Her face says to me, I don’t know how to break this to you, and I wasn’t planning to bring any of this up today, but I’m moving in with my new boy toy and you will have to figure out life on your own now.
I am not thinking through the words that are about to spill out of my mouth: “I’m thinking about a change, anyway. My boss told me I can start working remotely, and it might be a good opportunity to travel a bit.”
All lies.
I would have to quit my job to move somewhere that I can afford to live because I can’t afford rent alone in Boston. I don’t want Macy or Grace to feel responsible for me or my job, however, so this little white lie, is healthiest for all involved.
“You’re moving out on me?” Macy asks.
Geez. I was trying to spare her of that question. What if I was serious about what I said? It could be my dream to be a poor nomad.
“I—well, I thought you were about to say the same,” I tell her.
“No, I was going to suggest that we look for another roommate,” she follows.
“We can do that,” I tell her, feeling like a dog with my tail between my legs.
“But you just said—”
“I thought you were going to say something else, and I didn’t want you to feel bad.”
“No, dummy,” she says, waving her hand at me like my thoughts are ridiculous. I still think she was going to say something else, but I’ll take her word for it.
“Okay then, a new roommate it is.” Part of me liked the idea of quitting my job and becoming a nomad, but it isn’t the most stable idea.
Our dessert comes out just as the three of us fall into an awkward silence. The three of us have never figured out how to accomplish this much quiet time.
“The three of you look like you might have seen a ghost,” I hear from behind us.
I haven’t known Lincoln long enough to recognize his voice, or I wouldn’t think, anyway, but my heart must have known because my pulse is racing before I turn to see his face, glowing under the candle-lit ambiance of this outdoor cantina.
I wonder if he lives at the hotel or if he has multiple jobs at the hotel. He wasn’t at the concierge desk when we came to dinner, and I only know that because I might have glanced over.
“You need tequila, don’t you?” he continues. “Has no one come over to offer you a taste?”
“No, no one has offered us tequila,” Grace says with a giggle.
“Well then, allow me to be the first.”
Three shot glasses appear in the palm of Lincoln’s hand. He had them concealed until Grace agreed to the shots. He’s pouring the amber contents, proving he’s poured a shot a time or too. He hands each of us a shot glass and cups his hands around his mouth, hooting for the crowd’s attention.
Macy and Grace are quick to down their shots, taking a lime from a small dish in the center of the table. I wondered why there was just a pile of limes sitting there.
“What’s this all about?” Lincoln asks me, pointing to my shot. “Not your thing?”
I narrow my eyes at him, trying to figure him out. He didn’t strike me as the shot slinging type earlier. He must notice my curiosity because he leans down and whispers in my ear. “Being the shot guy is good money,” he says.
“Well then,” I tell him. “I don’t want to make you look bad.” I take the shot glass and swig the contents down, squeezing my eyes shut in hopes of not gagging it back up. I grab a lime and place it between my teeth.
The taste sizzles and my stomach settles. The tequila is good.
Music grows from the makeshift stage I spotted earlier. I hadn’t noticed a band setting up, but the sound of cultural tunes fills the air. People stand from their tables as if the music was an invitation, and they’re dancing wherever there is space to dance.
Maybe the tequila is making me hallucinate.
I’m hoping the tequila is making me hallucinate when Lincoln takes my hand and pulls me from my chair. “Mind if I borrow her for a blink?” he asks Macy and Grace.
My two friends fail me when they tell Lincoln to take me wherever he intends to take me, which turns out to be no more than twenty feet away. His hand is around my waist, my body is pressed against his, and somehow, I’m dancing to a rhythm I didn’t know I was capable of dancing to.