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“You’re mouthy, eh? I like that.”
“Well, I don’t like you, so how about you leave us alone?”
He puts his hands up and smiles again. “Meant no harm. Just hard not to talk to the prettiest girls in the bar. Have a good night.” He walks away.
“See? That’s why I don’t bother with guys most of the time,” I tell them. “They’re all like that.”
“Not the guy with the book. He’s not bothering anyone.” Isla, always with the good points.
“It doesn’t matter. Olive, take your shot.”
“I’ll take a shot,” Jeanette says, showing up out of nowhere and snatching one of the discarded kamikaze shots on the table.
“What about your pair of Prince Charmings?” I ask.
“Less Prince Charming, more frog. They didn’t want to take me someplace to hook up. They wanted to hook up in their car. I’m no prude and I do my yoga to stay as flexible as possible, but there’s no good way to have a three-way in a sports car and it’s too cold to do it on top of one. Honestly, no class.”
The other two roll their eyes at her while I snort a laugh and shake my head. “Your life is different from most people.”
“Such is the tragedy that is most people. Have you talked to the hot guy at the bar yet?”
“Book Guy? No.”
“I was gone for ten minutes. That was plenty of time. Go.”
I sigh and chug some water. Seems a better choice than more alcohol. More alcohol might make me talk to him. “Jeanette, let’s do darts.”
“Let’s dohim!”
I laugh. “Why won’t you let this go?”
“Tell me you’re not intrigued by a guy who brought a book to a hook-up place.”
“Okay, yes, but—"
“I will make you a deal. I will go with you and strike up a conversation. If it’s weird or the vibe is off, we leave, and I swear I won’t bug you about this kind of thing for at least an hour.”
“Just an hour?”
She shrugs. “Okay, two hours.”
“The rest of the night.”
“Fine. The rest of the night.”
It’s the best offer I’ll get out of her, and I know it. As much as I’m sure I’ll regret this, bothering a random guy is less trouble than dealing with a persistent Jeanette. “Let’s go.”
“Yay!” She claps, then snatches my hand and takes the lead. On the way there, he looks up from his book. I like the way his lips curve when he sees us heading his way, though, that could be on account of her.
I’m not anything to sneeze at, but she’s dripping money from her designer clothes to her pricy haircut, and I’m a schoolteacher with working-class parents and it shows. He might have been into her all along, for all I know. Or he could have a nervous tic that made it look like he smiled at me before. Crap. This is a bad idea. “Jeanette.”
But she can’t hear me over the bar noise while she tools me through the crowd, and by the time we’re anywhere she could hear me, it’s too late. We’re standing next to him. She flashes one of her million dollar smiles at him. “Hi there. Evan, right?”
He smirks. “Hi. And no, I’m not Evan.”
“I would have sworn I knew you from somewhere. The McCall’s Christmas party?”
For a moment, he looks startled. But he hides it fast. “I’m afraid not.”
