Page 83 of Pity Present

The paper had better give me a bonus for going through this hell. But then it occurs to me that Molly is my bonus. I had no intention of meeting anyone that I wanted to date, but she stumbled and tripped her way into my life, and I’m absolutely smitten.

As soon as I sit down, I see Molly walk into the room. She looks radiant in yet another black cocktail dress. She’s busy chatting with a shorter woman and they don’t stop talking until they reach me. Molly looks nervous and I immediately wonder what’s up.

I lean in to kiss her, but she pushes me away, saying, “B … Blake, hey. Hi.”

Uh oh, is she having second thoughts about us?I move away from her and say, “Hi. Who’s your friend?”

Molly looks like she’s on the border of a panic attack when she says, “This isn’t my friend, this is my sister, Ellen.”

“Ellen!” I greet with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. “How nice to see you.”

“Why?” she demands with her fists resting on her ample hips. Her stature reminds me of a correctional facility officer in a bad B movie.

“Because you’re Molly’s sister?” This comes out more a question than a statement.

“I’m not that happy to meet you, Blake,” she tells me.

Molly hisses under her breath, “Give him a chance, Ellen.”

I pull a chair back for Molly to sit down while Ellen takes care of herself. I have no idea what’s going on here, but I sense this isnot going to be an easy meal. Once we’re seated, the winning charade team starts to show up.

Emberly stands by an empty chair and stares at me. “You’re part of the first couple of the event?” She sounds totally disbelieving.

I stand up and pull her chair out for her while saying, “Emberly, I’d like you to meet Molly.” Then I tell Molly, “Emberly and I played charades this afternoon.” With a pointed look, I add, “Trina promised everyone that the winning team could eat with us and ask us questions about being the first official couple here.”

Molly looks like she just swallowed her tongue. “Oh.” After I sit down, she leans into me and says, “This is horrible timing.”

I’m not sure why she’s upset, but I can only guess she likes making a spectacle of herself about as much as I do. Which is not at all.

One other person from the winning team shows up. He introduces himself. “Hey, I’m Aspen. I’m a ski instructor in the winter and a barista in the off-season.”

Molly’s sister announces, “Two of you at the same table? Doesn’t anyone make their own coffee anymore?”

It’s obvious that Ellen has decided not to like me, and now I have my first inkling why that is. She doesn’t like my career choice. Little does she know that I make an awful cup of coffee.

Hoping to engage her on a topic that she finds interesting, I ask, “What do you do, Ellen?”

“I write forChicago Windmagazine,” she says proudly. “I wrote a piece on the Elk Lake Lodge when they first opened.”

Beads of nervous sweat immediately pop up on my forehead. I’m here on assignment working for the same freaking paper. The only reason Ellen doesn’t know me on sight is because I’ve only been in the office a couple of times. Holy heck. I have the worst luck.

I somehow manage to choke out, “That sounds very interesting.”

Molly interjects, “Blake enjoys writing, as well.” It’s clear she’shoping to help us find some common interest. Which, now that I know where her sister works, is the last thing I want to happen.

“What do you write?” Ellen asks, like she’s pretty sure I find signing my own name a challenge.

“I … um … well …” I’m starting to sound like Molly. “I’m thinking about maybe writing a dystopian love story.”

“You can’t be serious.” Yeah, she’s not impressed.

“With a sports angle,” I tell her. “I love sports.”

Ellen’s eyes narrow to slits as she asks, “There’s something about you that’s familiar.”

“You might have been into the coffee shop where he works,” Molly tells her. “Perky Cups?”

“Perky Cups? That’s not the name of a coffee shop in Chicago.”

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