"WHAT?!" Natalie screeched, "What do you mean you aren't going?"
"I'm just too exhausted for the bar scene tonight," Carly replied sheepishly, "Steve and I are going to stay in and watch movies until we pass out."
"Ugh, seriously," Natalie replied impatiently, "I'm all dressed and ready. I wish you'd have called sooner."
"I know, I'm sorry kiddo," Carly said, "I'm sure you and Lisa will have a perfectly good time without me."
"That's the bitch of it," Natalie complained, "Lisa bailed too."
"Oh, no. That sucks."
"Yeah it does," Natalie agreed, "Oh well, guess I'll just start washing this war paint off and put the stilettos away for another night."
"Aw...," Carly began, "Wait a minute! Why don't you call Andrew?"
"NO!" As if bailing on her weren't enough, was Carly seriously suggesting she call that weird guy she and Steve set her up with last weekend?
"Wait, Nat, hear me out," Carly argued, "I know there weren't any fireworks or anything but that doesn't mean you can't hang out. You did like talking to him at least, didn't you?"
It was true that Natalie and Andrew hadn't exactly hit it off romantically, but she had enjoyed talking to him. He seemed to be a pretty good listener and could comment on music, movies and most current events with knowledge and ease. The ability to converse intelligently was not easy to find, as evidenced perfectly by the blank stare on her most recent date's face when she'd asked him his opinion on the crisis in the Middle East, and whether he'd read
Twilight.
"Yeah, he was fun to talk to," Natalie agreed, "But he'll think I'm hitting on him if I call randomly and ask if he wants to hang out."
"No he won't," Carly promised, "He was bugging Steve to hang out tonight, so I know he's looking for something to do."
"I don't know..."
"I'll send him a text giving him the heads up that you'll be calling," Carly insisted, "You guys will have fun. And he always offers to drive, so you don't have to worry about staying sober!"
That girl knows me entirely too well,
Natalie thought. Carly knew Natalie was far too responsible to ever let herself get crazy drunk without a reliable, sober ride home.
"Well...ok," Natalie agreed with less-than-subtle reluctance, "Just as long as you promise me this isn't some last ditch effort to set us up again."
"I promise," Carly said, "You two made it pretty obvious last time that there's no chemistry between you. Besides, all I'm really trying to do here is get myself out of the doghouse."
With that, Natalie agreed to contact Andrew and ask if he was interested in meeting up for drinks. What did she have to lose? She was already dressed to the nines in a sheer black top with silver sequins along the low-cut neckline, over a white cotton tank. Tight, dark-washed jeans accentuated her round ass, and black peep-toe stilettos further lengthened her naturally long legs. She'd spent an ungodly amount of time on her hair and makeup, and was pleased with the results she faced in the mirror. She'd used charcoal shades of eyeshadow and lots of eyeliner to create a smoky effect around her dark brown eyes, and toned things down with a simple nude lip gloss. Believing correctly that her intense eyes and sparkly shirt were accessory enough for the evening, Natalie chose a simple onyx ring to complete the ensemble.
Natalie decided texting Andrew would be less intimidating than calling. She had his number programmed in her cell phone from the previous weekend and used it to send him a casual message, "Hey Andrew, it's Carly's friend, Natalie. Just seeing if you were interested in going out for some drinks tonight."
Before she had time to feel regret or embarrassment, (or wonder if Carly had remembered to send the feel-out message), Natalie's phone rang.
Shit
. It was Andrew, of course. Why did some people refuse to understand that a text message means you either can't or don't want to talk?
"Hello?" Natalie answered nonchalantly.
"Hey, Natalie," a cool, male voice responded, "It's Andrew, I just got your text."
"Hi, Andrew," Natalie replied.
"So, your friends bailed on you tonight, too, huh?"
Cute. Very cute
. Natalie immediately promised herself that the minute he started acting cocky, she'd come up with a raging headache, or a critically-ill cousin and bolt.
"Yeah, they did," she responded with a forced giggle, "Carly mentioned you were looking to head out tonight, too."
"Sure am. Seems like a shame to waste a perfectly good Friday night."
"Want to meet at Artie's Tavern at nine?"
"Sounds good," Andrew agreed, "But can we make it closer to ten? I still have to hop in the shower, and I'm coming from the other side of town."
"Oh, sure," Natalie said quickly, "But if you'd rather, we can go somewhere closer to both of us---"
"No," he interrupted, "Artie's is good, and I can pick you up if you want. Carly said you live off of Reed so it'll be on the way for me."
"Oh, um...ok," Natalie fumbled. She certainly wasn't used to men this agreeable. Or generous.
"Ok, great," Andrew replied, either clueless to her bewilderment or choosing to ignore it, "Text me your address and I'll pick you up at quarter till ten."
Natalie agreed, thanked him, and ended the call. She had precisely an hour to kill and was already regretting letting Carly talk her into this.
He obviously thinks this is a date
, she thought,
If he tries to pay, I'm fucked.
The hour dragged by, until Natalie watched from her window as an older-model silver Volvo pulled up in front of her house. To her delight, he messaged her with "Hey, I'm here," instead of coming to the door.