Page 15 of The Pursuit of Her Happiness

She gives me a genuine smile, her eyes lighting up. “Polk, you got a date, too?” She leans in conspiratorially, giving me a mouthwatering view of her cleavage.

“I do.” Sitting back, she frowns momentarily but smooths it out and smiles again. That little blip gives me hope.

“That’s great. I’m waiting for mine, he’s a few minutes late, though.” She swallows hard, looking at her phone for the time, then glances back up at me. “Who’s the lucky lady? Where’d you meet her?”

“She’s a friend of the club.” She nods, tilting her head as she thinks it over. “She’s close with Audrey.”

“Hmm. I didn’t think Audrey had many friends.” Her eyes widen and she laughs. “That came out catty as fuck, didn’t it? I just mean, Audrey’s never mentioned anyone else that she’s friends with who would be close with the club.” Waving it off, she says, “Anyway, I hope you have a great time tonight. You should probably get to your table; you wouldn’t want to give her the wrong first impression.”

“And what would be wrong about it?” I push.

“Uh, well, you’re sitting at a table with another woman. And Ralph will be here—”

“He’s not coming.”

“I know he’s late—”

“Quinn. Ralph the electrician isn’t coming.”

“How do you know he’s an electrician?”

“Because he showed up to your date in his work van. I sent that fucker on his way.”

“Thank you? Polk, that wasn’t your decision to make.”

I lean across the table, noticing the hitch in her breath, the way her perfect tits heave with nerves. “Is my decision. Tired of you going on these ridiculous dates. Tired of waiting.”

Her cheeks flush, her voice croaks, “What?”

“You’re mine.” Dammit. Too strong! Pull back…no, I can’t. She needs to know how I feel.

“That’s absurd! Polk, you’re…you. And I’m me.” She splutters, “I’m older than you.”

“Three years, Quinn, nice try.”

“I have three kids. Three active, obstinate, messy, toilet-breaking boys.”

“They are those things, but they are also smart and funny with big hearts. They get it from their mama.”

Tears fill her eyes, and it breaks my heart. She shakes her head, no doubt willing the evidence of her emotions away. “I don’t even have a belly button!” She blurts out, loudly, and I can’t help but laugh.

“Good,” I manage to get out. “Never liked belly buttons. They smell and collect lint.”

“Polk, be serious,” she hisses and I’m happy to see anger instead of tears.

“Dead fucking serious, darlin.” I reach for her hand that’s on the table and turn it over to lace our fingers together. “More than a year, Quinn. I’ve watched you pine for Ford, follow him around like a puppy begging for scraps. Then he smashed your heart into little pieces, and you decided to start dating.”

Her eyes promise fiery retribution as she spits out, “My heart was not smashed. It is intact, thank you very much. I don’t need Ford; I don’t need anyone!”

“I know you don’t. But I need you!” Her mouth falls open as she slumps into the booth, her hand still in mine. I squeeze it once. “Do you have any idea how aggravating, how fucking painful it is to listen to you recount date after date?”

“You never said—”

“You’ve never looked at me.”

“Oh, Polk, I’ve looked. A lot, actually. But…but…I never had a chance—”

“You are all I’ve thought about. Since I met you. But you weren’t available.”

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