SAKE, PLZ BOMB ME
We meet for pre-dinner cocktails in The Palm Court. I'm wearing the black button-down that Cece picked out for me. It perfectly complements her dress.
I join the guys at the bar, where Travis is being a typical norm core dad and showing off pics of Isla. Nate and Alex are asking Josh about his job. I only catch tidbits, but it sounds like something corporate. Finance or law or something maybe.
"Hey Brooks," Brody says when I walk up.
"Hey," I say, standing beside Josh.
"Josh here was just telling us about a merger at work," Nate says. "Acquisition or something."
"He's super adult," Alex adds.
"Way more than us," Nate jokes.
"Brooks runs a successful athleisure company. Seems pretty adult," Josh says.
"Fair," Nate shrugs.
"Not too adult. It's not really a full-time job, though," I admit. "Miles does most of the work."
"Gotta leave time for all the premieres and parties," Alex says.
"Funny." I roll my eyes.
"Yo, you should see the store in LA. It's nuts! Hit it up if you ever go to Cali." Nate says, elbowing Josh.
"For sure." Josh says.
I glance at him, thinking there's no shot in hell he and Emmy would ever frequent LA, let alone visit Edge's flagship store.
As I see Emmy and Cece in my peripherals, I second guess myself. Nah. They may be coordinal enough for Lauren, but no way they'll end up real friends.
"—Yea, we sailed last month. Shocked Emmy had never been on a sail before."
I rejoin mid conversation. Josh is regaling some story about their MDW adventure.
"Used to sail competitively. Whole family did." Josh nods.
I smile and pretend to sound interested like everyone else, but in truth I've never heard a more pretentious thing said in my life. WTF sails competitively?
...
We left The Palm Court and went a few blocks down the street to some swanky Asian bistro that Angela, Lauren's sister, found on some NYC Eats list. It's really more of a clublike atmosphere.
All 14 of us are squeezed at a large table behind the koi pond teeming with lily pads. The lights are so dim in here I can barely see peoples' faces. My other senses are super charged. I can practically smell Cece across the table from me.
I'm wedged between Brody and Travis, glad to be on the opposite side of the table as Josh. Glad for the sake bombs on the table right now.
I keep replaying my run in at the front desk with Emmy earlier. I didn't expect us to be so fine.
Don't get me wrong, I'm happy that there's no drama. Happy I have Cece here and everyone seems to be getting along. Trix and Cece are deep in conversation right now. If Trix like someone, that's always a good sign.
I just feel like, as I look down across the table at Emmy, I can't shake something.
It all seems too... easy.
And for the first time since maybe the third grade, I feel like an outsider trying to blend in with my friends. No one is talking to me, even looking at me. Everyone is engrossed with Emmy and Josh and of course, Cece.
I'm just here, poking at my uneaten seared octopus.
"Another bomb," Nate says, pushing a clear shot glass into my hand.
"Dude, c'mon. I can still taste my last one," I argue half-heartedly. I'm still taking the shot.
I'm already feeling pleasantly buzzed, and I promised myself earlier that I would not get out of hand tonight. Or this weekend for that matter. I can't let Emmy or Josh or anyone get to me.
I hold the shot in my hand, waiting for Nate to pour for the others. Laughter erupts at the other end of the table, and I see Travis and Alex and Emmy and Josh all turning red.
"You good?" Brody whispers in my ear.
"Golden," I almost growl, tipping the glass and emptying it into my mouth.
"Dude," Brody pushes.
I skirt him off, standing up and removing myself from the table. Cece glances at me as I turn, but quickly goes back to answering Lauren.
I'm almost at the restaurant lobby by the time Brody catches up with me.
"Brooks," I hear his judgmental voice behind me.
"What?"
He doesn't say anything but just rolls his eyes at me. I take a step towards him and realize how old he's gotten. We stand together, staring at each other, as the giant Buddha sculpture stares down on us.
"Why'd you leave?" He asks, eyes narrowed.
"Restroom." I shrug.
"That way," Brody says, flicking his head back the opposite way of the front door.
"Then air. I don't know, why don't you tell me since you know everything." I rub my hands over my eyes, the third sake bomb taking effect.
The hostess brushes past us, menu books stacked in her hands, leading a table of seven to their table. Brody and I step back to let them all pass.
How is it –With –You know," Brody asks quietly.
"It's fine," I bark.
"And that bothers you?" He suggests.
"Fine doesn't bother me," I say defensively.
"Seems to."
"I have Cece and everything is good. I'm just exhausted. Been a busy month," I say, trying to sound convincing.
"Store. Engagement. Now." Brody lists.
"Exactly." I sigh.
"Thought you were waiting until after the wedding–" Brody begins.
"Is that what this is? Lauren's mad I proposed before–" I start, feeling my blood boil.
"Not at all," Brody says, shaking his head.
"Seems like you did it because–Well..." He trails off.
"Well what?" I fold my arms, looking him straight in the eyes.
I know what.
"To prove a point," Brody finally says.
"To whom?" I raise my eyebrow.
"Maybe yourself."
I let his answer sink in. I think about the past year, about how much everything has changed, evolved. LA. Edge. Cece. Our engagement.
"I'm not proving anything," I say. "I'm happy. Cece and I are happy. This just –isn't ideal."
"I get it," Brody says, seeming happy that I've admitted partial defeat. "It's only tomorrow. You guys leave early Sunday."
"I know," I nod. "Only tomorrow."
YOU ARE READING
Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)
ChickLit*THREEQUEL* Even when they're done, all things are never really over. It's been one year since Emmy left for the airport, two tickets in hand. A long, eventful year. Brooks has successfully launched the flagship Edge and snagged a model girlfriend...
