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“Really? What happened?”
Holly proceeds to tell me a story of a bachelorette party with a bridezilla to rival all others.
“Then, when I told her I had to cut her off—and this is after four tequila shots and three Long Island iced teas, I remind you—she literally jumped up on the bar to get at me!”
“No!”
“Yes! And, the whole time, she was yelling about how I was ruining her special day.”
I’m too shocked to laugh, but Holly punctuates the story with her sweet chuckles.
“Did she reach you?”
“No. Terra saw what was happening, so she was already on the other side of the bar, ready to call for security. When this lady started climbing, Terra grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off. You do not want to mess with Terra. She held her until Jimmy, our security guy, came to carry her out.”
“That’s insane.” Knowing that Holly got out okay, I give in to the urge to laugh along with her.
“Well, that’s what I get, working in a bar.”
“Do you like it there? When you’re not getting attacked by drunken bachelorettes?”
That earns me another chuckle, but then her tone turns thoughtful.
“Yeah, I do. For now. The pay is good, and the people are nice. Curt—he owns the bar—lets me help him with the books at the end of the night, so I can get an idea of what running a business is actually like. Honestly, I think that’s been more helpful than half of my classes.”
“So, that’s what you want to do? Own a bar?”
“Not a bar. But, yeah, I definitely want to own a business one day. I haven’t figured out what yet, but I don’t think I want anything to do with food service. The hours are just too crazy.”
“I could see you running a business.”
“Really? You’ve known me for only a few weeks.”
“Yeah. But you have that kind of presence. People listen to you.”
“Most people say I’m bossy.” Her voice betrays her dislike of that description, and I make a note never to call her that.
“I’d call you confident and commanding. But those are good things.” I really can’t think of any bad things about Holly.
“You’re sweet, Ben. I—”
My breath stops, on pause until I hear her speak again.
“Sorry. I just realized my stop is next. I should go.”
My good mood dims, but I keep the disappointment out of my response. “No problem.” And, because I’m fucking stuck on her, I tack on what I hope sounds like a casual thought. “The offer about my car still stands. If you don’t want to take the bus next time.”
“Noted. Night, Ben.”
“Good night, Holly.”
She cuts the call off on her end first. I lay the phone on the armrest and stare at the TV screen, not really watching. Instead, I replay our conversation, remembering how her laugh sounded and the warmth her voice brought to my chest.
How is it that Holly can take my mind off a shitty situation like no one else can?
The second half of my treatment is almost over, and I didn’t even notice being hooked up once her voice was in my ear.
This is bad.
