Page 84 of Pity Present

“How do you know that, Ellen?” Molly grumbles. “Have you had coffee at every place in the Loop?”

She scoffs. “No, but I do get my bras at a place called Perky Cups in Wrigleyville.”

Holy crap.That must be why the name popped into my head. I must have walked by it or something.

Molly turns to me. “You live in Wrigleyville.”

Before I can think of how to dig my way out of this hole, Ellen announces, “You really do look familiar to me, Blake. What’s your last name?”

I blurt out, “Walker,” at the same time Molly says, “Walsh.”

Ellen pushes her chair back and stands up like she’s going to attack me. “Blake Walsh?” she barks. “I know who you are and you’re no barista!”

Molly looks at me with pleading eyes, like she can’t believe I lied to her. “I can explain,” I tell her.

But before I can do so, Ellen shouts loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “He’s a reporter! We work at the same newspaper!”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

MOLLY

I stare at Blake as confused as if I were trying to solve a calculus problem. Which would be a real stretch for me, as the farthest I got in math was trigonometry. “You’re a reporter?” I lash out.

Before he can answer, another woman at our table stands up and accuses, “You’re not looking for a relationship! You’re here to spy on us so you can tell everyone how pathetic we are!”

I’ve been so caught up in the fact that Blake lied to me, it didn’t even occur to me that he’s here in an official capacity. “Do you even work at a coffee house?” I ask.

Shaking his head, he says, “No, I don’t.”

“So, you’re not here to find out how to help single people meet one another?” He shakes his head again. “You’re writing a story about Trina’s event?” I can’t wrap my head around that.

“That’s why I’m here,” he says. Then he looks at Ellen and adds, “I was instructed to remain incognito and not tell anyone who I was.”

Ellen visibly blanches but she remains silent.

“I told you that I would never date another liar,” I yell. “And you assured meyou weren’t one.”

Blake’s face pales. “I neverwantedto lie to you.”

“If you don’t want to lie to someone, Blake, then you don’t lie. That’s all there is to it.”

“I couldn’t tell you the truth …” He doesn’t seem to know what to say after that, so he simply looks at me with a pitifully pained expression on his face.

Ellen decides this is the perfect time for her to rejoin the conversation. “Sportswriters make decent money.”

I turn my head in her direction so quickly I nearly get whiplash. “Are you for real?” I shriek.

Ellen shrugs. “At least he’s not a barista.”

The other barista at the table, Aspen, wants to know, “Dude, what’s wrong with being a barista?”

My sister responds, “Nothing if you’re twenty and you’re hard at work getting your engineering degree.” Not knowing when to leave well enough alone, she asks him, “Are you twenty, Aspen?”

“I’m thirty-four and I think you’re a real witch,” he tells her. Honestly, he’s not wrong. That’s exactly how she’s acting.

It’s my turn to go after Ellen. “Are you saying that you think it’s okay for me to date Blake now?”

“Yeah, why not?”

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