Love All The Way

20| Mistakes and martinis

The Uber to the bar where I'm meeting the girls takes around fifteen minutes. I stare out the window, eyes on the snow-covered streets of New York, and think back to that party. It's hard not to think that if it weren't for that night, I'd never have ended up in that elevator with Milo, nor would I have gotten hurt. But that's the pain talking, the part of me that lacks all logic and sense because deep down, despite the fact it's ended like this, I can't bring myself to regret it.

Regret him.

The second the Uber pulls up to the bar, I feel nervous. I should have stayed home and spent the evening with Mulan, but once again, I succumbed to social pressures. With a slow, steady breath, I remind myself I'm a worldly seven and walk in. 

The dimly lit space is alive with the sounds of laughter and conversation, creating a symphony of energy that is palpable. The bar, crafted from rich, gleaming wood, is the centerpiece, drawing the eye with its polished surface and expertly-mixed cocktails. Jess would love it – she loves anything even remotely boutique – which is why I feel lonely without her. 

Lucas and the others are already at the bar sipping Pornstar Martinis. From here, it's hard to imagine a more glamorous group. I'd spent years looking forward to the moment I could join them, that I would prove to Lucas I'm just as deserving, and the idea of being promoted to seven was a dream. Still, now that I'm finally one of them, something feels terribly wrong.

I push down the feeling and sneak up behind them. Miranda turns first, her blonde hair swinging in curls around her shoulders, and gives me an awkward hug. "We were starting to think you'd bailed on us," she says before hollering down the bartender. "She'll have what we're having."

The others hug me in quick succession, with Lucas being the last to stand up. He leans forward to hug me, and I catch a lungful of his spicy cologne, which almost smells offensive. Milo's aftershave is subtle but crisp, the kind that smells like a clear winter morning or fresh-cotton sheets; Lucas smells like desperation. 

I squirm from his hug and slip onto a barstool. Across the table, he watches me with the same suggestive look that would drive me insane but which I now find creepy. It's funny how that happens –  the very things you loved about someone can give you the ick. 

For the next ten minutes, as I work to avoid him, things aren't as awkward as I thought they'd be. We make small talk about life, with the girls asking me where I grew up and went to school. They're surprised – and thrilled – to learn it's LA, but I can't for the life of me figure out why. Still, coming along tonight had been the right move. It's eased some of my nerves, and now when I see them at work tomorrow, at least we'll have something to talk about.

We're on our fourth Pornstars, the room slightly spinning when Charter lets out a huff. "Oh god," she says at something behind me, "the sixes have walked in."

I look to my left and freeze. Sitting in the corner is most of the office from six, including Jess and Milo. What are the chances? And what are the chances tonight is the night Milo decides to be sociable? I swallow hard and contemplate using my coat to hide me, but it's too late. Jess looks first and beckons me over, but a quick look at Miranda, who briefly shakes her head, gives me pause.

Milo looks over, his blue eyes like lasers as they settle on my face. His eyebrows furrow at Lucas and me, and something fleeting crosses his features, but it's hard to tell what it is. He looks good, though – too good. Gone are the charcoal trousers and dark navy shirt, replaced with black jeans and a fitted gray tee.

I realize I'm practically undressing him with my eyes and force myself to look away. To the girls, I say, "One moment," and get off my barstool. Lucas grabs my arm to stop me, which stops me in my tracks.