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Authors: Melissa Brown

Champagne Toast (3 page)

BOOK: Champagne Toast
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Chapt
e
r 3

 

Evan

 

October 6, 2007

 


Hey man, you wanna grab something to eat?
”  Patrick, my roommate,
asks as he pulls on his hooded sweatshirt.


I can

t,

I reply, placing my leather watch on my wrist and straightening out my wool sweater so no creases show,

I have an in
terview this afternoon.”


Oh, yeah, at the bar, right?


Yep,

I nod.


Perfect place for you to work. You

ll get a lot of tips, dude.


I hope so, this school is so expensive.  I really need to make some money so I don

t end up in a huge amount of debt when I graduate.


I hear ya,

he nods.


Yeah, sure you do, Mr. Scholarship,

I tease, raising an eyebrow.


Whatever, man,

Patrick shrugs
.

It doesn

t pay for everything.  In fact, I

ve been thinking of getting a job, too.  Then, maybe this place won

t look like such a dump.  I can hire a cleaning service or something.

I laugh to myself, shaking my head.  Patrick is one of my favorite people
,
and frankly, I

m lucky that we were paired up as roommates when we first came to campus. But,
seriously, what college student
can afford to hire a maid for their apartment?  Were we any dirtier than the
average j
uniors at Northwestern?  No, I

m pretty sure our level of filth is normal.  But, Patrick comes from one of the wealthiest suburbs in the state. He

s used to being catered to, and I am the polar opposite.  I

m used to working
. . .
hard.  My family has always struggled and I know just how difficult it was for my parents to put food on the table while I was growing up.


Host a few less parties at our place and it

ll start looking a hell of a lot better, man
.” 
I smile at Patrick.  Aside from resembling a younger Brad Pitt, Patrick is also a standard genius.  His IQ is so high that Northwestern was banging on his door, begging him to attend their prestigious Un
iversity.  He’s what they call ‘
book smart

, acing his classes even when he skips them for weeks at a time

Incredibly intelligent, yet lacking when it comes to basic common sense.  I

m the exact opposite.  I see right through the bullshit, I understand the basics on how to get by, but when it comes to intellect, I

m not exactly known for my grades.  I work hard to maintain my 3.0 here. In fact, I

m pretty proud of it.

Despite being so different, Patrick has become my best friend over the past two years here in Evanston.  I should hate the kid since he

s lived such a life of privilege and is oblivious to just how spoiled he is.  But, I don

t hate him, not at all.  We

re a good balance.  Even when I come home after working my ass off at the library and there are forty people in my apartment drinking all of my beer.  I know Patrick will replace it and I know he

ll kick everyone out if I

m in no mood to deal with it.  He

s a good guy.

And I

m not perfect either.  I

m headstrong and stubborn, moody and sarcastic.  I

m also guessing I can be a pretty big
buzzkill
for my carefree roommate.
I study a lot
,
and I

m not as spontaneous as he is
, because
my desire to go far in life hinges on the fact that I know I have to work hard for it.  Believe it or not, though, the only thing Patrick really hates about me is my love for the Pack.
Even though I reside in Illinois, my football team will always be the Packers.  I

m originally from Wisconsin
,
and this is simply something that Illinois cannot take from me.   Thank God, we can agree on our college team. We are both tried and true Northwestern Wildcats fans. 


So, wanna meet up after your interview?

Patrick asks.
He doesn

t really like to hang out by himself.
He bores easily.


Sure, I

ll call your cell
.” 
I respond, placing my wallet in my pocket and checking my watch one last time,

I
’d better go, man.
I

ll
check in later.  Wish me luck!”


Luck!

Patrick yells after me as I close the apartment door behind me.

Walking the five blocks to Molly

s Tavern, I
’m glad I dressed warm
.  The October weather has begun and the signature Midwest chill is now upon the campus.  I cup my hands together and blow into them, just as I round the corner and see the sign hanging from the tavern. 

The bell rings as I step inside.  It

s only noon on a Saturday, but it

s football season and th
e bar is already busy.  Wall-to-
wall college students fill the large Irish pub.  Can

t imagine why the manager chose this time to meet with me.  I walk up to the bar
,
and I

m struck by the young woman behind it.  She looks about my age
,
with a pale complexion and gorgeous deep brown hair.  She smiles at patrons as she takes their orders and quickly fills their beer glasses.  I sit down at the bar and wait for her to have a break before asking for the manager.  I glance up at the TV above the bar, distracted by a car commercial.


What can I get ya?

Oh man, that voice.  It

s gorgeous and right away I know it belongs to the beautiful bartender.  She has a tiny dimple on her right cheek and her eyes are a fascinating shade of hazel.  Her skin is flawless
,
with just a few freckles adorning the bridge of her nose and cheeks.  She

s stunning.


I

m actually looking for Vince.  My name is Evan Maxwell.  I

m here to interview for the opening that was posted in the paper last week
.” 
The young woman looks me up and down with a suspicious glance.
I can

t tell if she

s about to flirt with me or laugh her ass off.


Vince asked you to come down here on a
Saturday afternoon
in the middle of football season?

  Her tone is sarcastic.  I like her already.


I know, I thought it was kinda weird myself,

I shrug. 

Is he around?


He was, but I think he stepped out for a bit.
My name

s Kate.  Let me get someone to take over for me and I

ll show you to his office, okay?

“That’d be great, thanks
,

I nod, rubbing my hands along the oak of the bar.


Can I get you anything while you wait
,
a beer or something?

she asks, raising an eyebrow flirtatiously.


I think I

m smart enough to know it

d be very bad form to order a beer right before an interview,

I reply with a laugh,

although it
is
tempting.


It

ll be our little secret?

Kate asks, her words sounding almost seductive.  Suddenly
,
I feel I

m being tested, like I

m in the middle of a strange screening process.  Order the drink and you

re don
e — no
job for you.


That

s okay,

I grin,

I

ll just hang around here until you

re ready.

“Suit yourself.”
Kate looks relieved
,
and somehow I

m confident that I have, indeed, passed her test.

About ten minutes later, Kate walks around the bar and stands beside me.  Her slight build is curvy yet petite
,
and I

m drawn to her even more now that I can see all of her.  Immediately, I

m turned on by this woman and want to know more about her.  Is she single?  Does she go to NU?  Is she as into me as I

m into her?


Hey, sorry that took so long.  I

ll take you back to Vince

s office.  If he

s still not there, I can ask you the basic questions and let him know how you did.
I

ve done that before and he doesn

t seem to mind
,

Kate says, running her fingers through her thick hair.


Sure, that

s fine,

I say.  Kate smiles and leads me through the kitchen and the storeroom area of the bar. 

“Obviously, this is the kitchen
.  If you work here, you

ll be trained to know the ins and outs of everything, not just the bar out there.  Be ready to wash dishes and empty the trash. We all have to do it.


I get it,

I nod. 

I

m not above doing stuff like that.


Well, Vince gets pissed because he

s hired a few students who refuse to pitch in.  All they wanna do is pour drinks and hit on girls.  But, not every guy can be Tom Cruise in Cocktail.  There

s actually work to be done, ya know?  It

s not as glamorous as it seems
.” 
I can hear the sarcasm dripping off of her words, and I

m instantly smitten with this girl.


Understood,

I reply.

Are you a student, too?


Yeah, but not here.  I can
’t afford Northwestern.
  I go to Oakton.  Go ahead, tell me it

s crap,

she says defensively.  Her cheeks redden in embarrassment
,
and I regret the question immediately.


No shame in going to Oakton.  I

ve heard they have some really great programs,

I smile widely, trying to reassure her.  She lifts her head just a bit, tilting it slightly as she peers into my eyes.


Seriously, the world does not begin and end with Northwestern,

I say in my most serious voice.  Kate smiles, and suddenly, it feels like all the air in my chest has been compressed. 
Holy shit.

BOOK: Champagne Toast
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ads

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