Meredith stands up and adjusts her dress, pulling it down to further reveal her petite but perky breasts.
“Well, looks like someone is ready for her challenge!” Callie laughs.
“Challenge? I think not. Who’s the lucky guy going to be?” She turns around and waves her pointed finger toward the bar, eyeing the patrons.
“Give us a minute.” We all lean in to discuss.
“Oh, what about that guy?” Callie points to a large, balding man and tries to control her laughter.
“No, way too easy! Let’s make this a challenge,” I yell.
“Oh, how about him?” Emma motions toward a super cute man with dark hair who appears to be in his late twenties.
“Why him? He’s cute and all, but we don’t need drunk Meredith getting overly handsy and flirty with someone during her bachelorette party. If she does anything stupid, she’ll never forgive us!” I respond.
“Trust me, nothing will happen with them,” Emma retorts.
“How can you be so sure?” Callie asks.
“Because his girlfriend just went to the bathroom. We’ve probably got five minutes, tops!” We all shriek excitedly about the setup.
“Ladies, I’m waiting!” Meredith stares back at us, arms crossed and tapping her foot.
“Ok, decision made. Your challenge is to get the guy with the dark hair to buy you a drink.” Emma announces.
“The hottie in the plaid blazer?”
“Yes.”
“Done and done. And by done, I mean watch how it’s done.” Meredith flips her hair over her shoulder as she walks away seductively toward her victim. She parades up to the bar and takes a seat next to him. From our table we can’t hear their conversation, but based on their body language she’s having some success. She tosses her hair a few more times then reaches out and playfully pushes him.
“What the hell is he doing? Is he seriously hitting on her? His girlfriend is in the bathroom. What a sleeze!”
“Actually, how do we know it was his girlfriend? Maybe it was his sister or cousin or something,” Callie explains.
“Shit, you’re right! Of course I would pick the one seemingly taken guy who will still fall for flirty Mere.” Emma laughs back at us.
“Oh, he bought her a drink!” Meredith turns and waves back at us as she takes a sip from the martini glass that just appeared in her hand.
“Oh, time to see if it’s his sister. Here she comes!” Emma says excitedly.
“Where?”
“Black dress. At 9 o’clock.” Emma mutters the words as a tall brunette in a dark dress passes by our table. We look back at Meredith and she motions toward us again a few times, and then leans over and plants a kiss on his cheek just as the girl approaches.
We all watch anxiously, as the presumed girlfriend becomes overly animated. Hilarity ensues, her arms start flailing, and it’s clear that this guy definitely is her boyfriend.
Meredith glares toward us, mouth open, unsure of what to do. She stands and starts slowly backing away from the angry girl. Before she can slip away, the girlfriend grabs Meredith’s drink from her hand and throws it in the face of the man, who we now definitively presume is her boyfriend.
We all turn to each other. “Oh, shit!”
“Ok, time to go. Everyone is staring at them, and now us!” I exclaim, as Meredith makes her way back to the table.
“You bitches!” she yells out, practically sprinting toward us.
“And I think that’s our cue. Check, please!”
***
We meander from the restaurant through the frigid but bustling streets, still rolling with laughter from the scene we just created. The bouncer stands just inside the door of the Standard Hotel, filtering people through the line to get in. Callie, wearing a black sequin skirt and shimmery white silk blouse, files in first, followed by Meredith in her long sleeve navy blue dress, scooped low to show off her tiny back. “Girls!” Callie shouts. “The VIP line is right there.” She points to a much smaller line of fashionably dressed, beautiful women. Emma files into the velvet-roped line in her tight-fitting maroon dress, which sits just off her toned shoulders. I follow behind, wearing a sparkly, long sleeve, gold and black dress, with black tights and heels.
We get our hands stamped with seemingly invisible ink that can only be seen with a black light. Apparently that’s what fancy clubs do these days to keep their clientele’s hands unblemished. We then make our way up in the elevator to the top floor club. Our first stop is the overcrowded bar. I take a quick inventory of the room. The large, open space has small tables surrounding the perimeter walls, leaving narrow gaps between them only for accessing the exterior doors. Outside is a rooftop terrace containing only a few club-goers looking to cool off or vape in the brisk air.
The bar sits close to the front entrance of the club, and on the opposite side of the space is a DJ booth blasting the room with the latest dance music. Large speakers standing hip height vibrate the music furiously. A handful of larger lounge areas occupy the middle of the room, filled by slick, young New York men looking to blow their latest paycheck on the insanely priced bottles of liquor. Scantily clad girls lounge across their sofas chatting, drinking, and moving to the music, while the real partiers dance on the table tops, sloshing their drinks on their thousand-dollar mini dresses as they move.
“Ok these prices are insane!” I shout above the crowd, as I split the bill for our bottle of champagne.
“Meredith, go parade around in your bachelorette sash and get us invited to a table! It’s time for booze scavenging,” Callie instructs, only semi-jokingly.
“Ok! Come with!” Meredith grabs my hand and leads me around the room to further scope out the tables. We stop midway through the room, trying to squeeze through the crowds.
“Hey, ladies, looking good tonight!” a young, cute guy shouts to us over the music. He’s wearing a light gray pinstripe suit in a super modern cut, with a tight black T-shirt beneath. He has light brown hair, combed and slicked back; the standard uniform of a New York City banker.
“Hi! Thanks! What’s your name?” Meredith dives into conversation and inches closer to him. They begin chatting and one of slick’s friends comes up to approach me.
“Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure, that would be great!” Free booze? Yes, please! Now we’re talking. I chat for a few minutes with Rocky, a tall, slim, dark-haired lawyer, who is polite enough to invite us to sit at their table.
***
I check my phone while I wait in the lengthy line for the ladies room. It’s 1:17 am, and I’m completely, ridiculously, disgustingly drunk. We’ve all spent the past two hours flirting with Rocky and his friends, drinking their booze, and literally dancing the night away. The thought of Jack suddenly pops into my head, and I do a quick scan for any sign of communication from him. I have exactly 0 texts, emails, and missed calls from him. My frustration grows with Jack. He has courted me for nearly two months and I’ve given him amazing sex, way sooner than I ever gave it up for Will. And he thinks it’s ok to go out of town like this and just not even contact me? What a complete ass. I try to push Jack from my mind, determined not to let his behavior ruin my night. Max quickly enters my thoughts, and I remember I have his phone number. I should text him! In my unfiltered drunken state, I immediately decide this is a good idea.
Hi it’s Jess
I begin to type, then remember his name for me.
Hi it’s Jessa. Thanks again for the ride today! What are you up to tonight?
I hit send right away before I can change my mind, completely oblivious of my poor judgment.
After my pit stop, I wander back into the main part of the club. I walk back to the table and quickly check my phone. No text messages. A frown begins to settle on my face. “Jess, what’s wrong? You ok?” Callie questions me. “Yeah, I just need another drink!” I wipe the disappointment away and fill my glass up with more champagne. “Hey, get up here!” Emma shouts down to us. She reaches o
ut her arm and I grab her hand and join her on the table. After all, you only live once! Feeling brazen, I pull Rocky up on the table with me. He pulls me in tightly and I sway back and forth against him. “You’re a good dancer, Jess,” he shouts into my ear.
“Thanks! You’re not so bad yourself. Do you guys come here a lot?”
“Lately, yeah, we’re probably here most Friday nights. On Saturdays we usually go to Ware.”
“Oh really, where’s that?”
“It’s over on 42nd Street, right off of Madison. They have this huge space, and it’s a crazy good time. Just lots of people that know how to party hard!”
“That sounds fun!”
“You girls should join us at Ware tomorrow night. It’d be a good time.”
“Yeah, I’ll definitely mention it to them! Although I don’t know if we can just let you guys monopolize our time this weekend. It wouldn’t be fair to all of the other guys in New York. They don’t get to spend time with fabulous southern girls like us every day!”
Rocky laughs. “This is true, but you should know you won’t have this much fun with anyone else.”
“Oh is that so?” I flirt back. “You seem pretty confident of that fact!”
“Oh, I am.” Rocky leans in closer to me, and I return his big smile with one of my own. He leans in to plant his lips on mine, but I quickly flash to Jack and force his lips to land on my cheek, avoiding one drunken mistake.
fifteen
“Jess, get up! We need to leave for brunch soon. Get your disheveled ass in the shower, now!” Emma yells at me and plops down on the bed next to me wrapped in a bath towel. I open my eyes just enough to glare at her.
“I’ll get up when you make the room stop spinning.” I grab a pillow and bury my face beneath it.
“You just need another drink and you’ll be fine. Best hangover cure ever!”
“No, can’t do it. Just leave me here in my misery,” I grumble from beneath the pillow.
“Not happening. Get your ass up! Look, it’s already 11:45.” She grabs my phone and tosses it at my head.
“Ugh, seriously?” I lift the pillow and click on my phone to check the time myself. The screen shows the time is 11:46, and the icon on the bottom tells me that I have five new texts. I blearily begin to scan them. Oh shit. I snap from semi-awake to fully sober when I realize that four of them are from Mr. Lust, and the faint memory of drunk texting him fills my mind. I quickly shut off the screen, fearful of what I may have said to him. “Hey, get me some water, please?” I say to Emma.
“Fine. But you better get your ass in the shower after that. You look like hell.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just water me, biotch.” I flip my phone back on and my heart starts racing again. Should I read it? Or just delete his messages and pretend it never happened? I debate momentarily and decide I have to know what he, and even I, said.
I scan through them quickly while my heart beats faster.
8:07 am I was already asleep.
8:15 am Where did you go last night?
9:58 am Jessica, please let me know that you got home ok.
11:42 am Are you ok? Please let me know that you got home last night. You have me worried.
Ok, not as bad as I expected. I let out a small sigh of relief, and a smile appears on my lips. He was worried about me! Wait, what about Jack? I quickly check my other texts and see nothing from him.
“What’s got you all smiley?” Emma questions me.
“Oh, nothing. I should get in the shower.” I toss my phone down.
“So you’re just magically cured?”
“Something like that.” I smirk back at her and turn off my phone.
“What, is Jack sending you dirty texts this morning?”
“Emma, no!” I retort, again wincing that I haven’t heard from him.
“Hmm, Rocky then? He must be ready for some more lip action.”
“What? I didn’t kiss him last night…did I?” I rack my foggy brain, and have a faint memory of his lips nearing mine.
Emma practically snorts. “Well he certainly tried! You’re such a tease. Using him for free drinks all night and then holding out on him.”
“Whatever. Somebody’s gotta pay the bills! And better him than us!” I laugh, forcing myself out of the bed. I know I wasn’t cheating on Jack, but guilt still settles over me, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate my hours of flirting and dance grinding on a stranger, or my texting his lustalicious pseudo boss.
My restorative shower serves to remove all signs of the previous evening’s partying, and cleanses my soul. I decide to be the bigger person and text Jack. What do I have to lose?
Hi! How’s skiing? Miss you.
I send my vulnerable thoughts out into the world and quickly see that he’s typing a response.
Miss you, baby. About to hit the slopes, call you this afternoon? Xo.
I smile at his response, feeling for the moment that things are back in order for us. Although why did it take him two days to send me a message? I can’t quite get the sinking feeling out of my brain.
***
The four of us pile into an Uber SUV and head toward Ware, the final stop of our Saturday evening bachelorette fun. I may have had a teensy bit too much champagne from our last bottle, so I sit quietly trying to focus while the other girls sing loudly to Britney’s new song blasting through the radio. I can’t get Jack and Max out of my mind. Jack is quickly transitioning from my boyfriend to becoming Mr. JackAss. He said he would call me earlier this afternoon, but nothing. Is it really that hard to take five minutes to call your girlfriend and say hi? Fuck it. I pick up my phone and dial Jack, feeling a bit feisty at his overly tardy communication. His phone rings and rings, finally yielding his voicemail. I slap his name again, fuming as I try dialing him again. Five rings and nothing. I hastily hang up and try one final time, this time prepared to leave a semi-hateful voicemail. I clear my throat, expecting to leave a message after the fourth ring.
“Hello?” I hear a voice on the other end.
“Hey, turn that down for a sec,” I yell at Callie, unsure of who’s answered.
“Hello? Jack?”
“Hi, this is Jack’s phone, but he’s currently unavailable,” I hear a female purr in a mock phone sex operator voice. What the fuck? “May I ask who’s calling?” My mouth gapes open trying to figure out what the hell is happening here.
“Hey, give me my phone!” I hear Jack’s muffled voice in the background.
“You have to catch me first,” the female shrieks, and I hear laughter ensue from the female and my boyfriend Jack.
“Lela, give me my phone.”
“Only if you ask nicely.”
“Ok, Leland, please give me my phone.”
“No, you’re not ignoring me for another work call! You have to earn your phone. Give me a kiss first.” What? I nearly die at these words. Am I really hearing their giggle-filled charade right now? This can’t be happening. My heart starts aching while my mind processes what I’ve heard.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Give me my phone.” I listen, holding my breath, needing to hear what happens next while fighting the will to scream through the phone.
“Just on the cheek. Come on, Jackie, you’re no fun.” Jackie? She calls him Jackie?
“You’re such a pain in my ass,” he laughs. “There. Happy now?”
“For now,” she teases. I hear a muffled exchange as the phone changes hands. Oh God. My brain floods with disgust and pain as I piece this together.
“Hello?” I hear Jack’s voice ring through the phone this time. “Hello?” I stay silent for a few seconds, gasping for breath and sucked dry of words.
“Seriously? Fuck you, Jackie. I’m done!” I simultaneously disconnect our call and throw my phone across the Uber.
“Jess? What happened?” Meredith questions me while the girls exchange a look.
“Well, I guess Jack is spending his ski trip making out with his ex-girlfriend Lela.”
“Are yo
u sure? That doesn’t make any sense,” Meredith says, concern on her face.
“Yeah, and didn’t he just buy you those amazing earrings? I mean you guys were just in Paris together,” Emma chimes in.
“Could it just be a misunderstanding?” Callie questions.
“I really don’t think so.” I pause, caught between the verge of tears and screaming.
“I’m so sorry,” Meredith says as she gives me a quick squeeze, and I fight the urge to let a tear leak from my eye. He’s not deserving of my tears. He’s just another asshole shitbag. I knew it was too good to be true. I knew it couldn’t be that simple. That great of a relationship, that quickly. I feel my world start to cave in around me when I remember all of the hope I had for us. A real future. And now it’s nothing.
“Really, I’m fine!” I lie. “This is your weekend to live it up because you’ve found the perfect man. So we’re going to celebrate that, not pity me!”
“Jess, he didn’t deserve you anyway. You’re such a great catch. I know millions of guys who would line up for the chance to date you!” I respond to Callie’s compliment with a weak smile.
“See, they’re lining up already!” Emma hands me my phone, and I see a new text from Rocky on the screen, hoping to meet up with us at Ware.
sixteen
Ware is undoubtedly the coolest club I’ve ever been to. The former warehouse was converted into an event space, and is now a full-time club. Three long hallways, maybe fifty feet wide, extend the length of the building, each one only lit by the random pattern of flashing strobe lights above.
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