Spinning

Chapter 37: Buy some Brazilian gaydar

"And so my boss tells me I need to babysit my client so he doesn't get in trouble. Can you believe it? I told him, 'He's a grown man, that bastard can fend for himself.' I'm in M&A for Christ's sake. Plus, I wanted to get fucked up too. I mean, what else are charity events good for besides the open bar?"

    Jess laughs loudly. She's drunk. I know because her hands are all over Carter. Well, I know because she's had four glasses of wine and a shot of Sambuca. But her friskiness with Carter is another give away. She paws at him like he'll leave her for one of the bimbos at the bar. He probably would, if Jess wasn't giving him so much attention. I forget what investment bank she dragged him out of.

    "Anyways, the event ends – well, actually I don't know if it ended, but the bar was closed so it might as well have ended – and that guy – the one I'm supposed to keep my client away from – invites us back to his penthouse for some whiskey. We go back, and he brings us into a hidden room. Seriously, we had to pull a book out of his library to get the door to open. There's a fire already roaring in the room, with a bear pellet on the floor and a giant moose head above the fireplace. He showed us where he keeps his condoms so his wife doesn't find out he's fucking some prostitute with giant..."

    Carter rambles on in his starched suit and smug tie; I can't listen to him anymore. He talks without looking at us, like we aren't worthy of his eye contact. His self-centeredness is so strong, it might disrupt the Earth's rotation of the Sun. Breathing in his air of arrogance is more noxious than the cigarettes I'm trying to quit. I hate everything about him. And Jess looks on at him, mid-story, with a nauseously dreamy look in her eyes. 

    "Jordan?"

    "Hm? What?" I'm pulled away from my roaming thoughts.

"Do you need another?"

I look down at my glass that was brimming with a gin and tonic moments ago. I look at his own glass. It's still half full, but he is attentively watching mine.

"I do, desperately. I'll come with you."

Joe leads us away from the high top table we are gathered around and guides me to my sanctuary. The bartender quickly delivers two more gin and tonics. I ask for two pickle back shots as well. Carter's talk of whiskey got me in the mood. Joe gives me a small smile as the bartender retrieves the pickle juice. Can he sense my suffering?

I don't want to be here. The only reason I am here is because I've neglected Jess as of late, with the re-introduction of Eddie back into my life. She doesn't know this, yet, but I still have the guilt of my secrecy looming near. So when she asked if I would go on a double date with her and Carter, I gloomily accepted.

Joe is Carter's college friend. Or coworker, maybe. Or neighbor. I can't remember. I'm so focused on how much I hate everything Carter stands for, that all the other details have been brushed aside. It's weird, though, because Joe seems like a nice guy. He isn't pushy or boastful. He hasn't really added to the conversation, either, except in the rare moments when Carter silently gives us permission to talk. He's smiled at me a few times, to which I smile back, and I think I see a bit of sympathy in his eyes.

He's cute enough. No, he's really cute. He has a nice jawline, with dirty blonde hair that's cut and styled like a British mobster or something, where it's short on the sides and the back, but longer on top and combed to the side. He's dressed very well, too: very handsome. I eye his sharp grey suit and the skinny tie that lands the perfect height above his belt. I look down at my own outfit. I came straight from the lab, so I'm in high-waist jeans, my trusty platform Doc Martens and a black sweater with ballooned sleeves. I wonder if he is judging my casual attire. Everyone else in this awful bar seems to have come from work, and apparently I'm the only one who can wear goddamn jeans in the office.