Page 58 of Wingwoman
Damn. Maybe I’d had one too many to drink tonight. I wasn’t usually this blunt. At least, not with people I’d just met.
For the first time since this conversation started, she leaned in, mischief glinting in her eyes. She ran a long fingernail down my forearm and gave me a sultry look. "Is thatyourgoal tonight?”
"Hell no," I said without thinking.
Next thing I knew, I was soaking wet and sticky, and she was storming out of the steakhouse. Her Appletini dripped down my face and shoulders, leaving a syrupy residue.
"Shit," I muttered to myself. Hope was going to kill me. And if I was being honest with myself, this was the first time I'd ever actually broken my promise to her. I wasn't trying on this date. Not at all.
Because Iknew. I knew that Hope was the one I needed. I just neededherto realize it for herself. And I was fed up with the whole charade. Date after date, knowing it was a waste of time.
Money couldn't convince her to do this. Even the prospect of an extra thirty thousand dollars hadn’t made her jump on it. Jealousy wasn't enough motivation for her. She had seen me on these dates time and time again, and nothing seemed to move her to want to advance this relationship.
There was literally nothing I could do other than keep going as I was and hope she honored the terms of the bet.
Or was there? Maybe shewasthe jealous type… but she knew there wasn’t anything to be jealousofwith these dates because the chemistry was nonexistent. Maybe if she saw me really connect with someone, she’d whistle a different tune.
Besides, after meeting her father and future stepmother, I think I finally found my angle in. Smirking, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Matt.
In order for this plan to work, I was going to need a clean shirt and a wingman.
Arealwingman, not the woman I wanted to win over.
* * *
Matt and I got to Raul’s just as the bachelorette party was finishing up dinner. Which truly, it wouldn't have mattered if we had missed them. Because I knew they were supposed to be headed to Splash Zone next. Although, knowing Hope, she probably already had a plan to get out of that.
Lucky for me, I ran into Vivian first as she was coming out of the restroom.
“Hot damn,” Matt muttered beside me. “She’sgoing to be Hope’s stepmother?”
I elbowed Matt hard in the ribs. “Dude. Be cool.”
But I knew what he meant. Vivian might be older than us, but she was still stunning. And her outfit, tight as it was, left little to the imagination.
Seeing me, Vivian’s eyes went wide. Only they were quite a bit more glossy, and her face was far more flushed than it was a couple hours ago. Even though she was exiting a restroom, she held a half-empty margarita in her hand.
"Josh Gabriel!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. Half of what remained in her margarita glass sloshed over the sides and landed with a green splat on her fringed white boots.
"Oh no," she whined, glancing down at her shoes. "These were brand new."
"Maybe it won’t stain?” I offered, though it was weak at best.
“Aw, sugar!” She bent down trying to wipe away the stain with the palm of her hand. But the angle bending over only caused more of the margarita to slosh out of her glass.
With a frustrated grunt, she stood back up and stomped her stained-boot-clad foot against the wood planks of the floor. “Well, crap on a cracker.”
Sugar? Crap on a cracker?I smiled, thinking Vivian would have gotten along great with my mother.
“I don’t think a Tide stick will fix that,” Matt said.
Someone remind me why I invited him along?
“No, I don’t reckon it will,” Vivian responded. After a final sigh, she smacked my arm like we were old friends. "Unfortunately, I've ruined many suede clothing and accessories by spilling a margarita or two!"
I pressed my lips together to stop the snicker that was rising. "Do a lot of imbibing, do you?”
“Not as much anymore! Not since I met Rick. He's a recovering alcoholic, you know.”
