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"Unless you have a better one."
I chew on my bottom lip, conflicted. I always knew Fanny hated me, but I used to think Mr. Allred liked me. He invited me to movie nights, let me tag along when the Allreds took their boat out on the lake, and paid for a limo to drive us to every high school dance we attended. I didn't know he thought I wasn't right for his son until the summer before senior year. I overheard him and Cash talking when they thought I was in the bathroom. He told Cash I was a pretty girl but that I wasn't ambitious enough to be a surgeon's wife. I've always known I'm not as ambitious as Cash. I mean, not many people are. Cash wants to save lives. Me? I want to own my own business someday. My dreams don't include holding a scalpel or curing cancer, but they're just as important.
"Earth to Blondie," Wilder kicks me under the table.
"What?" I grumble.
"You come up with a better plan?"
"I... " but I trail off. I don't have a better plan. What other choices do we have? Walk up to the table and ask Mr. Allred why he's on a date with someone other than his wife. Or secure photographic evidence that he's a cheater.
"Confront or blackmail?" Wilder taps his fingertips on the white tablecloth.
I lift my chin. "Blackmail."
Wilder raises both eyebrows. "Blackmail it is, then."
I watch as Wilder slips his phone out and discreetly snaps a few photos of Mr. Allred and Clementine Church. Then, he texts them to me.
"Now what?" I frown as I scroll through them.
"Now, we wait for the right opportunity to present itself," he crosses his arms over his chest.
"And when will that be?"
"You ask too many questions, Blondie," he smirks. "Can't you just go with the flow for once?"
"I'm the one who always goes with the flow," I remind him. "How many idiotic things did I tag along for?"
"You complained every time," Wilder tries to hide a smile.
"I just wanted to be alone with Cash."
Wilder sits up straighter. "We've broken every friendship rule you made for us, and we haven't even gotten our food yet."
"No," I shake my head, "not every rule."
"I can show it to you," he waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
"I'm good," I say as I grab my drink and pull it towards me. "I don't want to break any more rules tonight."
"I'm pretty sure rules are meant to be broken, Blondie," he argues.
"Did you really sleep with Isla?"
Wilder's eyes bore into mine. "No."
"Then how do you know about the birthmark?" I wonder aloud.
"Frank," he divulges.
I grit my teeth. "What did Frank the Fornicator do now?"
He chuckles. "Frank the Fornicator?"
"It's a long story," I shudder.
"Frank the Fornicator drank too much at the bowling alley and started telling everyone about Isla's birthmark. According to Frank, she likes doggy style, and he likes to stare at her birthmark while he fucks her. He also mentioned that your dad lost his job and you guys might lose the house."
