Colleagues

Chapter 15 | Sadie

I walked into the luxurious hotel. Lavish decorations adorned the room, including a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling. I could distinguish the faint sound of a grand piano playing in the background. I looked around me in confusion. There was no way Christian worked here.

But I was wrong. Sure enough, a sign above a door across the room indicated that the restaurant Margot had mentioned was only a few meters away from where I stood. As I made my way towards it, I felt very underdressed.

Theoretically, if I continued the current career track I was on, this would be the type of restaurant I could eat at every night. I might even feel at home with all these affluent people. But part of me secretly knew that would never be the case. I could never fit in with people like these. I would always be that girl from the suburbs right outside of the city raised by a single mother. I wondered if Margot felt the same.

Walking through the furnished tables, I scanned the restaurant for a familiar face. That's when I finally saw him, standing behind a bar located near the center of the establishment. I suddenly came to a realization: Christian was a bartender. I took a deep breath, preparing for the interaction that was about to take place, if I didn't gouge out his eyes before that.

I approached the bar slowly, my eyes landing on the man who's voice I had often heard next door. Margot was there too, sitting at the bar across from him. I held in a breath as Christian's eyes locked with mine. He gave me a cheeky grin. Some may have found it charming, but I loathed him for it.

"You must be the infamous Sadie Brooks," he stated loudly. "It is amazing to finally meet you."

But you have already have, I wanted to say.

Margot looked back and forth between us, a nervous smile plastered on her face. Part of me wanted to play nice, just for her. For some reason she seemed to care what I thought of Christian, but I had grown tired of letting other people's own feelings determine how I acted.

"You're a bartender," I stated, failing to contain my surprise.

"A pleasure to be of service to you" he replied, bowing slightly. I didn't reply. "Does that bother you?"

"No, I'm just curious how you and Margot met," I replied honestly.

"We actually met for the first time while he was bartending," Margot interposed. "It was this little hole-in-the-wall establishment. As you can see, Christian has clearly moved up in the world," she teased.

Some part of me was expecting Christian to act defensively, demanding why Margot had mentioned the spartan nature of his previous workplace. But he laughed good-naturedly.

"Guess I have," he said, grinning. "Be careful, Mar. I might just leave you for a wealthier woman."

"Good luck finding one," Margot shot back wittily.

I felt like an outsider looking in. The thought of staying here for the rest of the evening filled me with trepidation.

A client approached the bar, interrupting their little moment, to my relief. As Christian talked to them, I brainstormed ways to leave the restaurant as soon as possible while still being polite. I came up empty.

When I looked back up, I noticed Margot watching me. "Do you come here often?" I asked, hoping to break the silence.

"Sometimes," she replied thoughtfully. "Just to see Christian though. It must get boring, serving all these snotty people. I like keeping him company."

I nodded. "So what's your drink of choice?" came Christian's smooth voice. "Let me guess, Manhattan? Moscow Mule?"

I had no intention of getting drunk tonight. It was about a 30-minute subway ride back home and I wanted to be alert the whole time.