Page 3 of A Lucky Shot

Emily (Hanson or Harris idk) blonde, 5’7”, 8/10 head, spanking. Not his preferred kink, but as long as she didn’t want to escalate, he could play.

He twisted his lips in thought. Isabella had a killer ass, but Emily was a professional cheerleader.

hey beautiful. wyd?

You, hopefully <3

Excellent.

CHAPTER ONE

CASS

If she’d forgotten her phone again, she was sewing a new pocket into every pair of her pants so she’d have no excuse not to have it attached to her body.

Cass rooted in her bag, shoving gum wrappers and receipts to the side. She could almost visualize herself grabbing it before she had left the set that morning. Or was that yesterday? She dropped her eyes from the lights where she waited for the red to turn green and rooted deeper.

It’s not like she needed her phone at this exact moment. Brunch was always the same time, the same place, and up until the last couple of years, the same five people. She wasn’t expecting an urgent text, but still. It could happen. Her friends wouldn’t be wondering where she was yet. Fifteen minutes late was almost early.

But her sister might call. Or her brother. Or the head of costume on the tv show Cass was working on, wondering where the design portfolios were stashed. Which were probably on the floor of the wardrobe closet. With her phone on top of them.

Shoot, or maybe she left it at her sister’s place after babysitting last night?

She blew a loose curl out of her eye. Maybe there was a scrunchie in there, too. Her fingers closed around the case, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

Now, where did that leave the design portfolios? It didn’t matter, she could head back after brunch and find it. Unless it was at home.

Double shoot.

A car horn blared behind her, and her eyes popped up to the now green light. It couldn’t have been more than a two second delay, but she still mouthed Sorry! into the rearview mirror as she lurched her truck forward. The finger in reply answered her.

“Dick!” Libby yelled out the truck’s passenger window. Her best friend sat back in her seat, unperturbed, wedging her toolbox more securely between her feet. “It’s barely noon. How hot can his date be?”

“It was my fault. What if he’s late to his daughter’s birthday party or something?”

“His inability to prepare does not make an emergency on your part.”

Cass passed her phone to Libby without taking her eyes from the road. “Did Terry say we need to come back to set later this afternoon?”

Libby tapped in Cass’s passcode from memory and scrolled. Her face scrunched. “Nope, but it looks like Raina can’t make it again.”

A familiar disappointment settled behind Cass’s breastbone. This was the third brunch in a row Raina had blown off. “Why?”

“Her husband is sick, and she needs to stay with the kids.”

Last time she bailed, she had needed to bring her daughter to a Mommy and Me ballet class. The time before that had been an emergency trip to the craft store to make party favours for her son’s birthday after her husband had done the unthinkable and bought Superman plates instead of Spiderman.

But kids ranked over friends. Every time.

“Of course. Understandable,” Cass said softly, and pulled up in front of the diner. At least now she wouldn’t have to sit through another of Raina’s monologues about Cass and Libby getting back into the dating pool. The shallow, toxic dating pool. At least she assumed it still was.

Chatter and the clinking of cutlery poured through the diner’s front door, and the familiar scent of sausages and hash browns wafted over her. While the staff had rotated through a hundred university students slinging greasy breakfasts between classes, the yellow paint and black-and-white tiled floors hadn’t changed since before she could tie her shoes.

Cass waved at the line chef through the pass-through window, who smiled back. They’d gone on a couple dates a few years ago, but Cass broke it off when he insisted he wasn’t looking for anything serious. The awkward introduction to his new girlfriend when they ran into each other at the grocery store a few months later proved he was fine with something serious. Just not with her.

He still slipped extra slices of bacon on her plate as a gesture of goodwill.

More bacon instead of lame dates watching him play acoustic guitar? A decent trade, honestly. Besides, it stopped being weird seeing him several situationships ago.

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