“That doesn’t matter!” he says. “It’ll just be a small, low-key thing.”
We dress up and get to Dock Bar.
“Who else is coming?” I ask.
“Nobody seems to be able to make it,” he frowns, barely concealing his frustration.
“That’s okay,” I say. “It’s very short notice. You’re literally inviting people same-day on a weeknight.”
Timmy nods, but then frowns. “Shit, I meant to ask my boss if she’d mind paying me a few days early.”
He taps at his phone and keeps checking it every few minutes.
“Ugh, she’s not replying. I bet she’s going to say no.”
He seems agitated until his phone finally dings. He frowns again. “She fucking said no. I don’t know why she’s being like this. It’s not a big deal. She can afford to pay me early. I just wanted her to give me a little bit of an advance. The truth is, I’m not going to have enough to cover our drinks, let alone food. I don’t want you to pay for our engagement party, especially when it was my idea. It doesn’t seem right.”
Then his eyes grow wide, as if a lightbulb is going off in his brain. “Wait here, I’ll be right back.”
“Timmy, where are you?—.”
“Be right back, I said. Trust me.” He kisses me on the top of my head and zooms out of the restaurant, leaving me alone at the bar.
About fifteen minutes later, he returns with an average-looking guy, friendly enough, but with an energy that makes me slightly uneasy. “This is my old boss, Parker,” he introduces us. “He lives right around the corner, and he’s a good friend of mine.”
Parker grins and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I smile.
While Parker orders himself a drink, Timmy leans in and explains Parker is going to pick up the tab for our ‘engagement celebration.’ He also mentions that Parker has just taken shrooms.
I feel wary. Nobody else has agreed to meet us for this engagement party.
The bartending team is really nice, and they comp Timmy and I saucers of champagne, congratulating us, but I can’t help but notice the weird looks a couple of them shoot my way.
I’m a little confused as to why Parker was randomly invited to our celebration—Timmy has only had negative things to say when he’s mentioned him previously—but I figure he lives close by.
I’m also suspecting it’s because Timmy’s boss said she couldn’t pay him today, and, as it’s beginning to become clear, Timmy has absolutely no more money than what he earns from day to day. So, Parker must be willing to pick up the tab.
After settling our tab, we all walk to my apartment and take a seat on the floor. “Oh, I have some furniture you could have that would fit nicely in here,” says Parker.
“Oh really? That would be awesome! Thank you so much,” I smile. “People are so generous here helping with apartment setups.”
“You should take my number, too,” he says, giving me his details. “Just in case you need to talk to someone other than Timmy. Because you probably will.”
It’s kind of weird, the way he worded things, but he’s right in pointing out I don’t really have any friends here yet other than Timmy. Having a backup emergency number seems sensible. It doesn’t seem like he’s being creepy, although the way he winks to emphasize the point makes my skin prickle. I smile politely, hoping it’s just his sense of humor.
We chat for a while, and then all of a sudden the tone changes. There’s a weird energy between Timmy and Parker. They suddenly start getting snippy with each other over basically nothing—something about whether Parker got fired or whether he voluntarily left,and whether they were peers or if Parker was Timmy’s supervisor, and then it turns into a full-blown, heated argument.
Parker storms out of the apartment, and about twenty minutes later, Timmy and I glance over and see Parker’s keys looped around one of the kitchen cupboard handles. He calls Parker and puts him on speaker, and Parker starts screaming and swearing at Timmy. “You’re such a fucking loser asshole, stealing my keys. Bring them here, you fucking thief!”
We walk back toward Parker’s house, and Parker calls me. “Where are you guys?”
“Almost to your place. Can you walk and meet us halfway?”
“Maybe. Put Timmy on the phone,” he demands.
I say “okay,” and then give the phone to Timmy.