Mr. CEO(11)

I nod and say a silent prayer of thanks as the bartender comes over and interrupts us. I order a long island iced tea in place of that Bloody Mary so I can get trashed. I’m not messing around tonight. At this point I need something strong.

Eva joins in with the other girls who are gossiping about someone who works for another company now. Someone I don’t know.

I nurse my drink and try to keep up and chime in, but I have no clue who and what they’re talking about. After a few minutes, their conversation seems to turn to white noise and I find myself staring into my drink, moving the ice around with the straw and wondering why I’m in such a horrible fucking mood.

Hannah and Cary Ann get up, causing me to snap out of it, and announce they’re going to go dance their tits off. I have to cover my mouth as the guy at the end of the bar looks over at the two of them with a raised brow.

My smile instantly falls as Eva grabs me by the hand and pulls me off my barstool. I resist a little and say, “Seriously, no one wants to see me dance.” I haven’t had nearly enough alcohol to embarrass myself that much.

“Come on!” She tugs a little harder and I actually have to take a step forward to keep my balance.

“I really don’t want to.” I shake my head and hold my breath. I know I’m being a downer, but this isn’t my thing. At all.

Luckily for me, her phone rings. She instantly drops my hand to take out her phone and begins typing like a mad woman again. I use the moment to plant my ass on the barstool and take out my own cell phone. As if it would possibly have a message waiting for me.

She’s texting Kevin again. I really don’t see a point in being here. Hannah and Cary Ann are over on the dance floor having the time of their lives, while I’m standing by watching Eva text her boyfriend.

It goes without saying--this night totally blows.

Screw this. I pull my cell out of my clutch and click over to the messages screen. I quickly locate Ian’s name.

Your shit better be gone by the time I’m back.

There it is. The same text I sent several days ago. My stomach twists into an angry knot. The message is marked as read, but Ian hasn’t even bothered to reply.

No sorry. No begging for me to take him back.

He simply doesn’t care.

He’s probably shacked up with her right now, fucking her brains out, I tell myself. In my bed.

The thought enrages me and before I know it, my fingers are flying across the screen of my cell.

You’re a real piece of fucking work, you know that?

I hit send before I can stop myself. Shit. I shouldn’t have done that. I close my eyes, feeling pissed off at myself and at how poorly I’m handling all this shit.

I stuff my phone back in my clutch and turn to Eva. “Hey, I think I’m gonna go,” I tell her over the bass of the music.

Eva looks up from her phone and sees the expression of misery on my face. She taps out something quickly and then puts her phone away. “I’ll go with you,” she offers. I can tell that she’s worried about me now, but I don’t want her to be.

“Are you sure?” I ask. “You don’t have to. We just got here and it looks like Hannah and Cary Ann are having the time of their lives.” I gesture toward the other end of the bar where our two coworkers are entertaining a group of young guys. One guy has his face almost resting on Hannah’s chest, practically motorboating her tits.

Eva waves away my worry. “Nonsense. I can tell you’re not in the mood to be here. Besides, Kevin won’t quit texting me. I should go somewhere a little less busy so I can talk to him.”

I start to refuse, but then I think better of it. I can tell Eva doesn’t want to be here any more than I do. “Okay,” I agree. “Thanks.”

We go outside, where it’s still bustling with tourists, and flag down a cab. Within minutes we’re making our way back down the strip to our hotel. At the first stoplight, Eva breaks the silence and asks, “So how do you like it here? And the girls? I know they can be a little crazy, but I think you really fit in well.”

“I like them, they seem pretty cool.”

Eva looks at me closely, her big eyes concerned. “You’re still not bothered by the cheating joke, are you?”

“No. It’s cool.” Yes I am. But my anger isn’t for them.

Eva looks unconvinced. “You sure?”

“You know what I don’t understand?” I’m forced to say.

“What?” she asks.

“How Ian couldn’t even be bothered enough to tell me sorry for what he did.”

“The guy’s a scumbag. What would you expect from someone who was having an affair with your friend?” She snorts. “If you can even call her that. I sure as hell wouldn’t. A friend wouldn’t have slept with my boyfriend the first chance she got.”