“Good. Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to bring us our drinks. I’ll have a margarita, salt on the rim. Esteban will have a Dos Equis. My other two friends will have a vodka cranberry and a hard lemonade. After you bring us these drinks, you will not come back to this table until I signal you. Is that understood?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do I know you from somewhere—”
“Is that understood?”
He nodded stiffly.
“Good. I’ll be watching you. If you make anyone else uncomfortable, say, perhaps, someone you’ve known intimately in the past, I will take that little twig you call a pecker and shove it so far up your nose, you’ll be tasting your own cock at the back of your throat.”
“Eep,” Santiago said.
“I love this,” Paul whispered fervently.
“Drinks,” I barked at Santiago, and he departed.
“God,” Corey said. “You make my heart happy.”
This pleased me greatly.
It was good that we didn’t have to wait long. With every minute that went by, I was getting more and more anxious, not really sure if I was ready to see what was about to happen. Because what if Darren was there and he was happy to be? What if it was an actual date? What if he and Caleb started fucking right there on the table on top of the complimentary chips and salsa?
I didn’t think my heart could take it.
“They’re here,” Corey whispered.
We all stiffened and I kicked Corey under the table. “You have to say it like we practiced!”
Corey rolled his eyes. “Red leader, red leader: the whale has breached.”
“We really need to get a better code for things,” Paul told me.
I glanced surreptitiously toward the front of the restaurant. Sure enough, Darren was there, with Caleb at his side. They weren’t touching and weren’t even necessarily standing close to each other. Darren looked good, wearing a pair of sinfully tight jeans and a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms.
Caleb looked like a whore, but that was fine. I’m sure he just had to work with what he was given.
“Okay,” I said, turning back to the table. “This is no longer a drill. We are a go. Now, tell me the name you will be referred to for the rest of the time we’re here.”
“Esteban Raymundo Moreno,” Vince said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Slim Trim Colvin,” Corey said. “Jazz flautist.”
We all looked at Paul.
He shook his head. “Fuck all of you. I won’t say it.”
“You will,” I snapped. “You will say it right now and you will be happy about it.”
“You can’t make me!”
“Paul, don’t make me come over there, I swear to god. I will give you such a spanking.”
“Say it,” Slim Trim whispered. “Say it out loud and embrace it.”
“You can do it,” Esteban said. “I believe in you.”
“Agnes Beaverton,” Paul said morosely.
“And I will be Helen Von Trapp,” I finished. “We’re live. Don’t fuck this up.”