Page 31 of Third Time Lucky

‘I think you’ve done enough.’

‘Oh my God, Luce. I was kidding!’ she laughs. ‘Please, don’t be mad. I’ll pay for dinneranddrive you home. He was only a suggestion.’

A suggestion. Next time, text those to me; don’t invite them into my life unexpectedly. I’ll tell her that later.

As I hang up, Tanner is downing his drink in one swallow. That’s a bit of an ex-frat boy giveaway.

‘Emergency?’ he asks.

Wow. He’s done this before.

I nod. ‘My hamster. He’s not got long, and I’d hate for him to be with strangers after all he’s done for me.’

The smile he first greeted me with slowly grows on his face, reminding me that while he isn’t engaging in the slightest, he is handsome – a waste of a good face.

‘Your hamster,’ he says with a laugh. ‘That was good. Honest opinion?’ he asks as he stands, tossing a fifty-dollar bill onto the table.

‘Uh— sure?’

‘I read people – family gift – and I don’t think you’ve got to worry about the next one breaking your heart. It seems pretty guarded,’ he says. ‘However, take off your blinders because I predict the third time will be a charm for you.’

He reads people? What in the heck does that mean?

‘Youpredict?’ I ask with the most disbelieving tone ever.

Had he been interesting like this ten minutes ago, maybe I wouldn’t have had to drag my imaginary hamster into this.

He nods. ‘I’m never wrong.’

I’m not buying that for a second.

‘Shall I set a reminder to text future you so you can keep track of your bet?’

He shakes his head. ‘Completely unnecessary, I’ve got no question about it. You hate love, but you also crave it – always keeping an eye out for Mr Right – and I am not him. Your third try is the one that will end the way you want.’

How offensive that I’m this easy to read.

‘What if there is no number three? Maybe I’ve permanently given up at two?’

He chuckles. ‘Good luck with that,’ he says, giving me a military salute and heading out the door.

My jaw drops in confusion. What does any of this mean? He has a family gift of reading people? Is he some kind of psychic? If he were, he wouldn’t have had to ask if this was going anywhere.

But I don’t have time to think about that because a vaguely familiar man has danced through the bar as he made his way to my booth and is now sliding in across from me still rocking to the beat, staring at me like he’s got something to say.

‘May I help you?’

‘You like Flock of Seagulls?’

‘No. But I’ve felt like running away since I walked in here, so perfect mood music.’

‘You’re Lucy Gray, aren’t ya?’ the stranger asks, grinning at me oddly.

‘Perhaps…’

‘I’m here!’ Madi says, rushing through the front door and stopping when my table guest turns her way.

‘Well, well, well,’ he says, his attention averted.

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