Page 21 of The One I Want
“Oh, I know. My youngest is very big into pinky promises these days.”
Betsy holds up her pinky. “Well then, you should be used to it.”
I look down at her finger then back up to her. Am I really about to do this? I’m thirty-five years old, for fuck’s sake. It’s one thing to do it with Magnolia…
“I’m not going to pinky promise you.”
“Well then you must not intend on keeping your promise. Just wait until I see Magnolia and tell her. What would she think of that?”
“Using my kid against me? That’s playing dirty.”
She leans in slightly, her pinky still in the air. “I never said I played nice.”
“Fine,” I groan, holding up my pinky and linking it with Betsy’s. “But only because my daughter is relentless.”
Neither of us let go, though I have to think that we have gone past the standard time for a pinky promise. This is taking me back to the night I picked up the kids and Betsy was there. When I grabbed her arm, it really was just to tell her thank you. But once I made contact with her, I didn’t want to let her go.
Now? I know I need to. I just can’t seem to do it. I might not be looking at them, but I know for a fucking fact that Oliver and Shane are watching every moment of this, and they are going to have some smartass remark.
“Gin and tonic and another beer,” Porter announces as he puts down our drinks slightly harder than necessary. That breaks the spell as we both drop our hands.
“Thank you,” Betsy says to Porter, standing up from her barstool. “And thank you for the drink.”
“My pleasure,” I say. “See you around?”
She smiles, holding up her pinky again. This time, I don’t fight it.
“It’s a promise.”
She lets go much quicker this time and makes her way back to her table. I take a big pull of my beer before I get up and head back to mine.
I sit down, mentally preparing for the shit I’m about to get from my two best friends. They’re both looking at me, but neither are saying anything. For Shane, that’s not uncommon. But Oliver? The man loses to his first graders when they play the quiet game.
“Nothing? That’s it? You guys aren’t going to say anything?”
Shane smiles, holding up his beer and tipping it toward me. “I don’t think we need to say anything. In fact, I promise you we won’t.”
“Yup,” Oliver chimes in. “Wepinky swearwe won’t.”
The two dramatically link pinkies as I roll my eyes.
“It was nothing,” I say. “You don’t even know the conversation behind it.”
Oliver shakes his head. “Don’t need to. We saw everything we needed to see.”
“You have no idea what you saw.”
Shane finishes his beer and stands up, giving me a slap on my back. “You keep on believing that, buddy.”
Chapter9
Betsy
When Whitley offeredme a job with her event planning business, I thought I’d be doing a lot of office work. Emails. Calling vendors. Ordering invitations. That kind of thing. I have training in all those things. From multiple past jobs.
If I would have known that my job description would include tying one thousand balloons to an arch, I would have told her thanks—but no thanks. Being unemployed has to be better than this.
“Shit!” I yell as another balloon slips through my fingers and blows away. It’s not an overly windy day, but man, those suckers take off.
