Page 82 of The False Flat

“Deanna,” Grant said, “I love you and your food, but my girl needs clients, and this stuff will clinch the deal.” He pointed to the barely touched pudding in front of him, and I tried to hide my serving by tossing a pastry on top of it.

Her mouth dropped open. “How dare—”

“And give the B and B thing a rest. Invest with Pen, and it’ll come.” Grant winked at me.

“When Pen will let me invest with her!” Deanna tossed her hair—she was becoming irritatingly persistent about the B and B—and turned back to her conversation.

She and I had discussed investing, but I’d been hesitant. I didn’t want money to ruin our friendship, something I valued more each day, but I also knew what I could do. I had a binder with her name on it already. I just needed to make it official.

I squeezed Grant’s arm and leaned into him. “I keep meaning to tell you: I have access to Deanna’s Pinterest page. She has a board called ‘Future B and B.’”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It means I have pictures of exactly what Deanna wants her B and B to look like.”

His eyes sparkled in the moonlight. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

I nodded—I didn’t feel amazing—and looked back at Fred and Doris. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

“You can ask them when they come by your office to discuss their fortune.”

Hand to chest, I gasped. “They’re coming to my office?”

“Yeah, baby! See what I can do for you?” He winked. I’d told him Chad had said this during his disastrous proposal dinner, and we’d been dropping the phrase, a little guiltily, into conversation whenever it fit.

Chad had called, several times, but I’d made a clean break. I also hadn’t answered my mother’s calls since my last trip to Minnesota. I was compelled to listen to her voicemails, though. They held accusation along with sadness that made me feel unsteady, like my stomach was in an unending cycle at the laundromat.

“Should I walk away with both our puddings?” I laughed and reached for his serving, but he didn’t try to stop me. “What’s wrong?”

He arched his back. “My back. It’s bothering me again.”

I started to suggest he should see a doctor, but this was back pain, which likely would resolve on its own, and doctors were full of bad news. He didn’t need to see a doctor. He needed rest, a relaxed schedule. He needed me to be the girlfriend I’d never been and care for him.

“Maybe you should go home.” I wanted him to feel better more than I wanted him here. “I need you in tip-top shape for game night tomorrow night, so we can beat the pants off William and Deanna.”

“Oh, I’ll be ready,” he assured me.

I leaned in closer, sliding my hand up his thigh, just shy of his crotch. “Maybe before they arrive, I can take your pants off.”

“If you move your hand any higher, I’m going to take you on this table in front of all your new clients.”

“Promise?”

“So you won’t let me feed you in public, but you’ll let me take you on a table?” He reached for me, but I pulled away, determined to torture him, and he winced.

“Your back?”

He waved my concern off. “Shh. Don’t let Will and D hear you. It keeps getting better, but that monster ride the other day set it off again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Show-off.”

Erin and Beau walked up.

“You should go see Piper,” she said, having apparently overheard our conversation.

“No!” I said. “She does things.”

Erin rolled her eyes. “Umm, yeah. That’s her job, and she’s amazing. She worked on my neck, and it was orgasmic.”