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I look to Christina, who has no problem talking to anyone or anybody, hoping she will reply so I don’t have to, but she actually stays silent this time.
“We’re doing fine, thanks,” I say, forcing a smile.
“I’m Paul,” he says, offering me, then Christina, his hand.
“Bree,” I say, giving him nothing else.
“I’m Christina,” my friend says, shaking her head and studying him. “Nice to meet you, Paul.”
“Pleasure is all mine,” he says, flashing his teeth. “Can I get either of you a drink?”
“No, thank you,” I quickly say, knowing Christina has no problem with free drinks, but I, on the other hand, do, and I don’t want him to think that I’m interested in any way.
“So what do the two of you do? I’ve seen you around town before,” he says, looking between us. He’s probably asking this so he gets the chance to talk about himself and brag about the businesses he owns.
“I’m a student and work in a café,” Christina says, finishing her drink off. “Nothing too interesting. Bree works with me.”
“Right,” he says, nodding. “I own a few businesses around here, so if you’re ever looking for a job….”
Bingo.
“Cool,” Christina says, dragging out the word. “Well, we’re going to head to the bar. It was nice meeting you though.”
She stands and nods to the bar. I follow her. Paul scrambles back to his own table, where his two friends are waiting for him.
“More vodka?” she asks, pulling out her purse.
“All the vodka.”
“Shame. He’s actually decent looking,” she murmurs, pursing her lips.
He is, even I’ll admit that. If I didn’t know anything about him, I’d think he was good-looking and maybe even charming. However, one of the girls who works for him in the supermarket comes in for coffee every day, and the poor thing looks miserable. I like to treat people how they treat me, but in this case, even if he’s nothing but super nice to me, I don’t think I can respect a man who is awful to his own employees, taking advantage of his position of power. Sharon told me that he pretty much works them into the ground with nothing but a crappy wage and a terrible environment in return.
“With a side of sleaze,” I add, puffing out a breath.
Christina throws her head back and laughs. “You totally nailed it there. He’s totally a sleaze. Has that slimy vibe to him.”
“Yep.”
“It’s a tough life being a babe,” she adds, grinning, then orders us two more drinks.
“One guy approaches us, one who would probably approach anything with tits and ass, and it’s a tough life?” I ask her, laughing.
She nods to behind me. “Who said it was just one guy?”
Two men come over and introduce themselves. Christina humours them, answering their questions, while I stay quiet, only speaking when spoken to directly. I smile when I can, so I don’t seem so rude, but truly I’d rather do anything than make small talk with these men.
I have to wonder, is dating this awful outside of small towns?
