Page 25 of Pity Present

“What?”

“Ronald is very nice.”

“You can’t be serious.”She can’t be serious.

“Why not? Why would you have picked him for me if you didn’t think we would be a good match?”

Because I don’t want you to match with him.But I don’t say that. Instead, I want to know, “What’s his story?”

“Let’s see.” Molly taps on her chin for a few beats. “Ronald is thirty-four. He’s a computer analyst for the FBI.” My eyes open wider at that information. I’m not surprised the guy’s a computer geek, and the whole working for the feds thing might give him an aura of mystery. I wonder if that’s the part Molly likes about him.

“Let me guess, he’s a spy and he’s here undercover on a mission to save Elk Lake from a communist invasion.” I can’t seem to keep the sarcasm from dripping out of me.

Molly shakes her head. “No, he’s really here looking for a girlfriend.”

“And you like him?”

She shrugs. “I don’t dislike him. Although, I think the whole,” she makes air quotes with her fingers before adding, “’living in his mother’s basement’ is a bit of a red flag.”

“No!” I laugh out loud.

“They have meatloaf every Monday night,” Molly says seriously. Her expression turns concerned as she adds, “But last Monday Ronald’s mom made roasted potatoes instead of mashed and Ronald isn’t quite sure he can forgive her.”

“It’s no wonder there are so many single people in this world,” I say. “Seriously, not shocking at all.”

“Did you have better luck?”

A full body shiver overtakes me before I tell her about Olivia. “Mine was a pet psychic with what I’m guessing might be a personality disorder.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” I tell her. “I hate to be that person, but I think she might also be off her meds.”

Molly laughs in earnest. “Poor Blake. Coming all this way and not finding anyone decent to date.”

Feeling the need to defend my honor, I tell her, “I met a very nice kindergarten teacher earlier.”

Easygoing Molly leaves the room. “Really? Then why aren’t you talking to her?”

Because I’d rather talk to you. Looking for any sign of jealousy, I announce, “Maybe I’ll look for her later.”

“Maybe you should go now.”

Before I can leave, Trina is back at the microphone. “It’s me again!” She signals to the piano player who starts to play an old Frank Sinatra tune. “It’s time to hit the dance floor with the man or woman you’re currently talking to. Don’t ask questions, just open your arms and start moving.”

I take a moment to thank my lucky stars I’m not still talking to Olivia. She’d probably put me in a choke hold. But then I realize I’m going to have to dance with Molly, and while I’d truly love nothing more, I’m not sure having her in my arms is for the best.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MOLLY

Dance with Blake? Yes, please. But at the same time, I’d better not. Without making eye contact, I tell him, “I … I … I … should go.”

He reaches for my hand to stop me. “Where? Why?”

“I think I’ll get another drink.” Although, it’ll probably be water. One martini is my limit if I don’t want to do something I’ll regret around this guy. Not to mention the difficulty communicating I seem to have when talking to him.

“Trina gave us an order,” he says. “And by being here, we’ve agreed to follow the rules.” Blake sounds like a good soldier, which isn’t how I would have classified him. I’d peg him as the rebel type.

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