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“So that’s Natalie?” I give him a questioning look.
“What?” He grabs for my waist again. “What’s that look for?”
“Seems like you guys have some serious stuff to discuss.” I hold up my hands in front of my chest, making him laugh.
“Come to dinner with me tonight.”
“I can’t.” I rest my hands against his chest. “I have a happy hour with some of my coworkers.”
He looks down at me, pausing. “Will Preston be there?”
“Yes, probably.” He releases me, stepping back. “Is that a problem?”
“Where are you going? Will you be out late?”
“O’Malley’s over on Racine and I don’t know. I guess it depends if I’m having a good time or not. Everything okay?”
His eyes darken and he rubs his hand against the scruff on his jaw like he’s contemplating what to say. He steps closer to me. “Have fun tonight.” He plants a brief kiss on my lips and walks out.
“Hey.” Preston’s voice snaps me out of my fog. “You’re coming tonight, right?” He’s leaning halfway through the door.
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be there.” I smile.
“Good.” He slaps the doorway, winking at me. “See you later.”
“See ya,” I call after him, turning my attention back to cleaning up my desk before heading home to change.
I pull my hair back into a high ponytail, slicking on some red gloss and adding a small black wing of eyeliner. My hips sway as I sing to Taylor Swift blaring over my phone speaker. Maybe it’s the way Weston Vaughn looks at me or maybe it’s knowing that a man like him wants me, but I’m feeling empowered tonight. I sort through my closet, finding a black fitted turtleneck dress with long sleeves. I pull it on, shimmying it over my hips before looking at myself in the mirror.
“Not too bad.” The dress is tight, hugging my curves and hitting me about mid-thigh. It’s definitely a lot different than my typical school dress. I’ve had it shoved in my closet for a while. I never had a reason to wear it because I never went out anywhere. Sometimes Xana and I have a glass of wine here or there, but I didn’t have coworkers who wanted to have happy hours and I was far too lost in my grief to join them even if they did.
I grab my thigh-high black suede boots to pull the outfit together. They’re flat so they bring an edgy, casual look to the outfit. I sling my purse over my arm and make my way to the train to head to the bar.
“You look like you got a tan.” Bridgette, the third-grade teacher, looks at my exposed thigh.
“Oh yeah, I went to the Bahamas recently.”
“Ugh.” She sips on her espresso martini. “I’m jealous. Last time I went on vacation was with my boyfriend and his parents to Lake Geneva in Wisconsin. Can you say boring?”
“Lake Geneva is beautiful though.” I smile, trying not to sound like I was bragging about the Bahamas.
“Did you say you were in the Bahamas?” Preston steps up behind me, standing between Bridgette and me, his hand resting on the back of my stool.
“Yeah, over Labor Day weekend.”
“Daaaamn, I was wondering why you didn’t show up to my beach party.” I give him a confused look. “Oh, I sent out an email.”
“Oh shoot, I must have missed it. I pretty much had my phone off the entire trip. Just wanted to disconnect, ya know?”
“Totally,” he says, looking over at Bridgette.
“Oh, um, I need to talk to Jeremy about something.” She grabs her martini and slips off her stool.
“So how are you liking teaching at Crestwood?” He takes a seat on the stool next to me, placing his beer on the bartop.
“I like it a lot. Not only are the teachers amazing, but the administration is so communicative and open to feedback. My favorite part is my students though.”
“Of course. I feel like my fourth graders are a riot; they always have me laughing.”
