Breaking The Rules

3

you ever feel tension through a phone?
•••

"So what exactly do you do for this job?" Tamara asked me as we walked into the busy club. The entire place vibrated from the blasting music and everywhere I looked, someone was either dancing, drinking, or making out. I pulled my silver dress up ever so slightly, keeping a watchful eye out for my target before I sat down at a booth, adjusting my heels on my feet.

"Well, I'm basically just the one who authorizes all of my business meets," I half-lied. "I just make sure that everything's been done right and that the job wasn't a complete shit show. But most of the time, I doing the work myself, hence the reason why I flew across the ocean."

"Ah, I see," Tamara said, nodding to herself. "Do they always last weeks or does it just depend?"

"It definitely depends," I said, raising an eyebrow when two drinks were set on our table. "Um, excuse me, I think you have the wrong table because we didn't order these."

"The two men over there ordered them for you two," the waitress responded with a smile, walking off. I raised an eyebrow, looking in the direction of the two men. One of them looked to be my exact height of five-foot-eight, his head completely buzzed while he head a lean yet fit body build. The second was obviously taller and larger, their hair messily flopping over their forehead while the two smiled flirtatiously.

"Not interested," Tamara mumbled before I had the chance to. When I turned to Tamara to grin at her, I could see her checking out the waitress as she passed our table, smiling at us. I immediately chuckled, nodding at the discovery I've made.

"I see," I replied, making Tamara's lips spread into a smile. "Say no more, my friend. Give me one second."

I stood up, hearing Tamara call my name as I walked away. I ignored her, walking towards the waitress and tapping her shoulder. When she turned around, I smiled at her.

"Hi, you know my friend over there?" I asked her over the loud music, point to Tamara. When the waitress looked past my head, she smiled again and nodded. "She wants to take you back to her place with her, if you're up for it."

The waitress looked at me again, then at Tamara. I wanted to fist bump the air when she began to write on her notepad, ripping the piece of paper off and handing it to me. When I read her name (Nicole), I thanked her with a grin and walked back to Tamara, handing her the paper.

"And that is what I call an awesome wingman," I said, grinning as I zipped on the fruity drink. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at how sweet it was, beginning to chug it.

"That was way too easy for you," Tamara told me, laughing. She typed the number into her phone, sending a message before putting her phone down. "I feel like I should repay the favour."

I chuckled, thanking her when she let me finish her alcoholic beverage off. "Trust me, you being my date tonight before I find this person for the meeting is more than repayment."

Tamara smiled at me, nodding before she stood up, extending her hand for me to grab. "C'mon, we're gonna dance and hopefully a nice piece of man-meat will eventually take my place."

I laughed, standing up and grabbing her hand. As I followed her through the giant crowd, I couldn't help but feel so much more grateful that I was out of America and meeting new friends—like Tamara.