Callie pretty much knew it was hopeless to argue any further, so she did as Chantara asked. She had a long hot shower, shampooed her hair, twice, let the conditioner sit in, then rinsed. She stood under the hot spray, mostly just because it felt good. She hadn’t been clean and wrinkly for ages.
After she was sure she had just about exhausted their hot water tank, Callie switched off the shower and climbed out. She didn’t really want to blow dry her hair since it took forever, but she didn’t want to go out with it wet either.
Surprisingly, when it was blown out, her teeth brushed and her mascara and lip balm on, she did feel a bit better.
Chantara was waiting for her in the hall. “Here.” She held up a dress. It was one of hers, one of her favorites. It was a little too tight in the bust, but it was cute. It had little beaded fringes on the bottom. Callie remembered the day her best friend bought it. It was definitely a splurge after Callie got her first real job after college. The same job she was working now. The same job Callie wasn’t. “Put this on.”
“But that’s your dress,” Callie protested. She didn’t want to think about work and she certainly didn’t want to think about Matt and the dress reminded her of both in a shitty indirect way. What doesn’t, lately? Just put the damn thing on.
“I want you to wear it tonight. Come on. Drop that towel and get into it.”
Callie snatched the dress and disappeared into the still steamy, too hot bathroom. She emerged a few minutes later and Chantara clapped triumphantly. Her face broke into a huge smile.
“There. You look amazing. How do you feel? Better? Was I right?”
Callie had to grudgingly mutter something about Chantara being right after all, which caused a volley of cheers to erupt in the hall.
“Okay! Let’s go.” Chantara grabbed up her purse and took Callie by the hand. She managed to shrug out of her friend’s vice-like grip at the door so she could put on her shoes.
They walked down to the pub together and Callie had to admit, by the time they got there, she was feeling better. She wasn’t trapped in the stuffy apartment, hoping that she could find another job before what money she had in her account was eaten up by rent and bills.
Chantara led the way over to a small table in the corner. Callie had only been to the place a few times before. The place had good draft beer, even though the music was corny and a little annoying. The servers walked around as always, in their little skirts and too tight black tops that showed off their midriffs. She’d remembered correctly. Definitely not culturally correct attire, whatever period of history they were going for.
There were huge TVs around the place, turned to this or that soccer game or rugby. She wasn’t actually sure which. Must be rugby, because the guys were carrying the ball. That wasn’t allowed in soccer, was it? The bar itself was off to the side, a huge wood monstrosity with bar stools lined up in front, like every other bar. The tables were old and scarred, but they were well built and were actual, dark stained wood.
Callie pulled herself into one of the high bar stools and braced her feet on the run at the bottom. She was glad she’d worn flats. The kind of chairs where your feet didn’t touch the floor were horrible with heels. She faced Chantara, who gave her a strangely triumphant smile.
One of the serving girls, a cheerful, tall, pretty blonde who looked to be just old enough to be of legal age to even work in a pub, came round. She smiled at them and the smile was genuine. Which also meant that she probably hadn’t been working in the pub long enough to be jaded by the clientele. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, working in a pub instead of a bar.
“Hello ladies. My name’s Anna and I’ll be your server tonight. I’m happy to inform you that your first round of drinks is paid for. That said, what can I get you? The blonde beer we have on tap, the one on the little card there in the middle of the table, is excellent.”
“Uh, what? I’m sorry, could you tell me- uh- why are our drinks paid for?” Callie stammered. She was so confused and was trying not to make it obvious but failing miserably.
“Oh. That guy in the corner there paid for them.”
Callie turned to see where Anna was pointing. And nearly fell off the barstool.
CHAPTER 19
Matt
“No! No, Chantara, let’s go.” Callie tried frantically to convince her best friend to make a quick getaway as soon as she spotted Matt.