Page 11 of Shaken Knot Stirred

I looked back down at the phone, scrolling to the end of the conversation.

Tick tock. Tick tock.

Time was running out.

The three dots next to Payton’s name popped up just as I started typing. He must have seen that because his dots disappeared.

My thumb hovered over the send button.

I backspaced and erased ‘I think I met someone.’

Ultimately, it would not matter. What was I going to do, roll into the Delta Lounge and pop the question to Moxie?Oh hey girl, my inheritance is on the line. Wanna pack up?

Everything in me wanted to dash the phone on the cheap tile. I got out of Port Haven so I could have some space to think about things. I’d done none of that. All I’d been doing was reading trashy vampire novels and lusting secretly after a beta bartender.

The phone pinged again.

Pay:

we’ll break the rules and let you choose… arms? gas? wind?

I smirked. Winston’s head was probably exploding over that. He didn’t tolerate rule breaking, especially his own. Payton had won last year, and the year before that, so rightly, it should be his choice. He had picked arms for two years running. Win absolutely did not want to lose another arm-powered row boat race and had secretly hired a personal trainer for a chance at victory this year. I had picked gas the only year I had won. Win preferred gas, speedboats, too.

I typed out my message and hit send and pinched my lip, waiting for their response, which was immediate.

Me:

I’m thinking of skipping the races this year.

Pay:

WT actual F

Win:

Alistair…

Pay:

absolutely fucking not

Win:

Let’s talk about this.

Pay:

Where the fuck are you? You’re not at your apartment. I’m going there right now.

The phone rang. I powered it off and set it down on the counter. I licked my lips again. It was still too early for happy hour. I’d have to be patient for another taste of Moxie.

Chapter 6

Moxie

I must have dozedoff at some point because now the birds were chirping rudely as if it were a bright and shiny day. I dusted off the dead leaves and poked my head out. Still alive, so that was great.

I cautiously made my way down the ravine to double back toward my trailer. It was slow going, every little bird chirp made me jump. Beg Knightbridge wasn’t the kind of guy to camp out in the woods at night. He was infamous for his lack of patience. He would have given up a long time ago, wouldn’t he?

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