There’s absolutely no reason I need to drink this entire drink, I remind myself. A little self-control never hurt anybody.
But the first sip is so salty and sweet, I practically want to guzzle it. I love the feeling of it on my tongue, the way it slides through the middle of my body and creates a column of cool.
“Oh, that’s my girl,” Didi smirks.
She tips her head back and finishes her first drink already, knocking the glass back down on the table with a thud.
Casting her a warning look, I press my lips together tightly. “Just one for me,” I murmur. “I have an early morning. Martha said there’s a Koons coming in. I’m supposed to be there at the crack of nine.”
“God, did she really say that? Nine??” Hannah marvels.
She has never really embraced the idea that any job could possibly start before eleven.
I just shrug. “It won’t be so bad. It’s one of his big pieces, so there will be a whole crew. I just have to make sure they don’t knock down the Chihuly or anything.”
Hannah pulls a face, probably remembering one of her slapstick screw-ups. She has practically set the gallery on fire at least twice that I know of. I’m sure Martha only keeps her around because she is so goddamn beautiful that she actually sells a lot of art. People can’t resist her. I’ve often told her she should start asking them for organ donations too. You never know when you’re going to need a kidney. It’s good to plan ahead.
“Well you can certainly buy me another drink,” Didi sniffs.
She twists a curl behind her ear and winks at me. Elfish and slender, she makes a lot of her tomboyish good looks. I wish I could pull off a pixie cut. I even tried in middle school and got called “Joseph” for a semester, back when that kind of joke was okay. Since then, I stick with my easy-care, chin-length bob.
“I’d be happy to buy you a drink,” I joke. “Just as soon as you finish the pitcher.”
She leans forward, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t test me,” she says, her voice threatening. “Because I totally will.”
Desi wags her finger in the air. “What is wrong with you two tonight?” she squints. “You in a fight or something? You got something we need to talk about here?”
Didi wiggles her eyebrows at me. I sigh and gaze at the ceiling in frustration.
“We are not in a fight,” I say, letting out a long, hot breath. “Didi just likes me better when I’m drinking. So she said that my going-away present is to, and I quote, get completely fucked up.”
Didi raises a fist triumphantly in the air.
“That’s right!” she announces. “That’s my present! Get started!”
I raise my hands apologetically. “But I just told you I
have stuff I have to do tomorrow? I have to be at the gallery before any of you?”
“Nope!” she replies, popping the P decisively. “You promised, Joe. One last night on the town.”
“Yeah, I know, but—”
“You promised!”
Hannah leans forward and splashes another serving of margarita into my glass until it’s almost overflowing. She shrugs apologetically when she sees the evil look that I deliver toward her.
“Well, you did promise,” she explains meekly.
“That’s what I’m saying!” Didi giggles. Her cheeks are already flushing, bringing out that spray of freckles she works so hard to cover with makeup.
“You know what, I didn’t even eat today,” I add. “I actually feel pretty tipsy already. Maybe we can get some food?”
“I actually heard the shrimp here are pretty good,” Desi shrugs as she opens a menu and scans it.
“You don’t have to control everything all the time,” Didi sniffs. “Why don’t you let your hair down! Live a little, Joe!”
I feel a tight smile spread across my lips. Didi looks up at me, then away, as though she’s already pretty sloshy. But she knows that I hate it when she uses that “control freak” thing on me. I realize she’s trying to pick a fight and promise myself that I’m not to take the bait.