Page 56 of Savage Promises

“Especially now that drunk bonehead from earlier is gone, huh?” Mara says, wiping down the bar with a fresh cloth.

“Don’t remind me.” I cringe, thinking of the nightmare customer who was harassing women on the dance floor.

He probably had too much to drink, but Liam handled him, tossed him out on his ass.

“Here’s to hoping movie theaters don’t start serving alcohol.” Mara lifts a shot and swigs it back, her jet-black curls a chaos around her slender face.

My eyes wander to the VIP area where I offered Shane a perfect backdrop for his proposal this weekend. What the hell was I thinking?

I want him to propose to me. And that’s a dangerous thing to admit.

Mara’s jade green eyes narrow on me. “You seem off. What’s up?”

I hesitate, but she’s my best friend. There’s no point in hiding it. “It’s Shane.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “Mr. Tall, Dark, and Mob Boss-y?”

I let out a half-laugh, half-sigh. “If by dark you mean deadly, yeah. Him. But you left off one detail. He’s my sister’s fiancé.”

Mara finishes making a dirty martini for a woman at the end of the bar and sets down the shaker. “You’re still in love with him, aren’t you?”

The admission sits heavy in my chest. I stare down at the red-orange swirls in my drink, avoiding her gaze. “It’s worse than that.”

“You fucked him?”

“No.” I nearly knock over my drink. “You think I would do that to my sister?”

“I guess not.” She gives me a once-over. “You wouldn’t be so moody if that breathtaking man was laying his pipe deep in your oil field.”

“You missed your calling.” I clear my throat. “Ms. Poet.”

Mara leans in, her tone dropping to something darker. “You’re better off. You and I both know that world.” She grew up around here with me. “It’s dangerous. Not just for your heart, but for your life.”

“I can’t flip the switch so easily this time, Mara. I’ve tried.”

She taps her finger on the bar thoughtfully, then brightens like she’s had an idea. “Hey, give me your phone.”

I blink up at her. “What? Why?”

“You need to date. Distract yourself.”

I hold my phone protectively against my chest. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Trust me. You’re not going to do it yourself, so I’m doing it for you.” Before I can protest, she snatches the phone from my hands.

“Mara!” I start, but it’s too late.

Her fingers are already flying over the screen, downloading an app. “Here,” she says triumphantly, giving the phone back to me. “You’re live and already getting views.”

“Really?” I groan at the profile photo she chose. “The black satin catsuit from the Halloween contest last fall?”

“You looked so hot in that thing. Guys will know it’s a costume.” She waves me off.

“By the number of hits coming in, I doubt it.” I scroll through the profile names and photos. “This is ridiculous. I’m not doing this.”

“Oh, come on,” Mara teases, leaning on the bar. “Some of these guys are hot. Look at him. Blond, great jawline, nice shoulders. Probably not tied up in organized crime. Or engaged to someone else.”

“Mara,” I groan. “I’m not in the mood.”

---