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Lola chirps in, “But they can be fun.”

Mimi runs her finger down her beer suggestively and snarks, “If they’re not just a bratwurst with shit for brains.”

Well, these bitches sure are putting a damper on my sexy mood. I quickly ask, “Surely, one of you have had a good one night stand.” I expect one of them to answer with an ‘Of course’, but they all seem busy in other things right now. Mimi sips her beer. Tina checks her phone. Lola coughs and blinks as if fighting through a really bad memory. Nat just looks up, lost in thought. I nudge Nat. “Well?”

She shushes me. “I’m thinkin’, all right?”

Steely determination runs through me. I sip my drink ‘til it’s finished and announce, “I’m going to be the one to prove y’all wrong.” I shuffle out of the booth and stand. “I’m going to have the best one night stand ever. It’s going to be hot, and not messy. We’ll shake hands afterwards and it won’t be weird. At all. The guy will have a ten inch cock, and well,” I concede with a shrug, “probably shit for brains, but his dick will make up for it.” I smile a small smile as I describe what I’m looking for. “He’ll be tall and built, and have dark hair and smiling eyes. And a dimple.”

Crap, you just described Max! Take flight!

I fight the flush with all I have. “I’m just going to go find him. Right now.” My dress swishes around my legs as I walk away.

Probably shouldn’t have worn a thong tonight.

Oh my God, I know! It’s so uncomfortable. I have to force myself not to try to pick out this never-ending wedgie. Instead, I think of other things, like dogs riding skateboards and chipmunks eating things with their widdle teethies.

I make my way downstairs to the bar. I spot him immediately, and I sigh. “There should be a warning sign above this bar.”

He grins. “Oh yeah. And what would it say?”

“Something about eye candy and killer smiles, I’m sure.”

Sherriff chuckles. “You flatter me, Lena.” He reaches over the bar and slowly and leisurely kisses my cheek. “How you doin’, beautiful?”

The last few times I’ve come to The White Rabbit, I’ve spent more time than I should have at the bar. Truth is, I have a teensy crush of Stefan the Sherriff, the barman. And it all started at Nik and Tina’s wedding. What can I say? He’s just something else—dirty blonde hair worn at a length that borderlines too long, sexy, warm brown eyes, a body I like to watch work the bar, and an easy smile. But best of all, he’s easy to talk to. He listens intently and shows it by asking questions and getting involved in what you’re saying.

He’s super sweet. Any woman would be thrilled to call him hers. I sit at the bar talking to Sherriff and drinking the drinks he makes me. I can taste less and less alcohol in my cocktails, but smile knowing he’s trying to look after me. Before I know it, it’s ten thirty and I still haven’t seen Max.

My head feeling light from the countless drinks I’ve had, I ask, “Where’s Max?”

Sherriff answers on a shrug. “No idea. He should be here.”

My haunches rise as I add another dot point on my shit list against Max. Point five: Slacker.

Whatever. I move off of my stool, and just as I’m about to say goodbye to Sherriff, a hand on my forearm stops me. I look up, and all I see are green eyes.

“Helena? Helena Kovac?”

I frown. How the hell would someone know who I am in New York? I step back and assess the situation. The man standing in front of me wears a gorgeous, wide smile. He’s at least a foot taller than me. Not as tall as Max. Shut up, brain. He’s extremely fit and has no hair—as in, Baldy McGee—but it looks good on him.

He holds a hand out to me. “I know you don’t know me, but you will.”

Okay. Officially freaked out now. Holding a hand up, palm out, I step away again. “Don’t. Stay where you are.”

He looks down at me in confusion before realization crosses his face. He laughs out loud. “I’m sorry; I shouldn’t laugh, but…but I just realized how that sounded. Okay, let’s try this again.” He straightens, holding his hand out once more. “Hi, Helena, I’m James Whittaker.”

My mouth rounds into an O. This is my new boss?

Schwing!

Still holding out his hand, he explains, “I recognized you from the photo you sent for your identification tag, which I actually have in my car.” I bite my lip to hold in my laugh and look anywhere but at him. He cringes. “Yeah, okay, I heard it that time too. Creepy as hell.”

I laugh and step forward. “I’m sorry for freaking out, but you sounded a little stalkerish. Sorry.”

I place my hand in his and we shake, smiling all the while. He releases my hand then puffs out a breath. “I probably should’ve just let you be. I’m sorry if I made our first meeting awkward.”

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