Page 5 of A Legacy of the Light

Later that evening, I clear my dishes away after my quick microwave dinner, and catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror over the breakfast bar.

Fuck.

Rach has her work cut out for her tonight—I’m a mess.

I move into the kitchen on the hunt for something stronger than water to sort my sour mood before Rach arrives.

“There you are,” I whisper to the pink gin on top of the fridge. I pour myself a generous measure and settle on the bar stool to take a deep gulp.

Maybe I could try and enjoy tonight, let go and have a good time. It is my birthday, after all.

I’m starting to annoy myself with the mood I’ve been in for the last year and a half, and I’m not surprised my other friends have stopped inviting me to places. I miss the old me, the one full of life and wit and the first to say yes.

While settling on my mantra for the evening—I will have a good time tonight—mydoorbell chimes.

I answer it to a very excited Rach. She bears a bottle of Prosecco in one hand and a beautiful red dress with a daring plunging neckline in the other. She’s going to look stunning in that.

“Who's ready to have some funnnn!” she squeals, pulling me into a hug before shuffling past me into the living room. I can’t fault her enthusiasm.

“Yay,” I reply, trying not to sound ungrateful or sarcastic. It clearly doesn’t land, judging from the look on Rach’s face.

So much for my pep talk.

“Bedroom. Now. We need to glam you up for this dress!” she says.

“Wait—that dress is for me?” I ask, stunned. I would never pick that for myself and she knows it. My style is comfort over all else.

“Yes, it is, bitch. Now get in there so I can make your gorgeous self look even more gorgeous.”

After what feels like hours of preening, we are in our local bar. Rach pleaded with me to wear the red dress, and then insisted I pair it with a pair of sky-high black stilettos, and even I have to admit that I look good.

My hair is styled in soft curls that hang to the middle of my back and Rach has worked magic on my face.

She looks sleek and elegant in a black mini-dress and a smooth high ponytail. She turns every head when we walk in and I don’t blame anyone for staring; even I fancy her a little bit tonight.

Shit, maybe the gin and the Prosecco we drank in my apartment has gone to my head already. I need to pace myself.

We sit across from one another in our booth, chatting about our week, bopping along to the music, and drinking our cocktails.

I’m starting to relax a little, grateful for the beautiful woman I have the privilege of calling my best friend. I’m reluctantly glad she made me do this.

“Elsie, are you going to end your dry spell tonight?” Rach teases, taking a sip of her pornstar martini.

I nearly choke on mine. “I haven’t done it on purpose, Rach. In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been miserable as shit for the last eighteen months. It doesn’t exactly say take me to bed, does it?”

Rach laughs. “I know, babe, but someone throwing you around the bedroom might just help you, and your vibrator needs a break.”

I laugh hard.

“I always feel better after a night with a hot guy,” she continues.

I can see the edge of concern behind her teasing. She isn’t wrong; it has been a while, but I just haven’t been interested in anyone that way.

“Besides, you can’t waste my mastery on your face. You look unbelievable, girl, and those guys have been eye-fucking us since we walked in.” She tilts her head in the direction of two guys at the bar, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively at me.

“Well, I suppose they’re not unfortunate to look at,” I answer, checking them out. One of them raises his glass at me and I give him a small smile before turning back to Rach.

“Oh, definitely not,” Rach replies. She looks over at them again, flashing her dazzling smile.