Love Games

09|| Sellout

🦋Amina

Lying in bed, indulging in another lazy day, my phone suddenly rings, jolting me from my languid state. "Get up and get dressed. I'm taking you to lunch. Be there in 30," Ivy declares before promptly hanging up, leaving no room for negotiation.

I stumble out of bed, still half-asleep, and make my way to the front door. There, gleaming under the midday sun, sits a candy apple red Benz. Ivy's taste in cars has always been impressive—Audis, Jeeps, and even a Tesla—but this Benz takes the cake. It seems too extravagant for her, especially considering her track record with vehicles. I can't help but remember the three cars she's wrecked in the last two years alone.

"Where the hell did this come from? Did we get a raise I don't know about?" I inquire, unable to hide my surprise.

"No, it was a gift. Just get in," Ivy replies, her nonchalance doing little to reassure me.

"Ivy, let me drive. You know I don't trust you behind the wheel," I plead, knowing full well the consequences of her erratic driving.

"Girl, I got this. Get in the car," she insists, brushing off my concerns.

Reluctantly, I climb into the passenger seat as we embark on our journey to the restaurant, my anxiety levels rising with each passing mile.

••••

We had been seated at the elegant 5-star Thai restaurant for about 20 minutes, enjoying our first round of happy hour cocktails. The ambiance was sophisticated, with soft lighting and a gentle buzz of conversation filling the air.

As we awaited our food, the waiter returned with our dishes. His demeanor was courteous, but as he placed down our plates, I couldn't help but notice the subtle flirty gestures directed towards Amina. His eyes lingered a fraction longer than necessary, and there was a hint of admiration in his smile as he withdrew.

Ivy's eyebrows shot up in surprise as she watched the waiter walk away. "You're really that oblivious?" she exclaimed, her tone laced with incredulity.

"Huh?" I responded, caught off guard by Ivy's sudden change in tone.

"You can't tell he's flirting with you?" she continued, nodding towards where the waiter had just been.

I followed her gaze, my cheeks flushing as I realized what she was implying. "He's just being friendly," I mumbled, attempting to brush off the attention.

"Girl, that man is definitely flirting with you," Ivy insisted, leaning in conspiratorially.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, feeling both flattered and self-conscious under Ivy's scrutiny. "I... I guess I didn't notice," I admitted, a sheepish smile playing at my lips.

"Well, now you know," Ivy replied with a knowing grin, clearly enjoying the moment. "Looks like you've got an admirer."

I chuckled nervously, unsure of how to react to the newfound attention. It was a surprising twist to our lunch outing, and I couldn't help but feel a mixture of excitement and apprehension at the prospect of being the object of someone's flirtation. Especially being that I haven't gotten much male attention lately.

I turned my attention to the bartender, who was meticulously shining some glasses while flashing a smile in my direction. Returning the gesture with a quick smile of my own, I couldn't help but wonder if it had really been that long since someone had flirted with me. However, as flattering as it was, the bartender wasn't my type, and I made that clear to Ivy.

"If he is, he's not my type," I shrugged, trying to downplay the situation.

"Why not? He's hot," Ivy persisted.