Chapter 4
It was now Friday again. She’d waited a full week. She needed a new plan. She needed to clear her head. She needed to figure out an angle. How could she get Ryan Wilder to be her friend?
As usual, Ryan greeted her with a polite smile and poured her a glass before moving along down the counter. An hour later, they were still doing the same dance. Ryan poured, Sophie sipped. Ryan stopped in front of a woman at the other end of the bar. Her body tensed, her entire demeanor stiffened. She knew the woman somehow and she wasn’t pleased to see her. Sophie sipped her whiskey and kept her focus on Ryan.
She watched the short brunette woman lean across the bar and grab Ryan’s hand. The bartender yanked her hand back and shook her head. She couldn’t quite make out the conversation. But the way Ryan pulls another bartender aside before disappearing past the bathrooms toward the offices, tells her all she needs to know.
Sophie bites the inside of her lips. She twirls the glass in her hand and watches the woman across the bar hop down from her stool and wander toward the bathrooms. Sophie finishes her drink and stands. She sways slightly as she steels herself. She lost count of how many whiskeys she’s had.
She sees the brunette blocking Ryan’s path to return to the bar. “Move, Ang. I’m working. I don’t have time for this.”
“Ry, you won’t return my calls. You won’t give me the time of day. We need to talk.”
Sophie stepped forward and shoved the woman, stepping between them. She couldn’t see Ryan’s shock because she was too focused on the woman. “I believe she said move.”
The much shorter woman looked up at her and then whipped back toward Ryan. “This your new girlfriend? This is why you won’t let call me back?”
“Actually, we just met. But when someone asks you to move, you move.” Sophie took a step closer into the woman’s space. A challenge. She didn’t know where this flare of anger came from but the whiskey was fueling it further.
The woman huffed and blew out a humorless laugh. “Whatever, don’t come crying back to me when Miss America here fucks you over.” She turned on her heels and stormed down the hallway and toward the exit.
“I could have handled that on my own you know.”
“Of course. I was just on my way to the bathroom and figured I’d help.” She lied. “What are friends for?”
“Friends?” Skepticism laced in her tone. “Do you even know how to be just friends?”
“Despite your mostly accurate assessment of me, I’m a great friend.”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?” She raised an eyebrow. Sophie held her gaze, “I’m good on friends, thanks but no thanks,” unconvincingly.
She almost cracked a smirk. “Got it.” A sly beat, “I’ll take another when you’re done.”