Page 6 of Anchored Love
Everly
Sometimes You Run Into People Who Change Your Life For The Better. They’re Called Bartenders
“What the hellam I going to do, Sam? I have like three weeks to find a stand-in boyfriend. I’m freaking out here.” I shoved a stick of gum in my mouth. It was a nervous habit, and I’d been anxious ever since my brother and Kelsey sprung the whole cruise destination wedding trip on us over Christmas. “I mean, a cruise to St. Thomas is a dream vacation, but I lied. We both know I don’t have any prospective boyfriends waiting in the shadows. And if I show up without a date, Mom will know I lied to her, and we both know how she reacts to being lied to. But if I give in and allow her to choose a date for me, it will be a total nightmare. I can’t go through another disaster date. Especially one that will last a week. Can you imagine? She’d probably set me up with a serial killer or something. My mother doesn’t know a thing about finding me a good man to date. It’s like her radar is totally whacked. You remember that Jason guy.”
Jason had to be the worst of the worst. The moment I sat at our table at the restaurant, he started trying to guess the color of my bra. After that, everything was a sexual innuendo to him. He legit asked me if I would be DTF. Down to fuck. I was no prude, but the guy was a total jerk and not someone I would let anywhere near my panties or lack thereof. I shuddered at the memory of him with his thick gold chain and bad haircut. Not to mention the overwhelming scent of cheap cologne that rolled off him in waves as though he’d bathed in it.
Samantha, my partner in crime and best friend, stared into her salad, shoveling a baby tomato and a crouton out of her way, then spearing a slice of cucumber as she mulled over my predicament.
“Did your mom say who she had in mind?” she asked, tossing the cucumber in her mouth and chewing.
“You know how my mom is. There’s no way I can survive another one of her failed matchmaking attempts. She’s the absolute worst at it, and if I tell her I lied … I’ll never live it down.”
“True. I’m thinking.”
I took a sip of my peach tea and scowled when she didn’t say anything. “Think faster.”
She chuckled, swirling her fork in the air. “What about that one guy, Henry, from the real estate place, Lewis and whatever real estate.”
A sigh escaped. “You mean the good-looking flirt whose photo is plastered on all the billboards. That’s going to be a big fat negative.”
“Why not?” She appeared puzzled.
My brows knitted. “Henry is married with two kids.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
“Yes,” I hissed, remembering learning that little tidbit of information. I felt so dirty for ever flirting back with him.
“How do you know he’s married? Are you keeping secrets from me? I’m your best friend. Dude, you’re supposed to tell me these things.” Sam was starting to get riled.
“Well, you remember that he invited me out for a drink?”
“You never told me you went,” she accused, and I smiled.
“Because I didn’t. I wanted to check him out online before I got there to, you know, see what his interests were so I could make conversation. Anyway, when I found his profile, I saw that his relationship status said married, and there were all these photographs of him and his wife and their two sons. One big happy family.”
“Shit,” she muttered.
I sat back in my chair and flipped my hair over my shoulder. “Right. So you see, Henry isn’t even a candidate. I’m not a home wrecker. Nor am I someone to have sex with on the side. No. No and no.”
“Did you confront him? What did he say? I mean, is it possible they were separated?” She started firing questions at me in rapid succession.
“No way. I mean, he offered to buy me a drink, and maybe I read him all wrong, and he was only being friendly. I wasn’t going to embarrass myself and be allhow dare you invite me out for a drink. Does your wife know?I haven’t completely lost my mind yet.” I laughed, and Samantha glanced at her watch.
“Good point. That would have been fun to watch, though. We should go.”
I checked the time on my phone. Shoot. My break ended five minutes ago.
Shoving my chair back, I capped the lid on my tea and shoved it in my bag. Samantha and I both worked at Boise Financial.
I held a position as a loan officer. My job was to look over financial applications for anyone wanting a loan for a mortgage or to buy a car, a boat, whatever. I had always been good at crunching numbers, so it fit. Plus I got to work with my best friend every day. She was a glorified personal assistant for my boss, but still we were able to do lunch daily, unless she accompanied him on a business meeting which was rare.
I tossed the remains of my sub in the trash, and Samantha followed behind me. We hustled down the street back to our building. I waved at the security guard posted by the reception desk on the main floor. He lifted his chin at us.
The elevator dinged, doors opening. Horrible classical music filtered through the speaker. The sounds meant to be calming only made me feel more agitated.
“It’ll be fine. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” My best friend seemed confident, but I felt anything but assured. Tucking her strawberry blonde curls behind her ear, she shot me her award-winning smile that could melt the coldest of hearts. “The right guy is out there. You’ll see.”
