Let Her Do Her Worst

Where's Stephen?" my best friend, Julia, asked as we approached the cocktail lounge.

"He said he had to work late again," I replied. "That seems to be an everyday occurrence

lately," she pointed out. "It is what it is." I didn't want to get into it with

her. I'd called her so we could enjoy a night out together, which was something

we hadn't done in months. "I suppose I shouldn't bitch." It was like she

was reading my mind, "The more he works, the more I get to see you." She nudged me with

her shoulder. When we got to the entrance of the lounge, I pulled the door

open so Julia could enter before me. "Do you want to sit at the bar or get a booth?"