“I can’t. I have dinner plans tonight with Jackson. I’m going to cook.”
“He’s in for a treat. What are you going to make?”
“Something easy. Probably my fajitas.”
“That man will propose by the end of the night if you make your mom’s margaritas.”
I laugh because when we turned twenty-one, she shared her recipe. It’s equal parts tequila and Everclear, which is pure grain alcohol and one-hundred-ninety proof. You don’t taste it, but it definitely has a kick, and it softens the bite of the tequila. They were very popular with family friends, and she was always asked to bring them to parties, but she’d never shared the recipe.
“No, they can’t sell Everclear in California, so he’ll be stuck with just tequila. It tastes the same anyway.”
“Why are you really moving home to your father? You know that will be a mess.”
“The job I do pays the same in Houston as it does here, and the cost of living is a fraction of what it is in San Francisco.”
“Use the experience you’ve gained the last year to find another job that pays better.”
“I love my job at Soleil. Nothing will ever compare.”
“Then demand a raise. He knows he’s paying you shit money. Tell him if he wants to keep you, he needs to pay you more.”
“Do you know how many phone calls he got this morning from strange women? He got eighteen. Yes! Eighteen. He can’t stop those calls. They will come regardless, and even if he makes a commitment to me, what if one day the temptation gets to be too much? My dad cheated on my mom, and every single boyfriend I’ve ever had cheated on me.”
“Not all men are pigs.”
I fight the tears. “I know, but every relationship has its challenges, and when that happens, sometimes they forget their promises.”
“I think you’re wrong. And if he isn’t willing to change his world for you, then fuck him. You don’t want him.”
I need to change the subject. “Like what Damien did for you?”
She smiles. She’s so in love with Damien, and they really are right for one another. “He’s great isn’t he?”
I nod. “What cute thing has he done for you lately?”
“He’s taking sailing lessons so we can go on a sunset sail, just the two of us.”
“Awww, I love that.”
We transition to lighter topics, and after we giggle our way through the rest of our lunch, we part ways, and I head back to the office. It’s a busy afternoon, and the phone seems to ring continually. I’m able to answer some questions, but I keep a running list of those I can’t and will need to call back after I have the answers. I also take sixteen calls from women chasing Jackson. I just add them to his list. I don’t keep them from him, but they seem to think I do. If he wants to talk to them, he has their numbers.
While I wait for Jackson to return from his last meeting, I start looking at the job boards in Houston. There isn’t much if you don’t want to work in oil and gas. I find a job for a political and environmental affairs position at my dad’s company. I apply. I know if I were to ask him to walk my resume in, they’d interview me and probably hire me, but I want to do this on my own.
Based on the lack of tech jobs open in Houston, I move over to the Austin job boards and apply for a project manager position at an environmental startup. That has promise. I need a real plan if I’m going to move back to Texas. If I return to Houston without a job, I’ll have to move home. I’ll be at my dad’s mercy, and he’ll have me doing whatever he says.
My cell phone pings to notify me of a text.
Jackson: Sorry, but I’ve been pulled into a dinner meeting. Please still meet me at my place. I’ll try not to be too late.
I take a deep breath. I ordered groceries this afternoon and had them delivered. I try to push back the bitterness of disappointment. I wanted to impress Jackson with my cooking skills. I text Gabby.
Me: Dinner plans canceled. Still open to meet for drinks?
Gabby: Absolutely. Same bat time, same bat channel?
Me: Yes. See you in 20.
I alert Brian that I’m heading out to meet a friend for drinks. I text Jackson.
Me: We’ll try dinner another night. I’m meeting Gabby. Talk later.
As I walk in, Gabby is walking out. “Let’s go somewhere else tonight,” she says, grabbing my arm.
“What? What do you mean? I’m in the mood for one of Tom’s mojitos.”
“I think the Cuban place up on Cole has the best mojito.”
“Okay, but I need to go to the bathroom.” I dart around her to the ladies room.
As I exit, I look over the crowd of happy hour drinkers and spot Jackson, who is with Jennifer or Valerie—whatever the fuck her name is.
Now I understand. I’m not leaving. I want Jackson to see that I know he’s lied to me.
I sit down at the bar, and Gabby sits next to me. “I’m sorry.”
I put my arm around her shoulder. “You’re a terrific friend. I knew this would happen. I should have listened to my gut. I’m going to have a drink here, and then I’m going back to your place tonight.”
“Sounds like a great plan.” She looks over at the bartender “Tommy, please bring my friend here a mojito and for me… Well, I think I’ll have the same.”
“Sure thing.”
