[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Well, that was the risk she took when she threw her life at the fates, allowing herself to go with the flow, waiting for the next wind to choose her path.Open as she was to change, she realized a new life was not going to begin in this bar or with this man or anyone else in that den of snobbery.Therefore, she had no reason to stay.She grabbed her bag and began to scoot out of the booth.She didn’t get more than a foot away from the interloper when he grabbed hold of her forearm.The look she shot him would’ve given most people pause, but the cocky stranger merely smiled.Slowly he loosened his grip and let Priscilla’s arm drop.Once again in possession of all her limbs, Priscilla stood up abruptly, silently debating whether it would be more satisfying to strike him with her purse, pour her largely untouched drink in his lap, berate him with any number of insulting observations, or simply turn and walk away.She had no time to act on any of these options, as she was suddenly surrounded by Darlene, Rochelle and company.“Hi! How’s it going?” Rochelle asked with a meaningful look at the man who had invaded their table.Priscilla didn’t bother to answer.She pushed straight through them, her patience thoroughly spent.“Hey, where ya goin’?” Rochelle tried again, as she endeavored to keep pace with her friend.“Sammy, wait!” Priscilla spun around, startling Rochelle with her intensity.“What’s wrong? Who’s that gorgeous guy at our table?” Rochelle asked conspiratorially.“He’s a prick, that’s who he is.”“Why, what’d he do? Do you know him?” Rochelle asked, confused.“I’ve never seen him in my life, but I can tell you he’s the kind of guy you want to steer clear of,” Priscilla said, resuming her exit.“Wait, Sammy—where ya goin?”“I’m getting the hell out of this place.” Priscilla worked her way through the crowd, unaware that Rochelle was right behind her, until they finally emerged from the writhing throng out into the refreshingly cool night air.They threaded their way past the crowd that was now waiting to get in.Priscilla stopped in the nearest alleyway to say goodbye to her abductor.“I’m sorry you didn’t have a good time,” Rochelle said, shivering in her exposed skin.“We thought getting out somewhere nice like…NYCE would do you good.” Priscilla’s expression challenged this remark.“Well, you haven’t dated anyone since Ryan…have you?”“No, but I’m not really in any hurry to, either.”“You can’t avoid men forever, Sammy.Just ’cause none of your relationships worked out the way you wanted them to doesn’t mean they’ll all be that way,” Rochelle said earnestly.Priscilla marveled at Rochelle’s wealth of hope.To hear her talk, one would think Rochelle had cracked the love conundrum and was happily married to the man of her dreams.Priscilla didn’t have the heart to remind her that her track record wasn’t anything to gloat over.She couldn’t understand how Rochelle could work up the nerve to face her fruitless pursuit of love, or even any reasonable facsimile thereof, night after disappointing night.The main difference between the two of them was Rochelle believed a man could solve all her problems, while Priscilla knew that men could only add to hers.She was trying to think of a nice way to say this, when a door in the alley opened with a burst of music and garbled voices.A figure emerged, walking toward them.“Matthew!” Rochelle exclaimed, catching the man off guard.He slowed and eyed both women cautiously.“Do I know you?” he asked, eyeing them both.“We met the other night…me and my friend Darlene came in last Tuesday for cocktails…you waited on us,” she said, attempting to jog his memory.Matthew shook his head regretfully.“We get so many people in here,” he said apologetically.“Remember, you told us where the cocktail was invented, and that a man named Harold Ramos—or was it Henry Ramos—created the Gin Fizz…?” Rochelle’s longing to be remembered was becoming acutely embarrassing to Priscilla.Fortunately, the bartender came to her rescue.“Oh yeah… I remember now.Sure [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]