Page 17 of Margo and the Faux Good Luck Beau
“Sounds like a real catch,” I say sarcastically.
“If you like catching flies.” She claps her hand over her mouth as if afraid someone overheard.
I shake my head. “If anyone asks, you said, ‘If you like matching ties.’”
I get a big smile. “I have a younger brother too, Gerard. For a while, he went by Gerd.”
A gastrointestinal disorder comes to mind.
“Our parents gave us names that are not nickname-able.”
Maybe I’ll come up with one.
She says, “Anyway, Gerard is a himbo.”
“A what?”
“Look it up on the internet later. Anyway, he married a national carwash chain heiress and fancies himself a social media influencer. They travel all over and take photos of their life, what they eat, wear, and that kind of thing. I guess it’s cool to see what he’s up to, but there’s also a kind of hollowness. Like I’d much rather hang out with Gerard and hear about his adventures directly from him rather than filtered for the masses. You know?”
“Don’t touch the social media stuff myself.” But I am touching her, the softest feather in my arms as the song flows between us, making this dance feel familiar, comfortable, something we’ve done before.
“You’re a professional athlete and you’re not on social media?”
I shake my head. “My manager pretends to be me when there are things to reply to or report.”
“The last time my phone gave me a screen time report, I was horrified, but I tell myself I’m on social media, building connections as I try to build my business. It’s like an obsession.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“You’re a stronger man than I.”
I glance down at her lovely curves highlighted by the mint green gown. “Margo, you are very much not a man.”
Her cheeks turn a pretty pink as we glide along the dance floor. “Sorry. I’m babbling.”
“You’re entertaining me.”
“I’m not sure if that makes me sound like a court jester. In my family dominated by strongly opinionated women, I’ve always been the comic relief character. The sidekick or the one they measure themselves against to boost their egos.”
“I assure you, it’s a good thing.”
“You don’t look entertained. You look, well, like a grizzly.”
“Ted is the bear on the team—our defenseman. Ted ‘the Bear’ Powell.”
“You’re the goalie. You guard, protect.”
Without thinking, I draw her closer.
“Something like that. My coach recently told me to smile sometimes.”
“I haven’t seen you smile once. Not even when I called my brother a himbo.”
“Sounds like a real winner.”
“My family are a bunch of gold diggers which leads me to us. I’m sorry about all this. But I have to ask, why did you change tact? It seemed like you weren’t going to go along with it, which I understand since it’s totally wacky. I’d told them I had a date and acted rashly when I saw you.”
The song ends and someone announces it’s time to toss the bouquet.
