Sweet Seduction ✔︎

|2| 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒓

Noise masquerading as music thumped against Freya's ears. She squeezed closer to Susan to make room for Anne at the table that was about the size of a quarter and covered with a mysterious sticky substance.

“This place is smaller than I thought,” Susan yelled above the screech of the band.

“And more crowded,” Freya agreed, though she suspected the jam-packed crowd was due to the two-dollar beers rather than the atmosphere.

“Hi, ladies.” A young man with curly brown hair approached. His tie was askew against his wrinkled shirt. “Fancy seeing you all here.”

“Danny!” Anne pushed closer to Freya to make a space for him to sit. “Come on and join us.”

He sat, thumping his pint of ale on the table and nearly knocking over Susan’s margarita. Freya caught the glass and pushed it back on the table.

“Sorry.” Danny grinned at her, his eyes sparkling. “You look especially lovely tonight, Freya.”

Susan elbowed her in the side and wiggled her eyebrows none too discreetly. Freya returned Danny’s smile. They’d frequented the same bars over the past few months, but hadn’t yet socialized beyond that. He was the kind of boy she’d always liked—cute and engaging with a ready smile. A recent grad of San Francisco State, he was also in a similar “what next?” stage of life as she was, so they had a lot to commiserate about.

“Any luck with the job search?” she asked.

“Applied at a new upstart in San Jose.” He tilted his head back for a swallow of beer. “You?”

Freya shook her head. “Planning Josh and Jupiter's wedding has taken up so much time that I haven’t been able to job hunt much. I’ll have to start soon, though.”

She wasn’t looking forward to it, either. She was bound to feel a little dispirited after the wedding was over and Jupiter no longer needed her help. She’d offered to help cover shifts at the bakery when Jupiter and Josh were on their honeymoon, but that would only last so long.

“Hey, I have some leads you might be interested in,” Danny remarked. “Or you could totally get into modeling or acting.”

She lifted her eyebrows in a “really?” look, which he responded to with an abashed smile.

“Sorry.” He took a swig of the ale. “I lay it on thick when I get nervous around a beautiful girl. But you could totally be a model,” he added hastily. “I mean that sincerely.”

“Thank you.” Freya shifted to try and escape Susan’s persistent elbow nudges. “Sincerely.”

She glanced at her watch. Any other night, she might have suggested they all head to a different bar—one without sticky tables and watered-down drinks—but she had to work the following day and there was still so much to do for the wedding.

“I’m going to head out.” She picked up her purse and squeezed out of the chair. “I have stuff I should finish up at home. Everyone, have a good evening.”

A chorus of goodbyes followed her as she headed out to her car. Usually being out with her friends eased her growing uncertainty about her life, but tonight she felt worse. Five years from now, would she still be working at the insurance agency, watching the clock until she could leave at five and head directly to happy hour in a dank, crowded bar?

She didn’t want a life like that. It was painfully close to the one her parents had lived, except they’d never even enjoyed happy hour. They’d had dead-end jobs, tedious routines, and a stale marriage held together by sheer inertia.