Cole(9)

Sia slid into our booth. “We’re going to drink. Just warning you now.”

The hostess waited, holding my menu as I slid in across from Sia. Then she placed the menu in front of me and asked, “Would you like to order a beverage right away?”

“Hell, yes, she will.” Sia moaned, opening up the drink menu. “A glass of chardonnay for me, and a water too. Addison, please order some alcohol with me. I don’t want to be the only one boozing it up, and we deserve it after today.” She gave me the drink menu and turned to the hostess. “She just moved in down the street. I’m thinking we’ll need to buy a bottle to take home, too.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

By the time I’d picked my glass of Merlot, Sia was fast friends with the hostess, and two bottles were coming with us, on the house.

I waited till she left and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take that long to order.”

Sia shrugged. “She’s a model. I’ve seen her at the Gala for a few events. Trust me.” She leaned forward and dropped her voice. “The free wine is because of the connections I can give her, not how long it took you to order.”

“You’re a fast worker.”

“No, no.” Propping her elbow on the table, an action Sia would normally frown upon, she twirled her wrist in the air and pointed at the hostess returning from the bar. “She’s the fast worker. She recognized me, too. That’s how this world works. Connections. Networking. Get to know people, and they might do you a favor later on. This is her favor to me, and she’s smart, because if a photographer or painter needs a model, I’ll have her in mind. Everything that goes around, comes around.”

When the hostess came back over with a server right behind her, I sat back and watched my friend work. Sia was sparkling, sophisticated, and mesmerizing. The hostess didn’t blink an eye as she charmed Sia right back. By the time the two bottles had been set up on the table, chilling in ice buckets, and our glasses set before us, the ladies had exchanged cards. As the hostess and server left, Sia sat back and sipped her chardonnay.

She wiggled her eyebrows at me. “We should come here more often. Forget noon lunch. Late-night dinner is the way to go.”

I shook my head. “You amaze me, and you always exhaust me. I couldn’t do that, flip it on like you just did.”

“You get used to it. It makes life fun and interesting.” She set her glass down, resting her fingers on the base. She toyed with it, biting down on her lip before asking, “I know my job isn’t your style, but what are you going to do now?”

I sat back and tensed.

“You moved to Chicago because of his job, and I know you had a column in an online magazine, but what now? You haven’t written anything for a while.”

I hadn’t realized she was checking.

“I subscribed to your column. I haven’t gotten any alerts.” She leaned forward. “I’m not trying to be a pushy best friend, but I am trying to be encouraging at the pace you need. I feel like you need it now. Moving out was a good thing. Writing is a good thing, too. Are you going to start doing that again?”

Was I going to start writing? Even just thinking about it, some of the heaviness returned to my chest. I shook my head, letting out a breath of air. I read, and I went on walks, and I watched movies. I did anything to clear my mind, and that meant no writing. “I don’t know. Maybe. One thing at a time right now. Moving is a big deal. I already feel like I’ve betrayed Liam once.”

“Oh.” She straightened back in her seat. “I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t think of it from your perspective. I know moving is a big deal. And you don’t have to write. I mean, you’re set with money, so that’s good. You don’t have to worry. But I think it’ll help you, even if you just do it for yourself. You’re right. One thing at a time.” She paused and then looked deeply into my eyes. “For what it’s worth, Liam was a really great guy. He loved you more than anything. I know he’d be proud that you’re moving forward.”

My throat closed up. I could feel the tears coming, so I looked down. I didn’t want to cry, not again. Reaching for my wine, I murmured, hoarsely, “Thank you.” The mere mention of him, the thought that I might be betraying him—my insides burned. The hole that had been in my chest since Liam died opened wide again. I groaned and took a few sips of my wine more quickly than normal. Fuck it. I threw the whole glass back, and when I set it down, Sia had a stupid grin on her face.

She beamed at me. “There she is. I love this Addison. Let’s get drunk tonight!”