I clench my jaw. "No, Gwen. I want to get there. As it is, we’ll barely make the end of cocktail hour."
She doesn’t make any attempt to hide her pout. "Fine," she says on a long sigh. "I’ll just get my coat." She marches off to get it and I remain outside waiting for her.
She locks up and I open the car door for her and she slides in, making no attempt to pull her dress down when the high slit in it rides indecently high and lets me know she’s not wearing underwear. I turn away quickly, slamming the door behind her. What the f**k? That stomach virus feels imminent.
"So, Jake," she coos, as I pull onto the street, "where’s the after party? I haven’t seen your new condo yet." I look over at her and she bats her eyelashes, smiling coyly. Did I really go through everything I did, all the hell, all the sessions with Doc, all the surgeries, all the struggles, to be sitting in my car, dying slowly of death by cloying perfume, with this clingy, uninteresting Fembot? Gwen is not the type of person I want as a friend, guilt or no. She’s gotta be cut loose.
I completely ignore her comment and her blatant disregard for what I told her in my office this week, deciding the best tactic is to change the subject. "So how’s your new job, Gwen?"
"Pfft," she half hisses, half sighs. "It’s pointless." She studies her nails for a minute, a frown on her face. "Daddy wants me to ‘gain an appreciation for hard work.’ So annoying." She sighs again as if my heart should be breaking for her.
Jesus, she got a job at a prestigious law firm handed to her on a silver platter because her dad has connections. I’m practically sobbing my eyes out for her hard lot in life. It’s not like I have much room to talk about getting handed a job, but I have the sense enough to know how f**king lucky I am in that regard.
I think of Evie, working her ass off as a maid, and doing it with dignity. She could teach Gwen a few lessons about an appreciation for hard work. I almost laugh out loud.
"What else would you do, Gwen? Shop all day?"
It’s a rude thing to say, but, f**k, people like Gwen piss me off and my patience with her is wearing thin. She’s so wrapped up in herself that she doesn’t realize that the world extends beyond her own petty problems. She’s too shallow to look around and marvel at all the gifts surrounding her, not one of which she actually had to work for. And I’m not even talking about the material wealth, I’m talking about a family, a safe place to land. I would have given my right arm for that, and Gwen complains about it. Fucking clueless.
She narrows her eyes at me.
"It’s not a bad thing to support the economy, Jake. My shopping supports jobs. And by the way, do you think looking like this comes easily? I work at looking this amazing. It’s a full time job in itself. There’s highlighting, and waxing, and pumicing, and manicuring, and tanning and–"
I tune her out after that. Is she for real? Now I remember why I needed to be wasted to hang out with Gwen in the past.
I turn the music up and we ride in silence for the next five minutes, thank God. I’m f**king exhausted and I’ve only been with her for twenty minutes. We pull up in front of the Millennium Hotel and I leave my car with the valet.
As we’re walking to the elevator, Gwen latches on to my arm. We get on the elevator and I shrug her off of me, giving her a pointed look. When I said friends, I did not mean friends with benefits. She’s still not getting that.
We step off of the elevator and she latches back onto me. Jesus. Deep breath. Two hours.
I lead her over to the bar where I see a couple people from the company, including Christine, and we greet them. Christine introduces us to her husband Tom, whom I’ve never met and we all chat for a few minutes before a guy with a tray of champagne comes by. I take two and hand one to Gwen.
"Gwen," Christine says, when we’ve all taken a drink, "that’s a lovely dress. It certainly doesn’t give us any doubt as to what a lovely figure you have, does it?" She smiles brightly.
"Gwen runs her hands down her hips, smiling a big, fake smile. "Thank you, Christine. If you’ve got it, flaunt it, right? And if you don’t... well..." She trails off, looking Christine up and down. Christine’s husband almost chokes on his drink and I clench my jaw, thoroughly humiliated.
Christine looks like she’s holding back a laugh though, and so I take a deep breath and say, "I’m going to find some appetizers. I’m starved." I turn around and I grit my teeth as Gwen turns with me, still latched to my arm.
I hear a small gasp and when I look up, Evie is standing directly in front of me in a serving uniform, a tray of appetizers in her hand. She looks frozen. My heart feels like it lurches toward her, and I can’t help the smile that automatically spreads across my face. I want to run to her and scoop her up and kiss her all over her beautiful face. The unexpected sight of her is even more welcome after the last half an hour with Gwen. Oh shit, Gwen. Attached to my arm. Fuck!
"Evie," I say, pointedly taking Gwen’s arm and removing it from mine. I feel her stiffen as I detach her but my eyes are glued to Evie who blinks and shoots me a fake smile. Shit.
"Jakey, do you know her?" I hear Gwen’s bitchy voice coming up behind me, but I am physically unable to look away from Evie. Jakey? She’s never once called me that before. I see Evie glance at Gwen, a look of hurt crossing her expression. This is one of the most f**ked up situations I’ve ever been in. And that’s saying something.