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“Nothing.” Her smile is sly yet innocent, which pretty much sums up her entire personality. Only the innocence is bullshit. “And hypothetically, if I looked, I’d scour the entire internet for that meat sword. Hours, Avery. Hours. Paul didn’t know what got into me. Newsflash, he did.”
“Gloria!”
“What?” She shrugs and takes a small sip of her drink. “Your boyfriend has a giant meat sword. You should be proud.”
“I’ll make sure to give it an award,” I grumble as I rub the sides of my temples.
Can I be twenty-two and too old for this shit?
I haven’t told Gloria the nitty gritty details of my relationship with Foster, owner of the aforementioned meat sword, and I’m sure as hell not telling her or anyone that I took a job as his glorified escort.
Foster needs me to keep up this charade to secure his spot with the Devils, and I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.
Especially when we’re both benefiting from our arrangement.
I pull my lip gloss out from my small vintage clutch and toss it back on the side table. As soon as I finish applying it, Mason kicks his legs along his colorful play mat and fusses. Gloria moves to get up from the couch, but I swoop down and grab him from the floor.
“Looks like someone is done with tummy time.” He gives me a look that says he was never about tummy time and runs a hand along my face and through my fresh gloss. “I guess we didn’t like that shade of pink.”
“It looks fine. I’d say you’re going to knock all the hockey players’ socks off, but I know we both know you only have eyes for one of them.”
“Thanks, Gloria. I don’t know what I’d do without your help.”
The sarcasm in my voice is thick, but Gloria doesn’t bat an eye; she just smiles and takes another sip of her ginger ale. We both know it’s true anyway. I’m way better off with her in my life, and I’m not afraid to admit it.
She’s exactly the kind of person I wish my mom would be if she were still alive.
“You’d be just fine without me, but I do feel like I add a little bit of flair and excitement to your life.”
I start to reply but am cut off by a sharp knock on the door. My breath catches in my throat, and my heart rate kicks up a notch. But it’s okay, because I’m in charge of myself. I know what this is, and what this isn’t. I can go to this hockey game and it won’t be any different than any other game I’ve been to.
Before I can make it to the door, Gloria is pushing me out of the way and pulling it open with a big smile on her face.
“Hello, there. Can I help you?” She fluffs her short blonde hair, preening like a cat.
On the other side of the door stands an older man, maybe in his mid-forties, with a neatly trimmed salt and pepper beard, matching chin-length curly hair, and a confused expression. No wonder she’s acting like a teenager with overactive hormones.
He’s just her type.
She married three guys just like him, including Paul.
He looks between us, his gaze landing on Gloria. “Are you Avery?”
She turns to me, eyebrow raised like she’s askingcan I be Avery for the night? I want this man to drive me all around town.
I crack a smile and shake my head, glad she didn’t lead with an assessment of his penis. There’s still time, but maybe I can get out of here before she embarrasses the poor man.
I clear my throat and manage a small wave. “That’s me. I’m Avery.”
He gives me a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he takes in Mason and I. “I’m Thomas Griffin. Mr. Craig hired me to drive you to the stadium for his game tonight.”
Gloria walks by me, snags Mason from my arms and whispers, “You’d better get a move on. You don’t want to be late for your date with the British snake charmer.”
I shake my head, hiding my smile, and lean over to give Mason a kiss on the top of his head. “Just let me get my clutch.”
“Ma’am, Mr. Craig also wanted me to give you this.”
Thomas bends down, and after he straightens, he takes a step into my apartment, holding out a medium sized black gift bag.
