Page 34 of Never Your Valentine

I, on the other hand, do not.

My heels click across the wooden floorboards. They’re too sharp, too loud. Here, people shuffle around in winter boots that squish from melting slush. I unbutton my coat to reveal club attire—a shiny gold top, a short black skirt, tights that I’m regretting because my legs are freezing.

Lia’s eyes widen. Then she snorts. “Annabelle. Honey. No.”

June puts down her drink and covers her mouth. “Were we supposed to dress up?” she asks through her fingers. “Did I misunderstand the assignment?”

I take off my long wool coat and drape it over the back of my chair, trying to do it casually, like my outfit is totally normal for a weeknight at a townie bar. I sink into the squeaky stool they’ve saved for me, feeling like a cocktail olive dropped into a mug of hot cocoa. “I thought girls’ night meant something else.”

“I have an extra sweatshirt in my truck,” Sophie offers. “It might help…you know…tone it down.”

“No need,” I say. This is what a total doofus wears on Thursday nights. I checked my outfit with Kat over FaceTime before I left my apartment. Wrong move. I should have checked with Lia. She’s the one who lives here.

“Don’t listen to them,” June says. “That top is amazing. And check out those shoes. You look important.”

“I’m not,” I say. “At all.”

Sophie turns to Lia. “I thought you said she was famous.”

“Aren’t you?” Lia asks.

“What? No.” I sit up straight. “Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re chronically online, and Robert said you send mail to movie stars.”

“That’s just marketing. I don’t know any movie stars.”

“Weird,” Lia says. She’s halfway out of her seat. “I’m getting another Superior Storm. Should I make it two?”

“What’s a Superior Storm?”

“Local beer. It’s what’s on tap tonight.”

“Sold.” I try to give her cash but she waves it away and heads to the bar. Blake Neverly is working tonight. Interesting that Lia organized a night out at the place where the “worst Neverly brother” happens to tend bar. Double interesting that she took one look at my clothes and insisted on being the one to get our drinks.

Lia plants her palms on the bar and starts talking, her expression sharp like she’s scolding Blake. He keeps pouring beer, peeling his eyes away from Lia just in time to stop before the glass overflows. He leans toward her wearing a joking expression. She flashes a credit card at him, but he refuses it and grabs two more beer glasses.

“Have you seen Annabelle’s Insta?” June asks, pulling my attention back to the table. “She has so many fans.”

“It’s impressive,” Sophie says.

“That’s just content,” I tell them. “So I can sell cards. Honestly, I’m hoping the famous people notice me.”

June tilts her head. “Like, the world’s first celebrity greeting card designer?”

“That could be a thing, right?” It would be an awesome thing. A dream-come-true thing. But right now, I’ll settle for a cards-pay-my-bills thing.

June puts a hand to her heart and gives a dramatic sigh. “Until then, you’ll just have to toil in obscurity.”

“Yeah,” Sophie says dryly. “You and your eleven thousand Instagram followers.”

June shakes her head. “I don’t know how you do it. If I don’t actual-pants know someone in real life, I’m not letting them follow me.”

“No, I get it.” Sophie says. “It’s just business.”

“What’s just business?” Lia has returned with our drinks.

“Social media,” I tell her.