“Some of us still have a filter at work, you know,” Jo replied and went back to her sandwich.
“You’re the worst. We’re going out tonight so you can tell me everything.” Before Jo could respond, Vanessa added, “Or we can talk about it now in terrible euphemisms. Did the train enter the tunnel?”
Jo coughed and tried not to choke on bread and mayo.
“Did the early bird get the worm? Was the banana—”
“Stop, stop, oh my God!” Jo laughed. “Fine, we’ll go out tonight.”
Vanessa cackled in triumph.
After work, she took Jo to a cocktail lounge called The Gandy Dancer, which she claimed was “the only upscale establishment in Ashville.” She explained that the name came from an old slang term for a railroad worker, which fit with the exterior aesthetic. The lounge was on the main street that ran through the middle of Ashville, where all the buildings were from the late nineteenth century. They were generally well-maintained, but they had a distinctly old-timey charm.
The interior, however, was another story. Dark walls, dim lighting, and low suede couches made Jo feel like she’d stepped inside a modern speakeasy. Back in Orange County, this kind of place would have been noisy and crowded, even on a weeknight, but here it was almost a respite.
Over craft cocktails, fancy sliders, and truffle fries, Jo told Vanessa about Felix. Once she got going, safe from the ears of eavesdropping co-workers, it was surprisingly easy to gush about him. It was nice—being fully honest about her boyfriend, not having to make excuses for his behavior, not having to leave things out for fear of someone giving her an odd look. Though she left out the specifics of the nights she and Felix had spent together, she told Vanessa just about everything else, including that his grandpa lived at White Hills. She didn’t even have to ask for discretion; Vanessa promised it immediately.
When she was done, Jo ordered them another round of drinks. Then, it was Vanessa’s turn to lament her own dating woes, which managed to upset her enough that Jo let Vanessa talk her into doing a shot of tequila together.
After that, the conversation somehow shifted to black-and-white sci-fi B movies they both loved, which lead to nerdy TV shows and then to Jo telling Vanessa that she absolutely had to watch Xena: Warrior Princess. Vanessa was just as adamant that Jo needed to watch something called Mystery Science Theater 3000.
By the time they were on their third (or maybe fourth? did the shots count?) round, splitting a peach crumble, and playing Fuck Marry Kill with Star Wars characters, Jo was having the time of her life. The work-friends wall between them had crumbled to dust, and she only wished they had done this sooner. Even if the woman did think it was acceptable to fuck Greedo, marry Yoda, and kill Chewbacca. Who the hell killed Chewbacca?
Jo didn’t check her phone until they were getting the bill, and she realized she had no idea what time it was. Her stomach dropped when she lit up the screen. She had a missed call and a text from Felix, both from almost two hours ago.
Felix
Do you want to come over tonight? I miss you, cariño.
Jo dropped her credit card on the table, grabbed her purse, and excused herself. She made her way outside. Definitely not stumbling. Tipsier than she expected, but not stumbling. Heart pounding, she fumbled with her phone until she managed to call Felix.
He answered on the first ring. “Hey, J—”
“I’m sorry! Vanessa and I went out for drinks, and I guess I never took my phone off silent after work, so I just saw your message. I’m sorry. I promise I wasn’t ignoring you. Should I come over now?”
“Cariño, hey, it’s okay,” he said soothingly. “I’m not upset.”
“Are you sure? I’m so sorry.”
“Of-of course I’m sure.” He sounded confused, but sincere. “Why would I be upset? I figured you were busy or working late.”
Jo pressed her palm to her sternum, breathing deeply and blinking fast to keep from crying. He’s not upset, she reassured herself, over and over. He’s not upset.
“Jo?” Felix said when she didn’t respond. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she croaked.
“You don’t sound okay. Do you need me to come get you?”
“I don’t know?” Jo was drunk. That was pretty goddamn obvious now. Her vision was swimming, and in the quiet street she could hear how slurred her words were. Plus, she still really, really felt like crying—always a sure sign she’d had too much.
Vanessa was younger. She could probably hold her liquor better. She might be okay to drive. She could take them back to White Hills, where Jo’s car was parked. Jo would just have to work really hard to sober up before they got there.
The front door slammed open. “Where’d you go, California?” Vanessa yelled, clutching Jo’s credit card in an unsteady hand. She gasped and pointed at the phone. “Is that your boyfriend? Hiiiii, Jo’s boyfriend!”
Felix’s voice reached Jo through a cloud of tequila and shame. “Where are you?”
“The Gandy Dancer.”
“Don’t get in a car. Either of you. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
The phone blooped. He’d hung up.
“He’s going to pick us up,” Jo said. She took her card from Vanessa and stuck it in her bra.
And then she burst into tears.
Felix pulled up in front of The Gandy Dancer, relieved to find Jo and a blonde woman, both of them in scrubs, sitting on the curb. Thank God they hadn’t tried to drive themselves anywhere. The blonde waved wildly at him with both arms. Jo’s face was in her hands, her elbows on her knees. As he hopped out of the car, she looked up miserably and started to cry. He resisted the urge to sweep her into his arms and kiss away all of her tears. He would do that as soon as possible, but Jo wasn’t the only person who needed a little help tonight.
“Vanessa?” he asked the blonde.
“That’s me.” She scanned him up and down, her entire head bobbing. “God damn, you’re a tall drink of water.”
He chuckled. “Thank you. I’m Felix. May I give you a ride home?”
“Hell yeah.”
