Page 34 of Employing Patience

“Feel like making a nuisance of yourself?”

“I’m not following.”

I throw a quick glance around to make sure no one is eavesdropping before leaning in. “You’re interested in a certain someone, and it’s possible I might be interested in a certain someone he’s out with.”

Will suddenly perks up.

“You’re also down a best friend, and truthfully, I don’t have a lot of friends myself. And when I say not a lot, it’s basically none. It could be fun to go out, have a dance … maybe accidentally-on-purpose bump into some people we know.”

“I … I don’t know …”

“The way I see it, they’ve gone out for one reason. Now, we can either do nothing and let it happen. Or we can do our best to get in the way of that.”

“I don’t think that’s the way to get their attention.”

I imagine Art’s irritation at having every prospect cockblocked. “Actually, I think it’s exactly the way.”

“It doesn’t matter, anyway. He doesn’t see me like that.”

“Have you asked him?”

“Well, no, of course not, but—”

“Then you don’t actually know.” I wave a hand toward him. “You’re a good-looking guy.” Objectively. “And chances are if you’re only ever hanging around with his son, Keller only sees you as his kid’s friend. He has to see you outside of that. If he sees you dancing all hot and sexy with other guys, it’ll show him you’re someone hot and sexy.”

I can tell he’s thinking about it. His whole face has lit up with hope, and fuck, I’m crossing my fingers I’m right because otherwise I’m going to feel terrible. If it’s my fault he has to watch Keller go home with someone else, that’ll be the fastest-ended friendship in history.

“Molly will kill me,” he says, but it’s clear by his tone that he wants me to reassure him. Which is easy to do because while I get it would be weird to see your friend with your parent, they’re both adults, and they get to make their own decisions.

“Kill you for what? I’m not telling you to try and get in his pants. Just come out, we’ll dance, get their attention, and then I plan to annoy the shit out of Art until he goes home solo.”

“Dance. Get his attention.” Will gnaws on his lip. “I think … I think that’s okay.”

“Of course it is. So you’re in?”

“Looks like it.” He slides his empty glass toward me. “What time do you finish?”

“Five thirty. Then I’ll need to run home and get ready. Wanna book an Uber from here at eight?”

Will sucks down a long breath, and it’s kinda funny seeing a six-foot, muscular, frat-esque dude look so sweet and uncertain. “I guess we’re doing this.”

* * *

I’m nervous the whole way out to Springfield. There’s no real reason to be, but I’m convinced we’ll get there and be too late, or Art will have changed his mind and gone somewhere else, or he’ll see me and laugh in my face about how pathetic and desperate I am.

But I’ve reached the point where it’s time to acknowledge this crush or whatever isn’t going away. It hasn’t passed on like all the others. It hasn’t lessened.

At this point, all I want is to have sex with a man. That man. And hope to hell it gets my head screwed back on properly. Even when I’m not at work, my mind is full of piercing eyes and a teasing smile. His height, elegance, control, and that goddamn filthy mouth.

I want my life back, so it’s time for him to learn all my flirting bullshit … isn’t bullshit.

We pull up out the front of the gay bar, and Will is slow to get out of the car.

“You doing okay?”

“Still walking off those beers from earlier.”

“You only had two.”

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