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“Where’s Jada?”
“Oh, well, get yourself a wife too.” I shove his arm, and he chuckles. He removes his suit jacket, rolls up his sleeves, and transforms into a semblance of the college student I used to know. “Nah. It is a lot of work. And this is just an after-work beer. I’ll be going home to help her right after this. But Jada understands it’s your birthday.” There’s no point in reminding him it could be a Tuesday and he’d still meet us for drinks after work. “By the way, birthday girl, Jada mentioned she knows someone she’d like to set you up with. Divorced dad. Insta family.” He raises those eyebrows and looks at me as if to say I should give it some serious consideration.
“Thanks, Liam, but I don’t do blind dates.”
“Why not? You know Jada wouldn’t do you wrong.”
“I stopped doing blind dates circa two thousand and twelve.”
Oliver joins us and slides beers across the table.
“I second that,” he says. “It’s much easier to go onto an app and find someone. You go on a blind date and you gotta explain everything to your friend who set you up.”
“Cindy still asks me about you,” I say and raise one eyebrow pointedly. I don’t even really know her, given she’s maybe twelve or thirteen years younger than me, but she still reaches out.
Oliver holds his hand out as if I have presented him with evidence. “See! This is what I’m talking about. I say, sure, I’ll go with your friend on New Year’s Eve. And half a year later, I’m being asked about going out with her again.”
I give Oliver the stink eye, because I am pretty sure he was doing someone else on New Year’s Eve.
Oliver continues to text someone. Likely the girl he’s been seeing. I haven’t pushed him too hard for information, but if he continues being secretive, I sure as hell will. We tell each other everything. Or top line everything.
Liam excuses himself like a dutiful husband, and I pull out my phone to text Noah.
Me to Noah: Sure you’re not up for a drink?
There’s no response. He could be busy working. He’s in the restaurant business, and it’s Friday evening.
“Can you stay out for one more round?” Oliver asks.
“I don’t know. It’s late.”
“Come on. It’s not that late. One more round, then we’ll pick a spot for dinner.”
I cock my head, questioning his persistence, but he’s already up and heading to the bar. His head is down over his phone, texting away.
I scroll through Instagram, liking everything from everyone, until Oliver returns with three beers.
“You thirsty?”
He just grins. “How’ve you been since Polly?”
“Huh?” Oliver’s a good friend, but he’s not one to bring up uncomfortable topics.
“I haven’t asked,” he says a tad defensively.
“I miss her, but I’m doing good.”
“You want a new horse?”
That question makes me laugh. “No. I mean, maybe one day, but for right now…” Right now, what? I want a reprieve from the obligations of caring for a horse, but yet I want to be a single mom? That’s about as clear as mud.
Oliver picks up his phone and stands, scanning the crowd. “Back toward the wall. Outside under the lights.”
I scan the crowd, searching for Noah. He must be here.
But the smile breaking through the crowd doesn’t belong to Noah.
No, it’s the youngest Duke. Ian.
