When Friday rolled around, work was unusually quiet. This did nothing to help calm my nerves about what was to come in roughly 12 hours.
I had plans to meet Dylan for drinks that night after his work dinner, but the thought of also potentially seeing Nick plagued me with equal parts dread and nervous anticipation. How was it that I continued to find myself in a weird ping-pong between Dylan and Nick, even when I haven't been able to call either of them mine in so many months.
After Ash had told me on Wednesday that Nick was coming, I'd laid in bed contemplating if I should text him or not. Emboldened by the wine I had drank, I opened up a text to him. The last words were the "I miss you" text I had sent so many days ago, that still remained unanswered. Not wanting to risk being ignored again, I closed out of the message and had gone to sleep.
As the work day dragged on, I busied myself putting together a new paid social plan for our upcoming home decor launch. At the very least, I would get brownie points with my boss for getting a jumpstart on something that wasn't due for a few weeks.
When the clock miraculously showed 5:30 p.m., I packed up my things eager to get to drybar before my 6:00 appointment. I waved goodbye to Emma and hustled out, trying not to feel guilty for leaving so early when most of my team was still typing away on their Macs.
The air was still relatively warm for October, so I walked the mile to the salon. After showing my stylist photos of the look I was after (soft waves, nothing trying too hard - I didn't want Dylan noticing I had put in that much effort), I relaxed into the heavenly head massage that accompanied the shampoo job.
When I got home, glossy-haired and carrying takeout sushi for me and Ash to split, I was disappointed to see the apartment still dark. I glanced at the clock on my phone - it was past 7:30, where was she? I shot her a quick text and put the sushi in the fridge.
Where are you? I brought your favorite sushi home to bribe you to talk me down when I inevitably have a panic attack later before seeing Dylan.
Her reply came instantly after.
Sorry! Out with a few people, might not be back until later. Good luck though! xo
Her vague reference to "a few people" alerted me to the fact that she was almost certainly with Nick. Ignoring the hammering in my chest at the thought of him potentially just a few blocks away, I sat down to enjoy the salmon and avocado roll, sweet potato roll and edamame solo.
After dinner, I spent the next hour getting ready so that I'd be able to leave as soon as Dylan wrapped up dinner. I wrestled with my closet, settling on a black sleeveless bodysuit, jeans and heels. I layered on a few gold necklaces, and left my recently-done hair long and loose. To pass the time, I poured myself a glass of wine and decided to text Ash for a few more details. Sitting at home alone was doing nothing good for my anxiety.
So, does "a few people" include Nick? I'm bored waiting for Dylan to finish dinner.
I felt a little desperate texting my own best friend asking to be invited, but she quickly responded.
It does... he asked where you were, I said work. I figured you wouldn't want to see him, but if you are up for it, come meet us! We're at Up & Up!
I sat on the idea for the second half of my glass of wine. Did I really want to subject myself to two exes in one night? As much as the more self-destructive half of me wanted to see Nick, hug him, know he was still the Nick I knew and loved - instead of the one the country did - I knew it was a bad move.
I think i'll keep my self-destructive behaviors to a minimum tonight, but thank you. Have fun!
I place my phone back down on the kitchen counter with a sigh. After twenty more minutes of Instagram scrolling, pacing, and fixing my already fine makeup, my phone finally lit up with a text from Dylan.
Hey you, dinner is winding down. We're actually near your place, let me know where you want to meet.
Is it wrong that my first thought was to invite him over? I nearly began typing it, but deleted the offer knowing exactly where it would lead.
Ok, meet me at Hudson Hound in 20?
I scrambled back into my room to grab a jacket and one last coat of lip stain. Grabbing my newest splurge, a Gucci shoulder bag that was a month's rent (I reasoned it would last me for years and years), I stepped out into the cooling night air.
As I approached the bar, my hands were shaking - a telltale sign that Dylan was nearby. I swung open the door and spotted him instantly. He was still in work clothes, his shirt unbuttoned slightly and his hair less perfect than it had been that morning. He looked like if Noah Centieno had decided corporate America was more his thing than acting. Just then, his gaze moved from his phone to the door, and he broke out into the most melt-your-knees smile. He enveloped me in a hug, kissing the top of my head.
"Hey you."
"Hi," I replied weakly with a small smile. The chemistry was still there, even in such a short exchange.
We settled into stools next to each other at the bar and ordered our drinks. I swiveled to face him, my knees knocking clumsily into his.
"How was your work dinner?" I asked, taking an appreciative sip of my vodka tonic.
"The usual, schmoozing clients, boss showing off by ordering the most expensive bottle of wine on the menu, lots of small talk."
"Sounds riveting," I said with a smile.
"Oh yes, but it was worth sitting through to see you," he said. Wow, we're just really putting it all out there, aren't we?
I wasn't sure what to say back, so I smiled and took a sip of my drink. The next hour passed with us catching up on everything - mutual friends, work, and his recent vacation to Montana.
"I have always wanted to go there and stay on a dude ranch," I said wistfully.
"Well, lucky for you I am now basically a Montananian so I can show you around." he winked.
"That's literally not even a word," I said with a laugh.
We ordered another round, and as I was mentally weighing whether or not I wanted to invite him home with me, the sound of my phone ringing cut through my thoughts.
"Sorry," I said, reaching into my bag to stop the noise. I noticed it was Ashley and gave Dylan an apologetic look.
"Hey," I said into the iPhone.
"Heyyyy," Ashley's voice came, clearly laced with alcohol. "Listen we're kind of bar hopping so I wanted to see where you are so we can avoid." Awkward.
"Uh, okay, we're at Hudson Hound," I replied, giving Dylan a small smile.
"Okay! Be good! Bye!" she said, and the line went dead.
"Sorry," I said again to Dylan. "Ashley is a little drunk."
He laughed "Some things never change. Is she coming here?"
"No, I think she's bar hopping and was just curious." I heard myself lie.
He nodded, just as the bartender deposited two fresh drinks in front of us.
"So when do you go back to Philly?" I asked, sipping the new drink. I could feel my insides warming, and I scooted ever so slightly closer to Dylan. If he minded, he certainly didn't show it.
"Sunday afternoon, we have another dinner tomorrow night, then a breakfast Sunday."
"That's a lot of schmoozing," I replied.
"Tell me about it. I'm free most of the day tomorrow though," he said suggestively.
"Oh are you now?" I replied with a smirk.
"Yes, plenty of time to sleep in..." he trailed off. I punched him in the shoulder, but instantly knew that he was going to end up in my bed.
Suddenly, my imperfect thoughts were interrupted by the loud noise of drunk people stumbling in the front door of the bar. I turned on my stool, only to see Ashley, Trevor, a few people I didn't recognize and then... Nick.
