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“Thank you.”
“Speaking of Manolos, I have my sights set on this really cute pair of white mules with silver buckles.Socute. My girlfriends would be so jealous.”
I look over at her and she gives me a mischievous little smile and a wink.
I feel instantly better. My smile comes easy as I wrap my arm around her and squeeze her back. Distancing myself from ugly reality, I go back to the fantasy world where I’m her sugar daddy and tell her, “Don’t worry, baby. We’ll go shopping soon.”
I don’t think about how close we are to the valet stand or about the possibility of anyone around actually hearing us because it isveryeasy to get lost in your own little world when you’re with Hannah, but when Javi spins around with a raised eyebrow, clearly having overheard the last part of our exchange, I quickly drop my arm and put a little space between us before he gets the wrong idea.
Javi wasn’t here when we got here, so I didn’t expect to see him now.
“We were joking,” I state, even though he doesn’t ask.
Raising his hands, he says, “Hey, I’m not here to judge.”
“We’re just friends. She’s not a golddigger or a sugar baby.”
Amused, he nods. “Got it.”
“Definitely not mine.”
“Weird. I was sure you were a rich old white man. Thanks for clearing that up.”
Hannah puts her hand out to gently interrupt my awkward rambling explanation. “Hannah Dupont. You must be Javi.”
Javi smirks, glancing at me as he shakes her hand. “Have I been mentioned?”
“What? No. I don’t even know your name. What is it again? John?”
“So close.” His smirk grows, making him even cuter, and I decide we should probably end this interaction before I make things worse.
I hand him the parking ticket, my expression solemn. “I apologize for the entirety of this interaction. Please bring my princess her pumpkin car.”
Still smirking, he takes the ticket.
Then he reaches under the valet counter and pulls out a business card. I’m confused as he jots something down on the back of it, and wide-eyed when he hands it to me and it has his phone number on it.
I can’t speak. I can hardly breathe as I look up at him.
“The club’s hiring,” he says, making me realize he heard more of the exchange than I realized. “The whole application process is online. Website address is on the front of the card. My number’s on the back in case you have any questions.” Then, he adds, “Or in case you want it for any other reason.”
I am milliseconds from actuallyexplodingwith a kind of giddiness I have not felt in years, so I barely manage a nod before I turn and hustle over to sit on the bench before I have an actual heart attack.
Oh my god oh my god oh my god.
Hannah hurries over and sits beside me, eyes wide and dancing with glee. “Oh my god,” she whispers. “He totally likes you.”
“But why? Is that a red flag? I have only ever been an awkward, dorky mess in his presence. Why would he like me?”
Hannah laughs and puts her purse on her lap. “Because he has excellent taste, obviously.”
It takes a couple of minutes for my pulse to stop pounding as if I’m being chased by a hungry lion. I still feel jittery and excited as I look down at his neat, masculine writing on the back of this card.
I haven’t liked a guy since I liked Landon, but I think I like Javi.
It’s just disheartening, because right on the heels of that admission is the part I don’t want to admit, even to myself.
I’m afraid to act on it. Not because I’m afraid I’ll be awkward—I will, but he knows that by now—or even because I’ve never gone on a date before and I’m nervous about it.
