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Blame It On The Gin:On The Rocks

Page 3

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But she's wrong. It was the very best place for me. I want to do public relations for a company I believe in, that I'm excited about, that is doing something to make the world a better place.

So many PR jobs are for tech gigs that are way too corporate for me. I want something that feels real, that feels like I'm really making a difference.

Tori is rooting through my clothes and hers. "I'm wearing this." She holds up a leopard print mini dress.

I smile. "You look so good in that one."

"Ooh," she coos. "We could be twinsies. I have a zebra print dress too."

I laugh. "We are not going as animal print besties tonight."

She pouts. "Fine. How about you wear this one with the little pink hearts?"

I smile. Pink hearts aren't the worst thing. They’re better than animal print trying to tell someone I'm more wild than I am. Hearts signify sweet, adorable, a little precious, things I can get behind. "Fine," I say, plucking the heart print dress from her hands. "Let's see if it fits."

She zips me up a few minutes later and I do a little twirl in our bedroom. "What do you think?" I ask.

"I think with some fishnets and platforms you'd look stunning."

I laugh, shoving her. "You think I'm going to wear fishnets and platform heels? No. I was thinking those ballet flats and some black tights."

"How about a compromise," Tori says. "Bare legs and you get the flats."

"Fine,” I say. "You win. Now, can we just get this over with?"

"The other girls aren't even here yet. We're leaving in ninety minutes. But you've gotta do something with your hair and your face," Tori directs.

"Bossy much! What are you doing?" I ask.

"I'm going to go take a shower. I've got to shave all my lady bits. I have plans tonight."

"Plans?" I ask. "What sort of plans? It's my birthday."

"Sure," she says. "But I have to be prepared in case the night takes me somewhere exciting."

"All right, Miss Wild Child. You do you." I pick up my Kindle and open to the last page I was reading before she came in and ruined my pity party. I return to the romance novel that's been taking me away from my misery of being out of a job, but it's an office romance, which is almost sadistic. I'm reading about people in a working environment when I'm nowhere closer to getting my dream job.

Still, the banter is adorable and it passes the time. Soon enough I realize I've really got to do something with my hair. The girls are all arriving. I hear them all having their first round in the kitchen.

I put on a brave face and sit down in front of my bedroom mirror to do my makeup and hair. I can be a team player, even if I don't have a dream job.

When we get to the bar On The Rocks, the girls put a birthday crown on my head and tell me it's time for shots. "Shots?" I grimace.

"Yes!" Tori says. "You're the birthday queen. So yas, queen, we're getting shots."

I laugh and walk with them to the bar. I'm maybe a little more straitlaced than them, but I'm not a Debbie Downer. I can have fun.

Tori notices the smile on my face and she nudges me with her elbow. "Hey, maybe tonight you'll finally lose your V-card."

I roll my eyes. "I wish."

But Tori takes that to mean I'm hopeful. "Yas, queen!" she repeats. "Now, let's get this party started," she sings. "Shots!"

3

GRANT

At the bar with Bobby, I chuckle at the group of ladies who are celebrating a birthday. They're having a great time and it's impossible not to smile as they laugh while getting a round of shots.

I overhear something about a buttery nipple, and I shake my head. They're going to have some trouble tonight if they are starting with those sugary shots. I just wish that there were a guy with them to make sure they all get home safe.

Bobby comes up to me. "Hey," he says. "Having a good time?"

"Sure," I say. We met a few hours ago at the restaurant he suggested, and we had dinner. Now, we're at our second stop, a bar I've never been to before called On The Rocks. And the vibe is pretty good. There's music going, a small dance floor, and plenty of bartenders. And their liquor offerings are impressive. They have a gleaming wooden bar running across the length of the room, signifying it's both upscale and a good time.

"So," Bobby says, "you want another round?"

"Just got one," I tell him, holding up the gin martini.

"Look," Bobby says, distracted. There's a girl getting hoisted to the top of the bar. She's wearing black flats. Her legs are bare. And as I keep traveling up her body, I smile at the pink hearts on her dress. They tell me she is both flirty and fun, but not exactly wild.



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