some of my black mood lifting somewhat as I slightly raise my glass to him and smile. Things might be falling down around my ears right now, but that doesn’t mean that I should forget the fact that there’s a lot of good out there, too.
“Thanks,” I say.
He leaves me alone after that. I sip at the remainder of my first drink, suddenly conscious of the fact that I haven’t eaten anything since lunch. As a result, it won’t take much to get me hammered.
I’m just deciding that maybe things aren’t as bad as they seem when, from further up the bar, I hear a dreadfully familiar voice. My head swivels around, eyes narrowing in on the last person I want to see.
“Scotch, please,” Jason says with a note of tiredness in his voice, rubbing a hand down his face.
Seriously, what are the chances that Jason and I would end up at the same damn bar? He doesn’t appear to have noticed me and it looks like he, just like me, is here by himself. I hunch my shoulders slightly, not wanting him to turn and see me, but he leans on the bar, staring absently down at the wood grain.
This isn’t a pretense, I slowly realize. Jason doesn’t even realize that I’m watching him right now. His mind is completely somewhere else, and I can’t help but wonder what has him so distracted.
Yet I think I might have an idea. I imagine being told that I’m suddenly in charge of a multinational company worth billions of dollars, and it makes me feel a little dizzy. I suppose I can understand why he’s tired and drawn, now, even with the help I’ve been giving him.
That doesn’t mean I want to run into him, though. I’m relieved when he takes his drink and heads over to a darkened table corner, yawning as he goes, never noticing me. It’s probably best for the two of us to stay away from each other right now.
Unfortunately, another four drinks later, that idea goes flying right out the window.
For some reason, I’ve been unable to tear my eyes away from Jason all night, and it becomes worse the more I drink. Of course, I won’t deny that he’s good looking; his devastating attractiveness was the very first thing I noticed about him when we met. As he’s gotten older, he’s simply gotten more handsome.
But I’m not observing him for that reason. I’m watching him with suspicion, waiting to see what move he makes. I can barely believe that he is sitting in a bar alone, sipping scotch and looking at his phone. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.
He’s on his fourth glass, relaxing with each drink, when I finally feel enough is enough. It isn’t fair that I came here to escape him, and now all I can do is think of him. He’s in my direct line of sight (I ignore the fact that I’ve swiveled around in my seat to watch him outright), so I can’t just forget about him, his company, and his stupid, fucking job when he’s right there.
I swing my legs off the stool and land on the ground. My head feels a little clouded, but the indignation I’m feeling is clearer than day. I don’t want Jason here. He needs to leave so that I can have the peaceful time I came here for.
Yes, I’m sure if I say that to him, he’ll be reasonable enough to listen.
I drop down heavily into the seat before him at the table, making him stare and look up, blinking owlishly. I can’t help but watch the way his long lashes brush his cheeks. He suddenly looks young and vulnerable as his mind appears to scramble to catch up to what’s happening.
“Opal?” he finally asks, frowning. “What are you doing here?”
“Relaxing,” I say pointedly, but comprehension does not cross his face. “I’m relaxing here, and you’ve come and ruined it, you bastard.”
In a distant part of my mind, I know I’m flirting with disaster here. Jason is still my boss. He can quite easily fire me for talking to him like that. I doubt these insults were what he meant when he said he hired me because I’m not afraid of speaking my mind to him.
But it appears Jason has had a bit to drink, too. His face is as flushed as mine feels, and he gapes at me for long seconds before snapping his mouth closed and scowling heavily.
“It seems that you’re