Page 58 of Going All In

“He’s supposed to be in Las Vegas for a tournament this weekend.”

She frowns. “Seriously, Holly? He goes out of town, and you go on a date with another guy?”

Okay, I’ll admit it. This is not a good look. I haven’t even told JJ about the bet, have I? Maybe she’d understand.

“So… Maddox made me a bet a few weeks ago,” I start.

Her eyebrow lifts.

“The deal is that if I bring a date to the wedding that I’m in love with, he’ll give me fifty grand. If I lose, I’ll agree to date him. And I’m doing that anyway, but just think of how far fifty thousand dollars would go for some of our foster kids. We could set up programs. I was even thinking I could get my own place and maybe apply to have Julio come live with me.” The words come out in a rush.

JJ’s eyebrow goes higher and higher as I talk, and by the time I finish, she’s shaking her head. “This is the dumbest idea you’ve ever had, Holly. Your heart’s in the right place, at least as far as the kids are concerned. But just think of what it’ll do to Maddox. I’ll set up this one, but that’s it. And you have to tell him.”

I bite my lip. “I’ll come clean. I promise.”

* * *

I’m supposed to meet Zachary at Salvatore’s for dinner. My mind keeps circling back to the time Maddox and I had dinner there, and each time, I do my best to shake the thought loose.

I’m wearing a dress of JJ’s— one that actually holds my boobs in, thank fuck—and kitten heels. Zachary’s profile didn’t explicitly state how tall he was, so there’s a good chance he’s on the shorter side. I am too at five feet, three inches, so a shorter guy isn’t a problem unless I show up in five-inch heels. Honestly, a shorter guy isn’t a problem at all. He’s not a real date. He’s a means to an end, and if he seems cool, I’m going to lay all the cards out on the table tonight, be upfront with him.

We’re meeting at the restaurant. The Uber drops me off at four minutes till seven, and I make my way inside. I don’t see anyone who matches the profile picture. The hostess shows me to a table, where I busy myself with arranging my utensils while I wait.

Zachary shows up right on time. It’s not quite meeting outside the venue and walking in together, but it’s a hell of a lot better than my first date of this whole saga, who showed up so late that I started to wonder if I’d been stood up.

“Holly?” Zachary asks, holding a hand out in greeting.

I stand from my chair, noting that he’s a good four or five inches taller than me, but not much more than that. Glad I skipped the five-inch heels. “Hi. Zachary? It’s nice to meet you.”

We shake hands, and he slides into the chair opposite me.

“So, Holly, tell me—”

The waitress chooses that moment to appear at our table, brandishing a list of specials. “Tonight, we have a salmon poached in butter and white wine…”

I only half listen as she drones on, but I’m grateful that she showed up when she did.

What was he going to say?Tell me about yourself? This is a date, not a job interview. Then again, the way I’m playing things, it kind of is a job interview.

We place our orders and hand the menus to the waitress, who walks away, leaving me alone with Zachary.

I pick up my water glass and bring it to my lips. “So, Zachary, what do you like to do?”

Yeah, it’s a boring question, and not a great date question. But I’m hoping he’ll ramble for a bit, and I won’t have to talk about myself.

Sure enough, he takes the bait. “Well, I have a dog that I love to adventure with. His name is Oscar.” Zachary pulls out his phone and swipes through things, then turns it around to show me a picture of a Saint Bernard. “He’s my best friend. I’ve had him for about two years. Before that it was…” He swipes some more and shows me a picture of a dog that looks identical to the first. “Rosco. It was hard getting used to Oscar. He’s just so different from Rosco.”

“Mmm,” I reply. What else does one say in this position? Those are two pictures of the same fucking dog. You’re not going to convince me otherwise.

“What about you, Holly? Do you have any pets?”

I shake my head. “No, no pets.”

Zachary’s earnest look deflates. “Not even, like, a hamster?”

“There’s the occasional rat in the basement of our apartment building, but other than that, no pets allowed.”

He brightens. “That’s something!”

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