A few days after my encounter with Nithya was the company Halloween party. It was a big deal every year, only to have another party in December that was an equally big event. Kay used to say that the parties the company threw were insane. We had an end of summer cookout, a start of summer beach party, anything to get everyone out on the weekend and acting foolish. I agreed, but it was always pretty fun too.
This year, the restaurant we were having the Halloween party at was one of those huge corporate gaming places with shuffleboard, darts, all of that kind of nonsense, even lawn bowling on an astroturf pitch that smelled of plastic and spilled beer. There was a mini putt scattered throughout the place, and we were going to do it all in costumes.
Halloween always brought out the younger employees in slutty outfits, the more mature ladies opting for slightly less revealing looks, and all the guys going hard at looks, but usually not wearing anything that would restrict movement, because there were always games.
My team had decided on a Winnie the Pooh theme this year, and as the tallest, I'd somehow ended up dressing as Tigger. A mail order tiger costume and a little bit of facepaint did the job. We had pretty much the whole gang from the forest, even one of the girls as the kangaroo with a baby for her pouch covered her belly (which had been the inspiration for the whole thing).
Most of the teams at the company did similar things, the sales team were dollar store Avengers (most of them didn't even seem to know the character they were), the programming teams were anime characters, Mike's group were all Squid Game, it went on. It was a good time, and the booze flowed, leading to me with my hood off sitting at the bar watching my team mini-put around the place next to a Ghostbuster.
"So how's it going with that redhead from the camping trip man, you still seeing her," Sal prodded. He insisted he was Peter Venkman, but his badge said 'Stanz.'
I looked up at him, surprised to hear of it. Neither he or Mike had brought Stef up once since then, and as far as I knew, they'd both gone along with ignoring the whole thing.
Sal shrugged and smiled lasciviously, "c'mon, Wyatt, there was no was you didn't see her again after that. You railed her so hard that second night David was out his mind horny all week."
I closed my eyes as Sal chuckled at my reaction, it was true, that second night had been a hell of a show. Even Ange had looked at me with a little not-so-hidden sexual hunger the next day. "No, it's done," I told him, "reality sort of just made it fade."
Sal nodded. "When you're ready, David has a list of like seven women that he wants to set you up with," he put a calming hand out as I rolled my eyes at him, "he's not really trying, but you're a successful straight guy in his thirties who loves animals and has a proven track record at marriage, Wy, you're thirty-something catnip."
"I dunno about that," I shrugged at Sal as his eyes widened.
"No, he's right, Wyatt," a familiar voice behind me chipped in, and I turned to see Cam standing behind me in her blue crayon outfit. The entire executive team had come as crayons, and she'd worn a printed unitard to make it work that was both sexy, but completely appropriate. My mouth watered as she took off her crayon tip hat and put it on the bar.
I smiled widely, it was the first time she'd been casual with me since our one-time-never-happened-hookup. Sal laughed, "most single guys in their thirties are divorced narcissists, Norman Bates-types, or total fucking lunatics, and the gay ones are even worse!" We both looked at him and then over at his long-term boyfriend who was dressed as Slimer and on the dance floor with Kanga and two Spice Girls. The group was flossing or doing Gangnam style, I wasn't sure which. He laughed, "I've heard."
"Well," she shrugged dramatically, "I'm seeing someone, so I'll find out which one he is soon enough." That set Sal off. He loved Cam, and immediately demanded she dish. I kept smiling, though I was sure she caught the wince of discomfort and disappointment behind my eyes. I'd really, truly, missed the friendship she and I had once had, and if I had to be okay with this to prove it to her, I'd find a way. "So what about you, Wyatt, are you getting back out there?"
I couldn't believe Cam had asked me that, and I put a hand on Sal's arm to stop him telling her about Stef, and a quick glance set him back to cool. "Sal's just excited because I did see someone," I admitted, "briefly. It was a bad idea. I wasn't ready and she was really, really wrong for me."
Cam put her drink down after a long sip, staring me down. "Oh?" She held me with those dark eyes. She could see me squirm inside, the thumping music on the dance floor. "No other prospects? You're just signing up for all the hookup apps now?"
The mood had shifted as she asked me that, and Sal stepped forward, a joke ready, his hand on my shoulder firmly. I could see in his eyes with a glance that he saw that there was more going on. "No, no apps for me." I held her gaze, "there was, someone I've known a while that I had a moment with..." I took a sip of my pint as Cam's perfectly sculpted right eyebrow hooked up into an arch. I held her gaze, "...she's incredible, but she felt it was too complicated and I guess that means the window is closed. "
Bemused, Cam nodded, mmm-hmm'ing agreement. Cam was about to say something, but Sal slipped between us, signalling the bartender. "Wow, I didn't know that, Wy, hey can we get a round over here? So Cam, what's the new guy's name?"
The moment passed as a pair of masked Squid Gamer's came up to us and revealed themselves as Mike and Ange. Ange hugged Cam, all smiles and laughing, "it's time to dance," Ange shouted, pulling Cam away and grabbing Sal's hand. I watched Cam hit the dance floor with Ange and Sal, her dark eyes still holding me in them. I wasn't sure, but there was definitely some anger there, but something else too. Maybe a crack in the window.
I turned to Mike and cheersed him, "I gotta go play mini-putt with my team in a minute, want to join in?"
"Yeah man," he laughed and waved at Ange. "You gotta talk to Ange tonight, okay? She's not mad at you, but she's being stubborn about talking to you first."
I nodded, smiling, I could handle that. It'd been a bit frosty when I'd dropped by their house a few weeks before. "You got it. When'll she be on drink five and primed to hug-cry?"
He shrugged, "maybe an hour?"
The rest of the party rocked along, I made up with Ange after mini-putt and apologized for hooking up with Stef. She told me she wasn't mad about it, just that it'd been weird. I got the big hug and she cried a little, which meant it was all good now. I'd be going to their place for dinner on Sunday. Mike and I could play some video games and she'd make pasta and spoil Baxter rotten with tiny shreds of chicken.
"Are you and Cam fighting," she'd asked me. I shook my head, lying.
Ange narrowed her eyes at me, but she seemed to make a decision and dragged me along to the bar where Mike, Sal, and David were and we had another round.
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The party was finally starting to wind down, and even I, at a very safe pace, was starting to feel the sheer amount of booze I'd drunk. I've been a careful drinker for many years. The Blue Whale had taught me that. 'There's drunk bartenders, and there's good bartenders,' Bob had told me after I found myself on the wobbly side of the coin one night. Since then, I made sure to have something sans-alcohol between drinks always. The downside was that I had to pee like a racehorse.
So, with the main men's overflowing with my coworkers, I made a trek to the secondary one in the basement. Odds were good I'd catch some sales people doing coke on the sink, I thought as I walked down the long hall. I could hear laughing from the ladies as I hooked into an empty men's room. It was quiet, cool, and I closed my eyes as I hosed down the urinal. I pondered the stories I'd sent out to publishers, knowing I'd hear back soon. Were they good enough? I'd tried a few things, new spins on old work, new ideas, and it'd be nice to get some validation on all the writing I'd been doing since Kay died.
When I was done, I looked at my face in the mirror over the sink, pulling the hood of my costume back from my face. The face paint that gave me whiskers and a few hints of tiger stripes was more or less smudged away, so I scrubbed it off and tried to clean up my hair. In the hall, female voices and the clack of high heels rang. I exhaled, breathing slowly in the cool space, taking my time to level out. The hall outside the door was quiet, and I was hoping I could make an escape from the party as I headed to the door.
I nearly crashed into Cam as she came out of the ladies across the hall. She was in her sock feet, cap long since lost, and she held her shoes in one hand. "Shit," she scowled as she put a hand up to stop herself running into me. She was definitely drunk too. "Did'ja follow me?"
"What? No, I had to pee, Cam," I shook my head, reaching out to take her outstretched hand to help right her as she gave me the eye. "You doing okay?"
She seemed to soften, she inhaled, her face was wet, the edges of her hair as well, she'd been trying to sober up. "Yeah, just Ange is a party ani'maninal." I nodded, having been on the receiving end of a party-time Ange before.
"I would've tried to save you, but I had a feeling you wanted to get away from me."
Cam shook her head. "No, no, I was bein' bitchy. It's just... I don't know what to do around you since..." her eyes focused on me and she smiled goofily. She was definitely more drunk than I was. She put her hands up and pointed a finger from the hand holding her shoes, penetrating her other hand, balled into a fist with it. She chuckled. "Y'know?"
I nodded, "yeah, I do. How about I get you to a cab? Most folks are leaving now anyway." She nodded and took my arm.
"S'good idea. I def'nitley twisted my ankle," she winked, I chuckled. It felt like before again, partners in crime, pals.
"Is your boyfriend waiting for you? I'd like to let him know to be on the lookout for you," I asked, thinking of the stories of creepy Uber drivers and drunk women.
"Mmm," she hummed, "not my boyfriend yet... maybe soon..." she leaned into me and, "he's gonna pick me up. I texted him a l'il while ago." I was glad to hear that she'd get a safe escort home, but a pang of jealously twisted in my gut all the same.
Outside, we sat on the curb, sipping from plastic cups of ice water while we waited for Cam's guy to show up. The cool air and the water seemed to be helping her get it together, and I was starting to feel just about sober when a guy couple inches shorter than me with long black hair who looked like he spent a lot of time in the gym wandered up. He had a big, toothy smile, and waved, calling out to her. They embraced, though Cam avoided the kiss he went for.
I stood, reaching out a hand, "hey man, thanks for helping Cam home," I offered. He gave me an appraising look and took my hand, squeezing too hard as I shook it, "I'm Wyatt."
"Paulo," he responded, giving me nothing. Unsure of what to do, I nodded, hoping he'd end what was becoming an uncomfortably long handshake. Thankfully, Ange and David appeared, still roaring drunk from the dance floor, announcing themselves as the significant-other-welcoming-committee and swept him away. Turning, I saw Sal standing with Mike and some other folks. He waved his hand, knuckles up, like he was shooting me toward Cam as she watched her beau get the full-court press from our friends.
"He seems nice," I nodded to Cam. She smiled at me, starting to look sleepy as she tossed her hair and shook it, "you're good to get home safe?"
Cam nodded, "yeah, we're good. He's great."
