She laughed.
“I'm hoping to meet a nice, rich, handsome guy, sure,” she said with a grin. “Whether that happens, we'll see. Don't worry, being a wingman – well, let's say wing woman – is easy! It just makes approaching guys, or being approached by guys, that much easier. Takes the pressure off. A creepy dude might try his luck if a girl is by herself, but if she's got a friend with her, he might think twice about hitting on her. And also, it's easier to approach a hot guy with a girlfriend on your arm for moral support. Makes for a good self-confidence boost when you're feeling shy.”
“I think I can do that,” I said with a smile. “Yeah, I don't think it'll be too hard.”
“You'll nail it,” she said. “And I hope you change your mind about picking up a guy. It'd do you good. Get your mind off the asshole who stood you up tonight. And, you know, get past that thing with Simon.”
Ugh. The mention of that name made my skin crawl, and I really wished that she hadn't brought it up. Still, I could understand, though. She had to be at least a little bit curious about how he could have been such a crazy maniac that I had to move hundreds of miles and legally change my name to get away from him. Anyone would be curious about circumstances like that.
Luckily, though, before this conversation could go any further, the taxi driver interrupted us.
“Hey, ladies, we're here: Swanky Frank's Cocktail Lounge.”
“Thanks,” said Angie, and she leaned forward and handed him the fare.
“How much is that?” I asked. “Can I chip in?”
“No, no way. You're the one who got stood up tonight, A-, I mean, Viv. No. I'm not letting you pay for anything. This is my treat. I want you to feel better and forget about that jerk.”
“Come on, really? It's not that big of a deal.”
“No, I insist. Come on, we're holding the poor driver up, get out already!” she said with a cheerful smile.
She seemed pretty set on this, so I figured it would be pointless to argue with her about it, so I just got out. The cocktail lounge looked really great; flashy and smart, but not too over the top. I straightened out my dress, got a makeup mirror out of my handbag, and checked my reflection.
“You're looking smokin' hot,” said Angie as she walked past me. “No need to stare into that thing. Come on, let's get inside and get this party started.”
“Sure thing,” I said, following her after I put my makeup mirror back in my bag.
Inside, it was fairly crowded; this seemed like a popular hangout spot. Everyone was dressed to the nines, and the subtle lighting inside gave the place a muted but glamorous look. Angie was right; this was just what I needed to get my mind off of being stood up.
“Come on, let's hit the bar,” suggested Angie. “Time to get things rolling!”
“I like that idea,” I said.
We headed over to the bar, where an attractive young bartender, who was muscular and looked to be around 21 or 22 years old, flashed us a bright white smile.
“Welcome to Swanky Frank's,” he said. “What can I get you two ladies tonight?”
“I'll start off with a Bloody Mary,” said Angie. “And my friend will have...”
“A Screwdriver.”
“Alright, one Bloody Mary and one Screwdriver coming right up.”
The bartender went over and fixed us our drinks, and brought them over to us a few moments later. Angie paid, and then we both looked at the cocktails with grins on our faces.
“Selfie time!” said Angie as she pulled out her phone. “We've gotta put this on Facebook.”
“Uh, hold up, Angie,” I said, feeling slightly uncomfortable. “Could I ask you to please not take any photos of us tonight? Or even mention my name on Facebook. It's just that... You know, with Simon, I'm not sure if his friends might be mutual friends of yours, and you know, he and you and I, we were all at the same senior high, and someone might, you know...”
She nodded, smiling sympathetically.
“It's alright, I understand. Wow, he must have done some seriously crazy stuff to have messed you up like this. I mean, you know, to have screwed up your life to the point where you can't even put pictures or get tagged on Facebook because he might hunt you down.”
“I know, Angie, I know. It really is horrible. I had to pretty much erase everything about the person I was before just to make sure he wouldn't find me. And you know, if he does find me, I'm going to have to do it all again to get away from him again. It's not something I want to have to do again. It was hard enough the first time.”
“So, look, I don't wanna pry or anything, so tell me if I'm out of line for asking, but what exactly did he do to you?”