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"Rare? You like it bloody, huh?"
"I guess I do," I agree.
"Anything else before I put in your orders?"
"No, this is good. Thank you." He nods and walks away. A man in the corner starts playing the guitar and singing and we both glance over at him.
"This is a nice place," Skye says. "Thank you for bringing me here."
"I figured it's not as good as Paris, but maybe almost as good."
"Yeah.” She gives me a small little smile and nods.
"Hey." I reach over and grab her hand. "You're not responsible for your best friend's choices. If she decides she's going to do drugs and have crazy sex with this guy tonight, that's on her. You cannot take on any guilt for that."
"I just feel bad. I've been living with her for free and I know she's been bored and lonely and I know she's wanted to do more stuff and I just haven't had time. I've been working so much. And now this thing with us…" She raises her hands in the air, clearly frustrated with the situation. "Maybe if I would've just told you no and tried to make plans with her, none of this would've happened."
"You really believe that?" I ask her softly.
She sighs. "No, I guess I'm just hurt."
"Why are you hurt?"
"Because she told me that this is not the first time that she's done drugs. I thought she and I…well, I thought we both had never done drugs, but she's done lots of drugs before and she said there's a lot of stuff I don't know. And I just feel like if I'm her best friend, why didn't she trust me enough to tell me?"
I stare at her for a couple of moments before slowly nodding in understanding. "I understand what it is to be hurt by secrets. I understand what it is to be hurt by knowledge of the fact that the people closest to you haven't told you everything that you hope they would have. She didn't tell you because she didn't want you to treat her differently."
"But I wouldn't look at her differently. I would never judge her."
"I know, but maybe she wanted you to feel like she was this ideal of a person that you had in your head, kind of like me."
"What are you talking about?"
"You didn't respect me as your boss because you thought I was grumpy and annoying, which is kind of cute in its own way, but once you realized the sort of cases that the firm takes, I can tell that your opinion of me has changed." I can hear the sadness in my voice because it's true. "You think I'm all about the money. You think that?—"
"No, I don't," she says, shaking her head and leaning forward. "I know I reacted poorly and I know that I've been judgmental. And you're right. I don't know that I would take those cases as a lawyer, but I'm not a lawyer. And I guess you don't get to cherry-pick your clients. And I guess it's like people who are public defense attorneys or prosecutors. Sometimes prosecutors prosecute the wrong people and sometimes defense attorneys get guilty people off the hook, but it's the job. You can only do your job to the best of your ability. I do understand that. I mean, ethically, it would make me feel like shit. But I guess when you go to law school, there's no class on moral compass."
I smile at her. "I don't want you to think that I only care about money. Also, I did take a professional responsibility class."
"What else do you care about in life? Everything that you're working for is in regards to money, right?"
I stare at her for a couple of seconds, the harsh truth settling into my brain at her words, "I guess, yes. Technically, I work for money. We all do."
"You could take on worthy cases and really help people in need, you just wouldn't make as much money. Right?" She shrugs and I nod.
"That's true."
"So, at the end of the day, it's all about money. I'm not judging you. I work for you, right? Sure, I also dance at bachelor parties. It's not like I'm super proud of that, but I do it for the money. I mean, I wouldn't give lap dances or pick up hundred dollar bills from men's faces, but we all have a line of what we're willing to go up to. I guess our lines are just different."
"I don't want you to judge me for that though. I don't want you to think I'm a bad person."
"Why not?" she says. "Why do you care what I think?"
"I just care. You're my employee with benefits. I want you to think that I'm a good guy."
She smiles at me. "I don't know you super well. I know you kind of well, because you've been inside of me and I had your penis in my mouth, but…" She pauses and blushes. "I don't know you like your family, or your long-term friends, or even your partners at the law firm, but what I do know is that you're caring."
"Really? You think that?"
