Page 70 of Tap Left
She isn’t persuaded by my falsely upbeat attitude. Mellie would rather talk about feelings and establish boundaries. But right now, I need to not care about any of those things. Right now, I need to be a little bit reckless.
I pick outYou Oughta Knowby Alanis Morissette, and when it’s our turn, Mellie gets up on stage and sings with me. She plays along for now, but it’s only a matter of time before she pulls the plug on these shenanigans. That time comes when I sidle up to the bar and try to order a few more shots.
“Lola.” She drags me away by the arm and stares at me, waiting for an explanation.
I’m drunk, and the room is already spinning, and it’s not a good combination in the best of circumstances but factoring in my already raw emotions, it’s a recipe for disaster.
“I’m not a toddler,” I tell her.
“Really?” She crosses her arms and laughs. “Because right now you’re acting like one.”
“Or maybe you’re just acting like my mother. Sorry, I don’t recall asking her to come out with me tonight.”
Mellie’s feelings are hurt, but I’m a wrecking ball right now.
“You always do this,” I say. “What do you want from me? Do you need me to say it? Will it make you feel better if I say that you told me so? I shouldn’t have messed around with Daire because I got hurt again. There, happy?”
“That isn’t what I want at all,” she answers. “But to be honest, Lola, I’m tired of this same old song and dance. You want to ruin your life, that’s fine. But don’t expect me or anyone else to feel sorry for you when you’ve done this to yourself.”
Now we’ve both said things that are hurtful. Mellie is my best friend, and she’s been with me through everything, but she isn’t lying. She really is sick of it. And I don’t know why I called her because it was the dumbest thing I could have done. It’s only compounded my problems and kindled my irritation.
My life was supposed to be getting better, and because of Daire, everything is falling apart. I tell Mellie she should go home, and she doesn’t argue. She doesn’t hug me goodbye, and she doesn’t say she’ll call me tomorrow.
In the bathroom, I attempt to collect my thoughts, but even that turns out to be a disastrous decision. All I can think about is the way Daire fucked me over the toilet. He fucked me and left me dirty and used.
I scowl at my reflection in the mirror and wonder what the hell is wrong with me. Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why do I always pick men who are unattainable?
When I get into an Uber five minutes later, I have a plan to fix everything.
Daire doesn’t get to have the last word. He doesn’t get to have the final fuck. And by the time I’m through with him tonight, he’ll be the one wishing he’d never met me.
28
Daire
The phone buzzesfrom my desk, startling me awake. My monthly reports are still scattered in front of me, and it appears I’ve been using them as a pillow. I rub my bleary eyes and glance at the number on the screen. It’s building security, and it’s late.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Mr. Daire, I’m sorry to bother you, but there’s a young woman down here insisting she sees you right away.”
“Who is it?”
“She says her name is Lola Bell.”
I hesitate with my finger over the end button. Lola shouldn’t be here this late. She shouldn’t be here at all, considering how she left things before. Whatever Jimmy or Grazi or anyone else might say, I’m still a man, and I’m entitled to my pride. I’m frustrated and short on sleep, and all I really want to do is send her away. But in the end, I want to know why she’s here.
At least I think I do.
Until she walks through my door three minutes later with a bottle of whiskey in her hand. Drunk Lola is a whole different ballgame, and now I’m curious where she’s been and with whom. I’m tempted to ask, but I’m more inclined to send her home in a cab.
She shouldn’t be here like this. She wants me sober, and yet she comes here daring to provoke the proverbial beast. “What are you doing, LB?”
She wiggles the bottle in my direction with a coquettish smile. “Care for a nip?”
“I have work that needs to be done,” I reprove. “So, if that’s all you came here for, then you should go.”
She pouts in the fake way that girls sometimes do, but it’s the first time I’ve witnessed Lola pull that bullshit. She should know it doesn’t work on me. The next tool in her arsenal is a tried and true method. She kicks off her heels and slides up her skirt.
