Days leading upto the restaurants' fifth anniversary was silent. 

After having reduced workplace interactions with Steve who still didn't convey the reason for ghosting me, I was left only with Linda as my companion.

I was never an introvert but with the turn of recent events, it seemed like the barista in me was an attire I donned to interact and socialize with people back in Roseville. Here in California, the chef in me was reserved and tamed. She only had one goal. A Michelin star restaurant spot. 

With my no talk policy with Steve the restaurant manager Philip, my life was floating rudderless into an abyss of hopelessness.

The idea of switching job and getting up to a place that didn't have Philip to arrest my development was merely a thought for now. Three Aces would have been the perfect place for my experience, had it not be plied with my crush and a man who loved to diss me.

"Okay everyone, we will be closed tomorrow for the gala," Marcy said, stepping aside for her second in command to take over. Her eyes glinted with a sheen I had never seen before.

With the stares of a jungle cat's, Steve lingered over each of us before moving to the center of the kitchen floor. "I want all of you at your very best behaviors. I want you all to circle around and interact. Nobody should be seen in a huddle. Is that clear?"

God. What was this? A gala instruction or marching order.

"Daisy!" his voice poked me. "Is it clear?"

"Sir, yes sir." My hand lifted to touch my brow as I shouted those words. Everyone else chuckled, even Marcy, who patted Steve's back before walking away.

Only Steve, who assumed was being mocked, stared daggers at me. Not that it created any dent at my hardened exterior, my petrified interiors were ready to burst open flood gates through my eyes.

But as no damage was done, I grabbed a portion of roasted chicken leg and scurried out of the door for the day. My bolt ceased when I reached the comfort of my home. Linda, who had to trot behind me, only got the explanation for my careless mind to mouth moment, after we were secured inside the apartment.

The night slid away at a snail's pace and brought back morning calmness. Galas and Linda had a strong connection and I was about to learn it the hard way. Usually in her bed till moments before we absolutely had to leave for work, gala day Linda chirped in my room, the minute clock struck seven.

She pulled me out of the bed and into the hall where the coffee table was adorned with face packs and masks.

"We have to start now or else we will not look our best," she struck her hands together and rushed to the table to finish sliding cucumbers.

"Linda the party doesn't start till seven in the evening." After a moment spend in hesitation, I decided to address what may have been the issue. "Babes, you do know the difference between AM and PM, right?"

She blinked at me a couple of times before both hands floated up and to her side. Then her wrists drooped down and so did her head with her tongue sticking out. "Oh no." In her robotic voice, Linda continued. "Human broke me. Questioned difference of AM and PM. Don't know answer. Beep Boop. Broken." She even emitted what seemed to be steam from her mouth in her broken state.

Laughing, I fell hard on the floor with my hands coiled around my abs for laughter ache. "You are really funny at times."

"I am always funny. Now get your ass here so we can begin."

After hours and hours of what Linda considered Korean beauty regime, we finally showered and donned our attires. It was a respite from the usual black pant and white shirt with apron at the restaurant. Linda had her gown in black and red with a bit of shimmer while I went full goth with a black one.

The makeup was curtesy of hers and so was the limo that escorted us. Upon enquiry, I came to know it was her dad's gesture of impressing her after their fallout. The why's and the what's of it was reserved for late.

The rooftop of a fabulous hotel, Zenith, was the venue. From the time we turned the corner,  long line of cars greeted us. The party had already begun. After a minute of an elevator ride, judiciously spent by taking selfies, we both entered into the ballroom.

The crown scanned us and so did we. Sliding towards the bar, we decided on having a little liquid courage before running interactions. A couple of vodka shots did the trick. With a warm belly and head soaring with confidence like an eagle attaining its flight, we walked back into the eye of the buzzling.

Young and old, familiar and first timers all made an appearance. Navigating through them, we reached the spot where Marcy stood.

"You both loo fabulous," she said while laying kisses on her cheeks. Her own dress, orange and grey mélange gown imbibed an aura of a rising phoenix. She knew well, how to command the room and boy did she take that out to play.

With every new introduction, she intonated her tone and expressions as if it was that particular client, who sourced the whole of restaurant's income. After some unfamiliar introductions, none of which I would recollect tomorrow, Linda and I moved back to our comfort zone- the bar.

"What will you have?" she asked, sliding on the bar stood.

"Gin and pineapple juice." My order was placed with Linda planning on trying the same.

"So, anything from him?" Her hint was towards Philip. Since our last interaction, he didn't join us for our lunch breaks. Neither did we spoke about the menu revamp. The last I knew, he wanted to get back with his girlfriend.

"You know as much as I do. Nothing after that."

"Why can't men understand we hate drama," she said for which I could only shrug.

Draining out the contents of our glass, we moved onto harder drinks. I needed it to suppress the encore of emotions every time Philip's attitude rioted back in my mind. Three glasses of amber liquid that was enough to give me heartburns for eternity, I swayed with the music.

"Hey look," Linda grabbed my hand, inturn my attention.

When I tossed my head around to see, my vision was assaulted with Philip, walking hand in hand with a lady. He wore a black tuxedo. The pale lightings of the surroundings created a halo around him. He looked nothing less than a demigod.

"Who is she?" Linda's question begged me to shift my gaze over to the female dressed in red besides him. With intertwined hold she was guiding his steps. 

"I have no clue but I guess she is the girlfriend," I said trying hard to elongate my neck to watched the man who now seemed to be mixed in the crowd.

Warm palm rubbed over the back of my gown. "How are you feeling?" Linda asked. Her eyes swam with a mixture of concern and sorrow. 

I was right to be pitied upon. Against everyone's advice, I kept my feelings to myself. After a failed attempt, I shut them down completely. Only now, upon seeing him again did I realize that there is no permanent solution to the things of the heart. Only upon death shall I find solace. 

Death or another company

"Let's drink," were the wise words of my companion who read my teared eyes. "He is a dick if he choose that spidery legged woman over you."

Chugging a shot, I turned to her. "You think I am a match to her, Linda?" My speech was slowing and my vision, warmed and blurry.

"Yes of course. You are better than her." She uttered loud for the people around to turn. 

"You are the best Lindo," I giggled, coiling my arms around her. 

She booped my nose. "You too are the best, Daiso."

We tittered, nursing our nth drink. Throwing caution to the wind, we drank our weight as the music started to soften. When Marcy dragged up both to the dance floor, Linda held my hand for company. Marcy turned to us with bridged eyebrows before her smile returned. 

"To each his own," she whispered and moved away.

"What was she talking about? Linda's slurred words questioned.

"Ummm. I don't know. I think she wants to dance with you Lindo," which resulted in yet another snickering moment.

"If you guys don't know how to dance then move along," were Steve's brash words to us. He donned on a cheerful smile when some guest walked by but returned to their usual 'I am burned from my balls' look when it was only us. With a twitching jaw, he glared at us. We broke contact and moved backwards as if he would turn into a wolf and maul us, if we showed our backs.

I hit a wall, a human wall to be precise.

"I am so so sorry sir," I said, turning around. Philip's face lifted at a glacial pace and his soft dimple creating smile emerged from a corner.

"Hey Daisy," he leaned over, whispering. In the aftermath of music, it was his voice that resonated in my ears long after they were spoken.

"How did you know?" I was genuinely curious. Of all the people, he recognized me.

"Your voice, Daisy. Its your voice that stands out." His weight shifted on his feet. He lent out a hand towards me. "Care for a dance?"

No, thank you. You have a girlfriend and I need to get out of this one sided relationship that has brought me nothing but pain and suffering. Those could have been the words of some strong woman, ready to take steps towards her self development. I, on the other hand was cruising down the self destruction plan to pay heed. 

"Sure," was my reply as I interlocked our palms. At the dance floor, Philip coiled his hand around my back in a straightened position. I fumbled around. "Now would be a great time to tell you I don't know this," I said, gazing at everyone swaying besides me. 

"You don't know how to count?" he asked, leaning over. "Its simple one two three steps. Follow my lead."

I stared hard on the floor and his almost reflective shoes as he took steps. One two three.

"Look up at me, if you are looking down." Philip soft command was a blow to my already ravaged self esteem. I looked up only to reeling back into an emotional rollercoaster thumping in my chest. Philip was like an addiction. One which tempted me to fall back time and again, knowing it wasn't healthy.

"You are doing better," he simpered and led on. His palm enveloped over mine. The place melted away under his gaze. It was only us, dancing to the symphony of percussions and strings. "Daisy," he purred.

My insides ignited as I leaned closer, bridging our gap. I felt his toned abs against me. It took every shred of self restrain to not lessen our distance further. Focusing on his dewy face, carrying a hint of stubble, I leaned away at step three.

"Yes Philip," I answered, when he pulled me back, mentally and physically. 

His throat bobbled. He sighed, turning his head to a side. The merriment I was enwrapped in was about to end. 

"I am sorry for my behaviors," he dipped and pulled me into the cage of his body and arms. "I shouldn't have behaved the way I did. I should have helped you with the books and notes and not ask you to leave."

"Then why did you?"

With force, Philip shut his eyes and dug into his lower lip, reddening them to the point of bleeding. "Because.."

"Yes, Philip.." I was desperate for him to state the reason. So darn desperate that I was speaking to wade away silent moments.

"Because of.."

"Can I cut in?" The slender figured lady in red smiled at us. 

Suddenly the magical hold over us disappeared. Philip took a slow bow, his eyes twinkled at my replacement. His girlfriend intervened Philip's confession and with that, I was left with nothing. Pain radiated inside my chest and flared through my eyes.

The bartender saw me coming a mile away to stack shot glasses. "Hope this helps," he patted my knuckle that held the brimmed glass in its grip.

One after another, I guzzled the content like it was water. With the last of the glasses emptied, I leaned over the table and groaned in a soft tone. I would cry and wail in my room later but that was the dessert. Drinking was the cathartic pre show.

When someone held my back, I didn't bother looking. Nobody, who was a stranger, would attempt touching me in a crowded place. The ones who knew about my state, were a few. Truth be told, only one.

"Take me home, Lindo," I whispered. My head leaned on the table and the heaviness of my eyelids won their contest with my mind to stay awake.

~

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