I chuckled. “How does that work? Wait. Show me. Pretend we’re at a bar and—”
“We are at a bar.”
“Yeah, yeah, smartass. Stay with me,” I chided. “You’re the bartender and I take a seat in your section, order a martini with lots of instructions. Dry, shaken, stirred, dirty, on the rocks, twelve olives, two onions…the works.”
Drew squinted. “That cocktail isn’t possible…or drinkable.”
“C’mon, we’re play-acting here.” I cleared my throat theatrically. “Bartender, it’s been a rough one. I’ll have a martini with—”
“How about a beer, sir?”
“Sounds good.” I waited a beat. “So, this is where you ask about my day, right?”
“No, I don’t do that unless I know you well. Never ask gritty personal questions. You might be my only customer for five minutes before the floodgates open and I’m trying to remember ten drink orders and who they belong to. If I ask you how your day is and it’s bad, you’ll want to unload on me like I’m your therapist. I’ll seem like a real asshole when I have to abandon you to look after my other customers. And to be honest, I’m a little sensitive. If you tell me something terrible, I’ll worry about you while I’m mixing gin gimlets.”
“Luckily, I have relatively lightweight drama.”
Drew sipped his beer, then pointed at the napkin in the middle of the table between us. “Good, but if it has anything to do with water polo, you may want to talk to someone else.”
“Nah, our season is over, and I graduate in May. I still play club ball and help Gabe coach the younger club kids, but that’s fun. No drama involved.”
“So what is on your mind?”
I sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Real life. What comes next. My friend’s dad owns a financial firm in Newport. He wants to hire me straight out of college and…get this. He’s willing to train me this spring, like a paid internship.”
“Congrats. That sounds like a great opportunity,” Drew enthused.
“No, it sounds like a soul-sucker. I don’t know how to get out of it. And I’m wishing I hadn’t mentioned it to my mom because if I don’t take it, she’ll think I’m Peter Pan.” I tipped back my glass and set it on the table with more force than necessary. “I bet you’ll find this hard to believe, but I have a reputation for not taking anything seriously.”
“You? That’s crazy,” he huffed sarcastically.
“Maybe it’s a little bit true, but I know the difference between having fun and putting my head in the sand and hoping the hard stuff goes away.” I crumbled the napkin between us and wiped the condensation from the table.
“Hmm. So…where do you see yourself next year?”
I grinned. “Well, bartender, I’d like to get my master’s too. In structural engineering. I want to build bridges and infrastructure. I want to be the guy who designs the ski slopes and pools. I’m not talking about the aesthetics or architecture. I’m talking about the actual—”
“Engineering,” he intercepted.
I smacked the table excitedly. “Exactly! I’ve always been fascinated by the ‘how and why’ behind impressive buildings. I was the kid who built ginormous Lego creations that in no way resembled what was on the outside of the box. It was like a personal challenge to recreate a fighter jet into a modern skyscraper.”
“Is that possible?”
“Anything’s possible with a little imagination,” I singsonged.
“True. What’s the first step in becoming an engineer?”
“More school and an internship. I haven’t told anyone else I applied to grad school. I didn’t want to jinx it. I’ll find out if I was accepted in February or March. Until then, I’m biding my time and juggling too many balls. And not the fun kind.”
“Now that’s a shame.”
“I know, right?” I thanked the waiter when he delivered our drinks, and continued. “I’m pretending to be interested in a job I don’t want while I wait to hear about grad school. In other words, I’m in limbo. And now I understand what you meant about being careful with your questions. Assholes like me give you their life story with very little provocation.”
Drew snickered. “In your case, I’m interested. You sound like you’ve got your shit together.”
“Do I, though?” I snarked, taking a long pull of my beer.
“Yes, and you’ve obviously given this a lot of thought. Not very ostrich-like of you at all,” he commented wryly. “Where did you apply to grad school?”
“Long Beach, UC Irvine, and UCLA. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck.” He smiled warmly.
“Thanks. What about you? What happens after you get your degree?”
“In my perfect world, I’ll open a chain of restaurants or bars. I guess I could have tried to make a go of it without the degree, but I needed help figuring out my business plan. Working for Derek has been great ’cause he’s already been through this. I’m getting a crash course in how to build something from the ground up.”