Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 57082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 285(@200wpm)___ 228(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“You got burned once,” she continued. “It happens to the best of us. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t go back to the kitchen.”
“Baking reference.” I beamed. “Nice one.”
“You got a bad apple,” she said. “That doesn’t mean you should throw out the apple tart recipe.”
I frowned and furrowed my brow.
Holly put her hands out, palms up. “I’m trying.”
We finished dinner, left the restaurant and headed to a nearby bar for a quick drink before the walk home. While we were standing at the bar, trying to get the bartender’s attention, two guys came up to us.
“Good evening, ladies.”
They were both handsome, though maybe a bit too old for my taste.
“Is it a good evening, though?” said Holly.
One of the guys, tall with dark eyes and dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, leaned against the bar and said to Holly, “It could be, with the right company.” He raised a hand toward the bartender and the bartender came over to him quickly.
The guy turned to us. “What are you having?”
“Cosmo,” said Holly.
“Make that two,” I said then I glanced at Holly and shot her a look of ‘what are you doing?’.
She returned my look with one of her ‘don’t worry; I got this’ looks.
“Two cosmos,” said the guy to the bartender, “and two apple martinis.”
Holly and I chuckled.
“Something funny about apple martinis?” said the other guy.
“No,” I said. “It’s just that we were talking about apples a little while ago.”
The guy who’d ordered the drinks said, “In a good way?”
I shook my head. “No, not in a good way. Not at all in a good way.”
He frowned.
We drank our drinks. I tried to be civil, in case Holly was interested in one of them. But it was difficult. The guys wouldn’t stop talking about themselves. One told us repeatedly about the sports car he’d just bought, and the other guy talked about the firm he worked at and how prestigious it was.
I was trying to think of a way to politely get away from them when Holly finished the last of her drink, set it on the bar and slapped one of the guys on the arm. “Congratulations on the car, thanks for the drinks, now if you’ll excuse us.” She took me by the hand and started off.
“Hey, wait,” said one of the guys. “Where are you going?”
“To the other end of the bar,” said Holly.
They didn’t follow us, not after the dry and direct way Holly shot them down.
At the other end of the bar, we had similar luck—or lack thereof—trying to get the bartender’s attention. A guy in a suit, collar unbuttoned, with a golden medallion hanging from his neck, approached Holly. “What are you having?”
“We’re trying to order cosmos,” she said, “but the bartender’s ignoring us.”
The guy raised a hand and the bartender came right over.
“Two cosmos,” he said, “and a whiskey sour.”
“But we’re paying separately,” Holly said to the bartender.
He ignored her.
“Holly, remind me never to recommend this bar again.”
She shrugged. “It could be worse. We could have to pay for our drinks.”
We had a good buzz going for our walk home. And despite it being early October, it wasn’t too cold outside—or maybe it was, but the alcohol was doing a good job keeping us warm.
“How drunk would I have to be to go home with one of those guys?” asked Holly.
“Hopefully, you’ll never find out.”
She locked her arm in mine. “Thanks for dinner, Gwen.”
“Thank you,” I said.
We walked arm in arm—admittedly not in the straightest of lines—for a few blocks.
Out of the blue, Holly said, “How did a catch like you end up with such a sleaze like Michael?”
“Well, he wasn’t always such a sleaze.”
“No? Do you think he turned into a sleaze or he was always a sleaze but managed to hide it from you.”
“I guess you’re right. He was always a sleaze but he managed to hide it from me.”
“Men!” she said angrily.
I thought of the men I was currently seeing—though not often enough. I couldn’t help comparing them to Michael, and I couldn’t help finding similarities—at least similarities to how Michael was in the beginning. “There’s definitely nothing sleazing about the men I’m seeing now.”
“Is that a question?” asked Holly.
She was right. I hadn’t said that with any conviction. “I mean, how would I know? I didn’t see the sleaze in Michael. Maybe the Marines are hiding their sleaze from me, too. Maybe I’m just bad at seeing the sleaze.”
“How long did it take you to spot the sleaze in ponytail guy tonight?” she asked.
“Well, that was easy,” I said. “He had a ponytail, for starters.”
“Plus, I think that place was literally called Sleaze Bar.”
“Yeah, not a true test of my sleaze-detecting abilities.”
“So how long did it take for you to spot the sleaze in Michael?”
I thought about it. Had I always suspected? Was I just lying to myself because the sex was so good?