Page 49 of Because of Her

“It’s okay,” I say with a smile, running both hands over my face as I try to calm my body down. It does nothing for the aching between my legs.

Reaching behind me, I grab the roses and hand them over. “Your flowers.”

He laughs as he grabs them. The rumble sends a shiver down my spine. Pulling his phone from his back pocket, he hits the button to pull up his card.

I hate charging him for flowers, but at this stage I can’t afford not to. His $60 bouquet isn’t even 10% of what Amira and I need to pull together.

Speaking of …

“Do you have any single friends?”

Callum folds his arms, the flowers dangling by his hip.

“For Amira,” I clarify. “I have an … idea … but she wants me to find her a date.”

Dropping his hands to his sides, Callum’s shoulder’s tremble as he puffs out a breath.

“No one who could handle her.”

I thought as much. The only person I know with a strong enough personality to handle her and her family, is my cousin. But he would never go for it. She never told me why she needs a date, but if it means I can expand Betty Blooms in the way I hope, I won’t question it.

Callum steps back towards me, planting another soft kiss on my forehead before he turns to leave. “If you need, I’ll find someone. I’ll round up every single guy on this side of the city if it gets you what you need. As long as they aren’t there for you.”

There’s no hiding the blush that forms at his words. After today, I don’t think I’d want them there for me anyway. The man I want is already here.

CASSIDY

Bass beats in my ears and my eyes strain to see around the flashing lights and dim tables.

The thought of dinner and dancing with Amira, and the girls from her work, felt draining, but I couldn’t say no to celebrating with Amira. I’m only here because it’s her birthday. Noah is only sitting next to me because I called him at the last minute, demanding he come with me as a social buffer. The two of them have been bickering all evening. I plan to slip out after dinner and avoid the crossover as the trendy restaurant fills with club-goers.

“Here’s to thirty,” Amira cheers as we all hold up our tequila shots, “And to being forced into marriage.”

Unsure what to say, we throw back our shots in sync. Her birthday isn’t technically until next week, but her parents always steal her away for family gatherings, so we are celebrating tonight instead. Although with that news, celebrating doesn’t feel like the right word. No wonder she wanted me to find her a date.

Noah chases his shot with a long draw of his beer, slamming the now empty glasses back on the table. I spin my margarita straw around the fancy glass. No one speaks, as we all look to Amira for clarification. Because I’m sure she said she was being forced into marriage, but even for her parents, that feels intense.

Amira pulls her own drink toward her, tapping her fingers on the stem of the glass. The clique ofbarristers and waitresses from Amira’s work start to ignore the awkwardness, chatting and giggling at the other end of the table.

“What do you mean?” I lean in, but still have to raise my voice to be heard over the music.

“My father thinks thirty is too old for a woman to be single,” Amira groans. “So if I’m not in a serious relationship before my cousin’s wedding, he is going to find one for me.”

Her face scrunches up.

“When’s the wedding?” Noah asks, leaning into my personal space to join the conversation.

Amira leans over her margarita, her face in her hands as she takes a long sip.

“Three months.”

My brain stops functioning, because even with all I know about her father, I can’t comprehend him giving her a few months to find a serious relationship.

“If only my life was a romance novel,” Amira mumbles after taking another long sip.

“How so?”

“Some man could come in and pretend to be my boyfriend just to shut my father up.” After finishing her drink, she leans back in her chair. “Who knows, maybe we’d even fall in love.”

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