Page 95 of Heart So Hollow

“Brett’s selfish now,” Barrett says with a wave of her hand, “she’s come upon a beautiful man with great wealth and she refuses to share any of it.”

I stifle a laugh. Barrett talks about Bowen like he’s stepped off the pages of some mafia love story or a secret billionaire romance.

“Share what?” I slide the strap of my black tank top further up on my shoulder, “And what money? He works a nine to five, just like I do. More, actually.”

“Except he bought you a brand-new car,” Barrett quips with a twinkle in her eye.

“But is he a good guy?” Anna scrunches up her face, looking back and forth between me and Barrett, “Is he a mature partner you can see yourself with long-term? Has he done the work to achieve personal growth and move beyond his baggage?”

Anna’s been hanging around Barrett too long.

“Speaking of baggage,” Barrett turns to Anna, “are you still dating that one guy?”

Anna touches her glass to her lips, “Jesse,” she mutters into her bourbon, “more like friends with benefits. I don’t know, I suddenly heard from him last week after a month of radio silence.”

Barrett bows her head, shooting Anna a look, “Girl, that’s not friends with benefits, that’s a trauma bond.”

“Get off my nuts, man!” Anna shouts, her voice loud enough to draw the attention of the group next to us. “Do you know what the dating scene is like in Lex right now?”

“Probably the same as it is here,” Barrett mumbles.

I laugh to myself, letting my eyes wander around the room. I gaze aimlessly at the chandelier above the bar and follow the crown molding down the wall to the floor. That’s when I suddenly lock eyes with a guy at the next table—the same table who turned to see what Anna was hollering about.

He has a dark fade, with immaculate skin and almond eyes, dressed in fitted dark wash jeans, boots, and black henley pushed up to his elbows. He glances back and forth between me and the guy he’s speaking with across the table. That one has dark blonde scruff and long honey blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun. He’s wearing a black t-shirt with fitted black jeans and pristine black boots.

As subtly as I can, I lean closer to Anna, “These guys over here want to know whose nuts you’re talking about.” Then I shift my eyes to the side.

Barrett and Anna barely steal glances their way when a server appears out of the crowd and sets another gin and tonic down in front of me. I look up with a furrowed brow and shake my head to indicate I haven’t ordered it. The server nods to the bar, tossing his shaggy dark hair out of his eyes.

“Someone sent it over for you,” he says with a wink before turning on his heel and disappearing back into the crowd.

“Since when does anyone send me a drink?” I shoot a dubious glance at Barrett.

“Since you don’t look like you want to murder anyone anymore,” she snorts.

“Hell yeah,” Anna nods, “it was probably one of them.” She flashes a sultry look toward the guys at the next table.

“A lot of good that’ll do them,” I say with a roll of my eyes.

“Why?” Anna isn’t looking at me anymore, she’s leaning back in her chair, surveying the entire group at the table. “You can still introduce us to them…”

I nod in agreement and pick up the glass to set it aside. When I see the napkin beneath it, I flinch in horror, nearly splashing gin onto the table. There’s a simple sketch in the middle of the napkin, about three inches long, drawn with a black marker.

A bee.

A Honeybee.

I immediately cover it with my palm and crumple it into my fist as inconspicuously as possible. Then, careful not to draw attention to myself, I crane my neck to scan the bar. But it’s no use, it’s a madhouse and half the people I see are just silhouettes anyway. And even if the server or bartender could remember who ordered it, which is doubtful, what am I going to do about it?

Before I can consider it further, I sense someone at my shoulder. I turn to my right and see the two guys who have been staring at us from the next table.

The blonde one dressed head to toe in black sets his hand on the back of Barrett’s chair, “You all sound like you’re having a good time, but I just have to ask,” he leans across the table to Anna, “who’s on your nuts and do we need to remove them, by force if necessary?”

Barrett’s eyes round and she partially covers her mouth with her hand to stifle a laugh.

“Told you,” I mutter with an impish smile.

Anna grins proudly from across the table, “No one, anymore,” then she shoots a look at Barrett and reaches over the table, “Anna.”

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