Part 7

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"Oh they didn't say, they just said they'd get the bill. They left their credit card on file," the waitress explained. Riley looked over at me. A broad smile spreading out across her face, making her look devious (and pretty). She leaned forward on the table, placing her elbows on the surface and rubbing her hands together.

"Is that a fact?" she asked. The waitress nodded, looking a bit confused. Riley turned back towards me, "You thinking what I am thinking?" she said, her voice sounding low and malicious. I instantly surmised what she was hinting at. A little bit of revenge. My humiliation in exchange for a very, very expensive meal. For a second I thought about it, but I started to shake my head.

"No, I can't, they..." I started.

"Want us to have a good meal," Riley said, smiling sweetly at the waitress, then she turned towards me, raising bother her eyebrows and speaking slowly, "I am in payroll, trust me Eric can handle it. And they DESERVE to hear about US being happy," she said, each word dripping with meaning. I knew she was right, but I was about to demur again.

I was angry at Eric and Kim, and confused, but I couldn't do that. It was wrong to take someone's money. Especially a friend. Even if that friend was being...weirdly cruel without provocation. But thinking about that strange spite from my friends, and hearing about what I deserved and about being happy, I thought about my conversation with Kim. The one where she'd cried and told me about me about my future and my needs. I thought about the emotional ups and downs of that conversation, the way that Kim seemed to really hurt for me. The fact that I sacrificed what I wanted just to make her happy.

It was all for this...joke or prank. And I got what, a free meal out of it? Hardly even. Each memory, the feelings and guilt she'd stirred in me, heightened the rage. I had never felt so angry in my entire life.

"Actually, I am feeling pretty hungry," I said, sitting back down in the seat. Eric and Kim were going to pay until we were equal and then pay some more. Then I might not ever speak to them again. This was unforgiveable. A joke in bad taste was one thing, but this went beyond it. (I mean not really, I was never going to cut them out. But it felt powerful to pretend I could). The more I thought about it, the less I was able to understand it. My friends were being just hatefully mean to me for no reason. They left their credit card to mitigate the shear meanness of it, but that wasn't really enough. Apparently Riley felt the same way. She picked up her menu.

"Yes, miss. We'd like a bottle of your most expensive red wine...and a bottle of your most expensive white wine. Uh...we'd like one of...let's say each of the appetizers. We'd also like two of your most expensive entrees and...let's say the catch of the day for us to share," she said, pointing to each item on the menu as the waitresses eyes got wider. Riley spoke pointedly, each word spilling out of her mouth like she was spitting out a razor blade. I liked the way she sounded, feeling my righteous indignation mirrored in her voice.

"Actually, we have a really nice white to pair with the fish..." The waitress attempted to say.

"Is it the most expensive white wine?"

"No but..."

"We want the expensive one. Our pallets are crazy sophisticated," she said and, despite my anger, I had to giggle, "Thanks." And then Riley handed the menus back to the waitress. The waitress looked a little bit dazed but nodded and walked away.

"Oh my god, you are so crazy!" I said once the waitress was gone. I was glad that this girl was on my side. I wanted to get even, but I wouldn't have even known where to start.

"I hope you don't mind me ordering for you, we are on a date after all," she said and I actually smiled.

"Not at all, as long as you promise to save room for dessert."

"Desserts," she said and we both laughed a little bit. We sat in silence for a few moments, just trying to come to terms with the new situation. Finally, I had an idea.

"Hey, do you just want to leave? I mean, they are going to charge them for the food anyway, let's just both go home," I suggested.

"Uh...No Ash. I appreciate the offer, but I am staying," she said, "First of all, I am nowhere near done here. Second, like I said, I cleared my schedule. I have nowhere else to be. Do you?"

"Well I could go back to the office I guess, but really no..." I replied, wondering what I could be doing more productive than this.

"Then fuck it," Riley responded, "Let's just take it easy and have the most expensive meal of our lives. You seem like good company, let's get back at them by enjoying our 'date.'" I tilted my head to the side and looked at Riley. What she said made sense. I nodded.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, "You seem like more fun than paperwork"

"A ringing endorsement," she responded and I laughed. At that moment, the sommelier arrived with two bottles of wine. He seemed surprised that he was bringing two bottles for two people. But he popped the corks and we inspected them. He was about to pour the wine into the glasses.

"Woah there," Riley said, grabbing at the red wine bottle, "We can handle that part." She said. The sommelier looked at her like she was crazy.

"They usually do that kind of stuff for you."

"No, I usually do this stuff for me. He is going to fill it like a quarter of the way up so it can pretentiously 'breathe.' I want to get drunk on someone else's dime, I am filling my glass," she said, tilting the wine bottle up, "and yours to the top." And she poured out her wine until it was almost at the rim. The sommelier shook his head and walked away.

"I have work in the morning," I said, placing my hand over my glass. I really did.

"Don't make me drink alone Ash," she said, she started to pour the wine out of the bottle! It splashed against my hand and I quickly drew it back. Soon she was filling my glass just as she had hers. I wanted to be angry, but I just laughed at her boldness. She didn't try to convince me of anything, she just did what she wanted and expected me to get in line. I admired that.

"Well, you drive a hard bargain," I said, "But I guess I am in." Riley lifted her glass, very carefully, for a toast. I did the same.

"To...a dyke date I guess," Riley said and clinked her glass against mine. I laughed.

"To...that," I said. We brought our glasses up and both took deep drinks of the expensive (and tasty) wine. Riley didn't hold back, she downed her glass of wine, gulping it like water, and then set her glass back down.

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