Who was she kidding? She wanted to be with him.
Which was why she was licking salt off the rim of her glass and trying to smile for her friends, who looked as morose as she felt. Suzanne looked morose and impatient, her foot tapping on the floor, repeated sighs emerging as she darted her gaze around the room.
Imogen looked morose and uncomfortable, pushing her glasses up on her nose over and over as she fiddled with the charm bracelet she wore.
It was something of a dive bar, with sticky wooden tables and a pervasive grease scent clinging to the walls. They were sitting at a table, but there were at least ten men lined up at the bar, some alone, some in groups, and Tamara noticed the three of them were getting a lot of curious looks, especially Imogen.
The men seemed puzzled by Imogen. They leered at Suzanne, who was wearing a red cle**age-bearing top. And basically, they ignored Tamara. Which was fine with her.
“I thought it would be a little more happening,” Suzanne complained. “It’s a Friday night and no one is even dancing.”
“That’s okay,” Imogen said. “I don’t dance.”
“Why not?” Suzanne looked both amazed and horrified by that statement.
“I have no rhythm.”
“Everyone has rhythm. You have to. We’re born with it.”
“I don’t. I’m serious.” Imogen was sipping her second margarita, and her eyes were getting a little glassy.
“We’re going to get you dancing before the night is out,” Suzanne vowed.
Tamara somehow doubted that, but it could be entertaining to see Suzanne try.
“So have you talked to Ryder?” she asked Suzanne. Then she explained to Imogen, “I know I told you Suz and Ryder are divorced, but Suz had a victory party for him a few weeks ago and it didn’t go so well.”
“No, I haven’t talked to him. It’s his turn to apologize.” Suzanne’s jaw was set and she took a gulp of her drink.
Tamara wasn’t sure what Ryder was supposed to apologize for, exactly, but she would trust Suz on this one. “I’m sorry the party was such a disaster.”
“Hey, it got you laid, didn’t it? I call it a success.”
Tamara blushed. She said to Imogen, “Elec and I, are, uh, dating.”
“I figured as much. He seems nice.”
“He is.” Tamara felt warm all over and she thought it was only partially the alcohol.
“Look at your face,” Suzanne said with delight. “Girl, you are gone. It’s so cute.”
A trio of men approached their table. “Can we buy you all a drink?” the leader of the pack asked.
“No, thanks,” Suzanne said. “Girls night out.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, thanks, but we’re just not interested.”
The men nodded in acknowledgment and sauntered back to the bar.
“Oh, my God,” Suzanne said to them, her jaw dropping.
“What?”
“I just realized I said we weren’t interested and I actually really meant it. I mean, normally if I was out with my girlfriends, I would say I wasn’t interested because, you know, you don’t blow your girls off for men, even if I was interested in a little flirting. But I said that to these guys because we’re hanging out together, and well, Tammy, you’re all into Elec, but the truth of the matter is, those guys were cute and I really wasn’t interested. What the hell is the matter with me?”
Tamara wasn’t going to touch that one with a ten-foot pole.
But Imogen had no such reservations. “Can I make an observation?”
“Sure.” Suzanne raised her glass to Imogen.
“It’s been my experience that if a woman isn’t looking around with an open eye for eligible men, it’s because she is taken, whether in actuality or just emotionally.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you already have someone in mind you want to be with, so you are no longer looking for a potential mate. In fact, I’m surprised that those men even approached us, because generally speaking, when women aren’t available, they exude a friendly but closed demeanor that men pick up on. If you feel that way, and Tamara is smitten with Elec, then I’m surprised that they thought we were approachable.”
“Maybe it was you,” Suzanne said. “Though I can honestly say I don’t have anyone in mind I want to be with.”
Tamara gave her best friend a sidelong glance. “I’m only saying this because I’ve had too much to drink, but, sweetie, don’t you think maybe you and Ryder have unresolved business?”
“That could be,” Suzanne admitted, which showed Tamara she’d had just as much to drink to say those words out loud. “But I don’t really think I want to do anything about it.”
“Fair enough.”
“Imogen, did you want me to go get those guys? I just sent them away without asking if you were interested,” Suzanne said. “If you thought they were cute, I’ll go haul their asses back over here.”
“Oh, no, that’s okay. I’m not interested. I am stupidly intrigued by someone I shouldn’t be.”
“A professor?” Suzanne asked. “Please tell me he dresses better than Geoffrey.”
“Oh, it’s not a professor.”
Oh, Lord, Tamara knew exactly who it was. “It’s Ty, isn’t it?” She shifted in her hard seat, and wiggled her toes in her flip-flops. Imogen dangling for Ty had all the makings of a disaster.
But unfortunately, Imogen nodded. “He’s really quite attractive.”
“Ty! What?” Suzanne slapped her glass down so hard, her margarita sloshed over the side.
“How the hell do you know Ty?”
“I just met him briefly at Tamara’s house. It was no big deal.”
“He called her Emma Jean because he couldn’t figure her name out,” Tamara told Suzanne.
“Well, I could see how that would get you excited,” Suzanne said, looking extremely puzzled.
“Oh, trust me, it’s a purely physical reaction on my part to his appearance. I know it’s ludicrous.” Imogen shrugged. “But the body wants what the body wants.”
“Truer words were never spoken,” Tamara said, feeling the weight of that statement all the way down to her inner thighs.
“Amen,” Suzanne said and raised her glass. “I’ll drink to that.”
They all raised their drinks and clinked them together before taking a healthy swallow.