"You know who he looked like." Jessica mumble looking back at the table like the two guys ghost are just going to be there.

"Hmm?" I barely have the energy to form a sentence as we roll silverware together, her voice being a reminder of how much I have to mentally prepare for the next day.

"He looks like that multi billionaire Ares Gray who runs the National Banks. Genius guy, only twenty-seven and he has more people under the toe of his boot than some generals!"

Oh who? "You said who? I mean Ares Gray? That's a crazy assumption. He came to a three star diner?"

"I mean did you get his name?" Yes.

"No, it wasn't like that. He just gave me his number and I agreed to let him buy me dinner tomorrow."

"You didn't get this man's name. How stupid are you bitch?" She grumble mockingly slamming her head into the table a couple times, "At least you have good taste in dick! He seems like a tasty one."

The blush rises to my cheeks, her profane words catching me off guard, "I mean he was hot."

"More than hot, he was hard to stop looking at when serving tables. The luckiest bitch in the world for getting him!"

"And they tipped me a bill." I pretend to be the star of a runway flexing my hands underneath my face, and turning towards the imaginary lights. I feel the receipt that has his number crinkling in my pocket, mocking me that I haven't actually told him that I accepted his offer.

"Damn! So you're buying tonight right?"

"Ice cream and rent a movie."

She smiles throwing her head back, "This is why you and only you would be able to turn me from men."

We both fall into a fit of laughter enjoying the peace and quiet in the restaurant. It's hard not to enjoy these moments together, especially when life itself can be pretty sticky.

"Well hurry, we don't have all night! Our dumb asses open tomorrow."

"And I better be dairy bloated when we do." She responds our hands clapping together in the middle of the table. This is really all I need.

~

Jessica stays asleep on my couch as I work my way back to my bed. We tossed our work clothes into the wash before we started the movie so I take a mini detour to run them in the dryer. The phone number lays across the top of the wash, and my phone vibrates against my butt when another notification comes through.

"I might as well get this over with." I mumble to myself crawling into my twin bed that barely holds myself and the pillows.

Ares 10:52 p.m.:

Hello.

Ares 11:04 p.m.:

Of course, darling. What time should I pick you up?

Ares 11:05 p.m.:

See you at six.

I force myself to shut my phone off and ignore any messages that could potentially come through. If not for myself but for my sanity.

My eyes trail through the dark room as I hold my phone to my chest, my eyes landing on a photo of my parents, both their arms wrapped around me at my high school graduation. Such a simpler time.

The yellow paint peeling off wall, the floor that has a mysterious stain, and the garbage disposal that doesn't quite turn off and grumbles in the background... they're all home. While my parents passing devastated me the only one to pick me up was the secure control of my ex, which lead to my failures. I never went to college, never had a dream for myself, and relied on everything around me to make me happy.

Such a simpler time.

Now I lean back in my bed, my home being the cozier shit hole ever, and remind myself of my pure imagination. I click open my phone after turning it back on so I can get to my reading app burrowing myself into my comforter. Sticking one foot out, I scroll through to find the next cheesy romance to read.

It's easier to shove off love and care, and anything demeaning when you have perfect males and mates in books. How easy would it be to just have someone perfectly made for you? Then the adventure of fantasy... I wish I could just have a taste of some of the stories I read, but alas, I have a shift at ten a.m. and have to center myself back to the world. No matter how much I don't want to.

I actively avoided his messages but one final one rings through as I close my eyes for bed:

Ares 12:01 a.m.:

I hope you keep your promise of climbing me like a tree.