I was the crazy one, because three hours later, I’d showered, straightened my blond curls, and spent forever on a smoky eye that made my baby blues look like they were glowing. I was ready to venture out of my apartment in search of a much-needed vodka cranberry.Blake brought my plate out herself. It was odd for her to be working a dinner shift, but like any business owner would tell you: Sometimes you have to do what you have to do.
Two Ships was busy, but not too busy that my sister the chef didn’t have time to bring a BLT out for herself and take a seat beside me at the bar. At least, tonight, I’d have dinner company.
“So, Casey talked to you today?”
Here we go.
Apart, the two were handfuls, but when they worked together, they were a whole fucking army.
“Yeah, I’m basically shit-canned as soon as my replacement is ready. I was told about a month. If they even work out.” Just to be an ass, I flagged down Chris behind the bar. “Can I get some A1 or steak sauce?” I put my hand up to block what I was saying but intentionally spoke loud enough for her to hear me add, “Meat’s a little dry.”
