Page 7 of Reckless Encounters

Me

Oh don’t act like you aren’t living out your teenage fantasy with your baseball daddy down in North Carolina.

Sloan

Again, can we not with the calling my brother daddy…

Sloan

And Q we will make up for it in the off season =]

Quinn

True… call me once you hear. Love you both

Two

“We’ll take the top shelf margarita in a fishbowl with two straws and an order of the ultimate nachos, please.” I order our usual as of lately. Sloan, Quinn, and I used to do this weekly, if not more often, and it usually consisted of a night full of shenanigans afterwards. But those are few and far between now.

“Wes loves when I come home extra frisky after fishbowl nights,” Sloan says with that chummy smile she always gets when she mentions her husband.

“What’s he up to tonight?” I ask, partially out of curiosity…but mostly because he has recently become closer friends with Parker. Wes originally met him through Eli like the rest of us, but with them both living in Tribeca over the past year, they seem to have developed more of a friendship of their own.

“He’s actually up at King’s Hideaway, finalizing plans for their big event next weekend.” Oh shit, I forgot about that.

Wes’s former agent’s wife was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. So, Wes organized a fundraiser at the speakeasy he owns here in the city.

“I should have offered to help decorate. Is there anything I can do?” I ask, hating myself for being so wrapped up in my own things that I didn’t think to recommend this before.

“No, no, he isn’t even doing much decorating. More coordinating the food, seating, and that type of stuff.” The vibe of Wes’s bar is so cool the décor speaks for itself. The designer, Giselle Armistead, who helped him when he bought the bar, is someone I have always admired in the business.

“You’re still able to come, right?”

“Yes, for sure, I’ll be there.” My mind scans my closet, thinking about which dress will show my legs off best.

“Awesome… Have you checked your emails lately?” she asks, lips pursed.

I lift my phone off the table. “Of course.” Shaking my head, I tell her, “Nothing new.”

“I’m sure it will come through soon. It’s only seven, and knowing Parker, he’s probably just finishing his workday.”

That asshole’s probably intentionally making me wait just to keep me sweating. He loves to torture me.

“Yeah, maybe. Oh well, distract me with something else.”

Sloan chuckles. “How’d your latest Tinder date go?”

“I’ve moved on to Hinge now, and it was a disaster. Only wanted one thing…and ya know that wouldn’t be so bad if he could have carried on a decent conversation prior to.”

Sloan laughs, nodding along. “So what you are saying is, Hinge is full of fuck boys just like Tinder.”

“Basically. I ended up walking myself home from the restaurant and hanging out with my neighbor the rest of the night.”

“You mean, the twenty-three-year-old neighbor you occasionally hook up with?”

I pretend to clear my throat. “Twenty-two.”

When she gives me a look of, I love you, but really? I feel like I need to justify myself a bit.

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