Page 22 of The Prince Who Loved Me

Her mind blanked at his statement. Did she suddenly need an escort? Was she incapable of conducting a simple business transaction? “I’ll see you later, okay? I have a date tonight. Thanks for lunch.”

***

Brandi had been able to leave the house without her mother inspecting her wardrobe this time, so she was much more comfortable in some dark jeans and a silky t-shirt. She got out of her car at the barbeque joint and scouted the parking lot. Earl said he’d be waiting next to his truck, easily identified by its oversized tires. She spotted it above the roofs of the other cars.

She turned her review mirror to check her reflection. “Here goes.”

The wheel tops of Earl’s truck reached his hips. He stood in front of the opened trunk lip, his hand on a cooler. “You must be Brandi.”

“Hi, Earl.”

He had easy-going features, highlighted by the scruff on his jaw. His Bulldogs ballcap shaded his eyes and covered most of his dark hair. “Want a beer?”

He opened the cooler and held a bottle out to her. She shook her head.

“Suit yourself.” He popped the top off using the side of the truck and guzzled half. “I like to pregame for these kinds of things.”

For dates?

Declining invitations used to make her stomach turn over, and if the guy asked why not or to give him another shot, she had always capitulated. No more. Life was too short to waste on bad dates.

“This isn’t going to work,” she said. “Good luck.”

“Yeah, okay.” He looked at his phone. “My buddies are coming by soon anyway.”

“That’s…great.” She went back to her car, shaking her head. The women from Valicente’s restaurant had asked her to fill in on bar rotation if her date went poorly. So off she went. Probably earlier than expected, but it was better than going back to Fountenoy Hall and seeing disappointment from her mom that she left another man unsnagged. Sebastien had been texting her random things that made her grin all day, but she was still hurt by his words earlier.

Hanging out with these women couldn’t be any worse than meeting those men.

Beyond Wendy and Jordan, she hadn’t had a group of women friends since the softball team at the University of Georgia. She hadn’t expected to find some on dates, but she wasn’t arguing about it.

Paisley and Charlotte were already there and waved her over to the bar. The light from the bar reflected on Charlotte’s small diamond earrings and her bracelets.

“You made it. Welcome to the Not-Gullible-Anymore Women’s Club.” Charlotte raised a glass of something clear. “First round is on me. What’ll you have?”

Brandi scanned the bottles on the shelf, looking for Belle’s orange bottle. There it was, on the second shelf. Eulalee had started reaching out to locally owned bars and restaurants a few years ago, opening up a new avenue for distribution.

Tonight, however, Brandi wanted something without fumes. “Water for now. Thanks.” She shrugged out of her coat and sat down at a stool. “Is he here tonight?”

“Haven’t seen him yet,” Charlotte said.

“From what we gather, Cris only tags people the first couple of days that they’re on the site.” Paisley tucked a lock ofher straight brown hair behind her ear and leaned forward. “We think he figures they’re so new, they’ll believe anything he tells them.”

“Some of us did,” Charlotte said dryly. She raised her glass in a toast and shot it back.

“We were celebrating three months of our first meeting when we saw you walk in. You looked so fresh and new and hopeful. We didn’t want him to sour that.”

Not desperate, in that low-cut shirt. “So you soured it for him,” Brandi said with a grin.

Charlotte laughed. “Yeah, I guess we did. Should I apologize?”

“No. Actually, it was fun messing with him like that. Knowing what he was going to say and why he was saying it? Worth it.” She took a sip of the ice cold water the bartender gave her. “And you’re spot on. Cris was only my third date since reactivating my account. And the sad thing is he was great at conversation and making me feel special.” Like Sebastien always did. Mostly did. Going beyond her looks, showing interest in what she said. Usually. “But I guess he wasn’t looking for anything long term.”

“Six hours is too long term for him.” Paisley plucked the stem of the drink’s cherry and popped the fruit in her mouth.

“I appreciate the save. Actually, I’ve met women so catty when they think I’m with their man that they would have surreptitiously videoed the whole date and then posted it online with nasty comments.”

Charlotte put her hand out. Paisley put hers on top, and Brandi followed. “We definitely look out for each other here,” Charlotte said.