Blogger Girl (12 page)

“Oh, you totally should. She is considered top notch in the genre. And her tweets are hilarious!”

Appearing at my side, Bridget handed me another beer. “I bought you another drink sweetie.” Then she turned to Hannah with a sour expression. “Oh, hi.”

Hannah smirked. “Well if it isn’t the best friend. I should have guessed you wouldn’t be far away.” Giving Bridget the Manhattan once-over, she said, “Your hair looks the same as it did in high school.”

Bridget nonchalantly ran a hand through her ruby locks. “I'll take that as a compliment. Thanks.”

Hannah shrugged and turned back to me. “So, about my book?”

“What about it?” I asked sweetly.

“I spoke to Erin.” Closing the distance between us as if to tell me a secret, she confided
,
“To be honest
,
I had no idea who she was when she friended me on Facebook but figured, what the hell. Not the first time that has happened. The more the merrier, right? Especially with the book coming out. After I accepted the request, she messaged me that her sister ran a chick lit blog but I didn't make the connection to you right away. She looks so tall in her pictures!” She paused while scanning me from head to toe. “Anyway, she thought my book would be perfect for your site. Sweet girl, by the way. So…” Hannah looked at me eagerly.

If she thought making nice with my little sister was the golden ticket to my website, she was as “wack” as Erin. Two could play at this game. Playing dumb, I said, “Oh! You want me to review
your
new book?” I twisted my ankles to get another look at my fabulous shoes. “Yes, Candy asked me and I told her I had to check my schedule. I have so many books on my TBR list,” I said apologetically.

Hannah leaned in and whispered, “Maybe you can push mine to the top of the list? As a favor? I mean we’ve known each other since we were only yea big.” Looking down at me, she covered her mouth with her hand. “I mean since we were children.” Matter-of-factly, she continued, “And I’m sure your readers will want to hear your thoughts on the book. Great shoes by the way.”

“Thank y…”

“Are they real?”

Responding for me, her nostrils flaring, Bridget snapped, “Everything about Kim is real. Which is more than I can say for some of your body parts!”

I put a hand to my mouth to cover the perfect combination of horror, amusement and gratitude I was feeling for my friend who had already made her way back to the bar. Holding back a laugh, I said, “I’m sorry. Bridget is a bit drunk.”
I’m not really sorry at all.

Smirking, Hannah said, “Evidently. I’m surprised you guys are still so close.”

Feeling my muscles tense, I narrowed my eyes at her. “Oh? Why is that?”

Hannah shrugged. “I know you’re just a secretary, but at least you have your blog. Doesn't Bridget work at home or something?”

I momentarily felt short of breath as if someone had cut off the supply of oxygen to my lungs. “Bridget runs her own web design company and has an office in the luxury doorman apartment that she owns, yes. And I’m ‘
just a secretary.’”

Looking at me with pity, she said, “Not surprising you’re a professional reader. Back in high school, you always had your nose behind a book. Although I probably shouldn’t poke fun at readers since I need you all to buy my...” Hannah stopped mid-sentence and gawked at me. “Oh, my God. I just remembered something.”

I took a gulp of beer and feigned boredom. “Yeah? What's that?”

“You wanted to be a writer too.”

I felt my face drain of color. “What makes you say that?”

“That poetry contest sophomore year. The winner was going to have her poem published in
Self Magazine
.” With a wry face, she said, “You showed so much promise. Too bad you didn’t win. You came in second though, right?”

“No, I didn't.”
Thanks for reminding me.

Frowning, she said, “Sorry. I probably shouldn't have said anything. But your blog is great at least, right?”

I nodded. “Right.” I decided this conversation had run its course. “Anyway, I’ll let Candy know if I’ll be able to review your book as soon as I can.”

Her face noticeably brightening, Hannah said, “Great!
Cut on the Bias
is going to get a lot of publicity. I would hate for you to miss the boat.”

Oh no she didn’t!
“Well, like I said, I’m pretty inundated right now with requests from editors, agents and the like. But I’ll see if I can fit you in.” I paused for a beat. “Since we’ve known each other since we were
yea big
and everything.” Wanting to guarantee I got the last word, I said, “It was great seeing you, Hannah,” quickly turned my back and walked over to Bridget.

Facing straight ahead, Bridget whispered, “Is she still behind you?”

I casually looked over my shoulder. “No sign of the Wicked Witch. Here’s hoping she flies far, far away on her broomstick.”

Turning to face me, Bridget flashed me a huge smile and held up her beer. Slurring, she said, “Karma’s a bitch, init?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Hannah had managed to get her passive/aggressive digs in but I had held my own. Studying Bridget, I said, “You okay?”

Shifting her body weight from one side to the other, Bridget said, “Yip. Why?”

“You’re slurring and slightly off balance.” I eyed the beer in her hand. “Maybe you should switch to water.”

Bridget defiantly took a long gulp of beer and said, “Haven’t had sex in a year!”

Guessing she probably had no idea how loud she’d said that, I looked around the room right in time to see Jonathan approaching us. “Okay then. Might not want to advertise that. And no one is forcing you to abstain! Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

Gripping the bar for support, Bridget said, “Now’s as good a time as an…” She stopped mid-sentence as Jonathan appeared in front of us. “Jonathan! What’s up, Doc?”

Jonathan’s brows crinkled together in concern. “You alright, Bridged?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” she said, slipping onto the bar stool next to her . “Shot?”

Jonathan’s eyes met mine and he raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know about you guys, but I need some water bad.”

“Water schmater. Shot shot shot!” Bridget pounded her knuckles against the bar while Jonathan motioned to the bartender and made a slashing motion against his throat. “Official party is almost over, but the lobby bar is still open. Why don’t we take a quick break and resume drinking there?”

Nodding in agreement, I said, “Sounds like a plan. Round of water all around and we’ll pick up the drinking at the Grand Bar. Sound good, Bridge?”

“Whatever,” she mumbled.

I glanced at Jonathan. “Can you keep her company a second? I’ve gotta use the bathroom.”

“Can’t she go with you?” Jonathan looked at me pleadingly.

I blurted out, “No!” but quickly composed myself. “I have to make a phone call and it’s, er, kind of private. What’s the big deal?”

“What if she throws up?” Jonathan looked horrified at the thought.

“She won’t,” I promised. Bridget had always been a next morning puker.

Jonathan made a gesturing motion towards the exit. “Fine. Go. Be fast!”

I hurried to the ladies’ room to make sure my hair and makeup had held up, smiling at ex-classmates I passed along the way. When I faced my reflection in the mirror, I was pleased to note that the light spritz of Big Sexy Hairspray I borrowed from Bridget had kept every soft curl in place. And the primer I used on my eyelids had kept my smoky eye shadow smudge free. I looked great and felt even better remembering the defeated look on Hannah’s face when I repeatedly refused to confirm or deny whether I’d review
Cut on the Bias
. I might always have my nose behind a book, but it wouldn’t be
her
book.
“Miss the Boat” my ass!

It was now or never. Locating Nicholas’ last text on my phone, I wrote, “Having post-reunion drinks at the Grand Bar. Interested?” I didn’t particularly like the idea of introducing Nicholas to my friends when I barely knew him myself, but I didn’t know the neighborhood well enough to suggest another bar. I just hoped Jonathan would leave early and Bridget wouldn’t say anything stupid.

To avoid staring at my phone waiting for a response, I popped a breath mint in my mouth and reapplied my lip gloss. By the time I put the gloss back in my bag, my phone beeped a text message from Nicholas. “Be there in a few.” I took a deep inhale, let out a slow exhale and willed my heart to stop beating so damn fast. Apparently alcohol was not enough to dull my reactions to the very thought of spending time with Nicholas outside of the office.

The Club Room was almost cleared out by the time I got back, but Jonathan and Bridget were still standing at the bar. Although I wasn’t sure what Bridget was doing would actually be considered “standing.” She was slumped head-first over the wooden bar. Jonathan was gently rubbing her back but stopped when he saw me. “It’s about time.”

“It’s been less than ten minutes since I left you. Relax.” I glanced over at Bridget who had not uttered a sound. “Okay there, Bridge?”

From underneath her thick head of curls, I heard a muffled, “No.”

“Maybe we should get you home,” I said, gently patting the back of her head.

Still not looking up, she muttered, “Don’t wanna go home yet. Wanna see Nicholas Strong Rhymes with Long.”

Jonathan shook his head in confusion. “What the hell is she talking about?”

I felt my face get warm, removed my hand from Bridget’s head and whispered, “Nothing. Gibberish. She’s three sheets to the wind.” I rolled my eyes for effect. Focusing on Bridget again, I said, “What do you want to do then?” I tried to discreetly check the time on my phone without Jonathan seeing me. I probably still had a few minutes before Nicholas arrived to get Bridget in better shape and at the very least, helping her would be a distraction from stressing over it.

Bridget sat up abruptly. “Need to pee.”

“I’ll take you,” I offered.

“I’ll meet you guys in the bar,” Jonathan said before escaping the Club Room like it was Alcatraz.

***

I practiced patience while Bridget used the bathroom, checked herself out from every angle and splashed cold water on her cheeks, but I drew the line when she slapped herself across the face. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Trying to sober up.” Bridget said.

I chuckled. “Does that work?”

“Actually, it does. But it also hurts like a motherfucker!” Bridget giggled and I was pleased to see that some light had returned to her eyes.

Checking my hair in the mirror one last time, I said, “Good. Now that you’re showing some semblance of returned sobriety, can we please make like a tree and get out of here?”

Cocking her head to the side, Bridget said, “You mean make like a tree and leave?”

I glanced at my watch. “Whatever it takes to get downstairs so I can meet up with Nicholas.”

Bridget’s eyes opened wide. “You called him?”

“Yes. Well, texted him. But he’s on his way. He might be here already.” I felt my stomach flutter and my pulse race at the thought.

“Then what the fuck are we still doing in the ladies’ room? Let’s go!”

***

When we got to the bar, I immediately spotted Jonathan, Pete and Andy perched at one of the many tables located around the edge of the room. They were drinking from bottles of Goose Island IPA and laughing as if ten years had not passed since they used to play poker every Friday night in high school. I walked Bridget over to their table and said, “I’m going to take a walk to see if Nicholas is here. I’ll be back.” I discreetly wiped my clammy hands on the table and willed my legs to stop quivering.

Bridget started to sit down but hesitated. Her eyes wide, she asked, “Do you want me to come with you?”

I debated. On the one hand, I would look less awkward circling the bar with Bridget than by myself. But then I would have to slickly lose her. Granted, she wasn’t as sloppy as she’d been fifteen minutes earlier, but I was not all that confident she was capable of taking a “get lost” hint. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I’m good. I’ll bring him to meet you at some point though.” Hopefully after Jonathan had already left. That was an introduction I didn’t really want to make.

Bridget extended her hand with her pinky pointed outward. “Swear?”

I entwined my pinky with hers. “Pinky swear.”

Borrowing Nicholas’ line from earlier that evening, she reached out to hug me and whispered, “Knock ‘em dead, Kimmie” in my ear.

I returned her embrace and whispered back, “That’s the plan.”

I began walking clockwise around the bar. Suddenly infused with adrenaline, I didn’t even try to remove the excited smile that was pasted on my face. I couldn’t wait to see Nicholas!

Until I saw him.

HE WAS STANDING BY THE BAR
facing away from me, but since I had stared after him as he left a room on several occasions, I had his back memorized and recognized him at once. He was talking to
her
. Correction: He was laughing with her. And she was smiling at him, exposing a chemically whitened slightly too large mouthful of teeth. And her hand reached down to swipe his arm not once, but twice within a couple of seconds. He didn’t try to brush it away.

My designer shoes felt glued to the floor. I was unable to move closer to them or head back in the other direction. And then she looked at me.

In a split second, her facial expression went from the evil stare she used to throw my way a decade earlier to a smile almost as bright as the one she had mere moments ago directed to Nicholas. It was as if she was temporarily lost in a time warp and then remembered that it was 2013 and I ran one of the most popular chick lit blogs on the Internet.

While still in an eye lock with Hannah, I saw Nicholas finally turn and see me standing there. In that moment, I didn’t care that he looked me over appreciatively. I didn’t care that unlike most straight guys, he actually knew how to wear a pair of jeans to show off his butt. At that moment, all I cared about was that he had come to the bar to have a drink with me and instead, was talking to
her
. Of course, he would talk to her. She was Hannah Marshak.