Page 2 of Over Time Advantage

Amanda and I share a bemused glance. Reggie is on her A-game tonight.

It takes a moment, but Beckett gets his big body settled in his seat and then easily pulls Amanda onto his lap. “My wife looks edible tonight.” He then loudly whispers in her ear, “I’m ready to go home and peel this dress off you, cherry pie.” She melts in his arms and nuzzles her nose into his neck.

Yep, this is my life. All my closest friends are madly in love, and I’m always the fifth wheel without a prospect in sight. My most intimate relationship is with Häagen-Dazs.

“She’s a single woman, not a single mom. Harper isn’t looking for a daddy, Fallon is,” our friend Cassandra loudly announces.

I look around to make sure no one can hear her resounding voice as we sit at our table at the fundraiser. Cassandra is filterless and always says what comes to her mind, regardless of her surroundings.

Seated with us tonight are Trevor and Cassandra Knight, parents to Harper’s other best friend, Dylan, as well as Darian and Jackson Knight. Darian is Cassandra’s forever friend, while Jackson is Trevor’s father. Yep, do the math on that. It means Cassandra is more than twenty years her husband’s senior. They completely own it and don’t give a crap about what people think of their massive age gap.

Unfortunately, my love life appears to be the hot topic tonight. Cassandra has already confiscated my phone to set up a profile page on a dating app she downloaded.

I glare into her blue eyes, which contrast beautifully with her shoulder-length black hair. “If I’m looking for a daddy, does that mean you’re Trevor’s mommy?” I ask cheekily.

Trevor, who is gorgeous with dark brown hair, green eyes, and a muscular physique, smiles widely. “Ooh, maybe I’ll call you Mommy when I breastfeed later.” He flicks his tongue suggestively.

Jackson, who’s physically an older version of Trevor, makes a look of disgust. “Ugh, can we get back to talking about Fallon’s love life, not yours?”

“Love life?” I scoff. “I have no love life. I found myself licking a Snickers bar upside down yesterday just so I could feel the veins.”

The whole table erupts in laughter before they pepper me with question after question to fill in my dating profile. They then decide to fill out my information without my input, as if I’m not seated right here. As if it’s not my profile.

My head is starting to spin. Why is everyone in my life obsessed with finding me a man? My mother, my friends, all of them. Hell, even Tanner, my ex-husband, mentioned to me this week that I should be dating more. Yes, I’d love to meet someone, but that’s easier said than done.

I’m not sure people realize just how damaged I still am from my marriage and subsequent divorce. It’s not easy to love someone who doesn’t love you back. It’s not easy to beg for the attention of a man who cares more about his job than you. I don’t think I could ever again take the heartbreak I felt when my marriage fell apart. If I were to ever seriously date again, it would be with a man who leaves the office at five and never gives it another thought.

JETT

I head out to the expansive balcony just to get some fresh air, immediately loosening my bowtie when the warm, late summer breeze hits my face. I don’t know how I get talked into these events. I could strangle my agent and best friend, Leo, for making me attend tonight.

He begged me to come to this fundraiser. “It’s for the sick children,” he pleaded while telling me the people at my table would donate $10,000 a head to sit with me, a Hall of Fame quarterback and current NFL coach. How could I say no to that?

What I didn’t expect was that he and his wife were setting me up with one of her friends. I doubt Bijou is the one for me. Is that even a real name? She tried to help me pronounce it ten times, and I still couldn’t do it. She then wrote it out for me, which only confused me more. Then she wrote it phonetically, which made it worse because it’s bee-zhoo.

With the buzz of the party now dulled to a bearable level, I plop down on one of the oversized, cushioned lounge chairs overlooking the expansive country club grounds as I run my fingers through my brown hair, which has officially begun to go a bit gray. How did I get here? A divorced forty-seven-year-old man with an adult daughter who barely speaks to him and a teenage son with mental health and codependency issues since his sister abandoned him and his parents divorced.

Lying back on the chair, I replay every bad decision I’ve made in my life. There are too many to count, but the biggest was marrying Ginny. A one-night stand that lasted twenty years because she got pregnant with Kennedy that first night. It’s been twenty-six years since the night that changed my life. I don’t regret it because it gave me my kids, but spending my life with the wrong woman will forever be at the top of my list of regrets.

I’m wallowing in misery when a bright blue blur flies by me. A small blonde woman reaches the end of the balcony and screams into the night, “Ahhh!”

I can’t help but let out a laugh. I’d like to do the same thing.

She turns around wide-eyed while clutching her chest and gasping. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was out here.”

Wow, she’s beautiful. Why couldn’t Beeezooojooo look like this woman? She’s familiar though. Maybe I’ve met her before.

I wave my hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. You just eloquently expressed exactly how I feel about being at this event.”

She smiles, and it’s a thing of beauty. “Worst. Party. Ever.”

I nod in agreement and point to the lounge chair next to me. “Want to hide out here with me while we commiserate?” I hold up a bottle of wine. “I grabbed this from the bar. It happens to be a decent bottle.”

She bites her plush, red-painted lower lip as if in contemplation. I have a sudden desire to bite that lip too.

Wow, where did that come from?

“Umm, okay. If you don’t mind. I need to chill out for a few minutes so I don’t murder my friends.”