Page 40 of Lady and the Camp
Pure energy shot through my veins. Chattering voices filled the bar area with high-top tables. Many of the booths filled with families and a few with groups of teenagers. This wasn’t exactly a place anybody went to beseen, unlike my rotating lists in L.A. and Nashville. And yet I was grateful. I considered any social event a plus if it didn’t involve a plastic cafeteria tray or banned bug spray.
“We’ll have the Nacho Megaboat,” Maggie recited to the server without glancing at the menu.
“This is a fishing town,” Twila explained. “Everything around here has a boat theme. Oh, and whatever you get, don’t get the chili here. Trust me.”
I couldn’t stop the face I made. “Noted.”
“Shots all around?” Maggie offered, looking at each of us. Twila, the college counselor Jasmine, and the camp cafeteria staff took her up on it. Basically, everyone but me and Lucas, who sat across from me at the end of the table.
“Local beer on tap for me,” Lucas said to the server.
The margarita tempted me, though the size was enormous. I aimed to walk out of here in a straight line. I decided to switch it up. “Same.”
Lucas glanced sidelong at me as our server moved on. “Didn’t figure you for a craft beer drinker.”
Truth: I didn’t drink much beer, but I liked supporting small creators and that could easily stretch to local beer brewers. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
I could have sworn his cheeks colored. That little patch of skin above his beard. Was it smooth or rough?
“I know next to nothing about you.” He grunted. “Which is a problem since I supposedly hired you.”
I flitted my hand in the air. “Are you still on about that? Look, Marcy got me in, and Twila did the dirty work. You don’t have to beat yourself up about it.”
A warning flashed in his eyes. I’d gone too far. The man was my boss after all. But instead of growling, he grinned. “You’re probably right. Marcy doesn’t trust just anyone. And you passed the background check.”
Twila angled toward us from the opposite end of the table. “Are you getting Mr. Grumpy to talk, Hudson?”
“I can’t believe he’s even out with us,” Maggie said.
“Hey,” Lucas shot back. “I’mright here.”
She slapped a hand against the table. “We know. It’s a miracle.”
He made some grumbly sounds, working that defined jaw. His beard was closely trimmed. He didn’t seem the type to use beard oil, but he was rather impeccably groomed now compared to the first day we met. Did he ever use any high-end products?
Across from me, Lucas tapped a finger against the worn wood table to a beat only he could hear. He didn’t seem particularly nervous or irritated, just thinking to himself.
Once drinks arrived, I threw a few softball questions his way to get him comfortable. After all, it sounded like he rarely—if ever—took up the happy hour offer. Lucas answered easily enough but didn’t seem fully engaged.
Right. It wasn’t as if we had any of the same interests. We might not even exist on the same planet.
I slid my phone from my purse. Yes! A decent connection now that we were outside of the woods. I needed a quick peek at some accounts. Except didn’t I tell Lucas I had a thing about staying offline?
“Excuse me.” I shot him a smile—as if he cared to look up from his beer—and dashed off to the ladies room.
No shame in a quick scan while I did my business.
New comments appeared in the posts I’d made weeks ago. Speculation on what happened to me. One hopeful theory suggested I was slinking around with that former SNL guy who dated everybody on the rebound. Ha!
An image of Lucas staring into his beer flashed in my mind. I’d sort of ditched him out there, hadn’t I?
I slipped the phone into my purse and washed up at the sink. I removed my hat and shook out my hair for an overall scan of my face and make-up. A quick lipstick refresh and a spritz of facial mist and I was ready to go.
The main bathroom door opened and two chattering women entered. They parked themselves in front of the mirror beside me.
“Ooh, that’s a great lipstick color,” one of them remarked. “What kind is it?”
On instinct, I reached into my purse. “I have samples. Would you like one?” I handed over two Sheek branded mini tubes of lipstick individually sealed in their own packaging. “I’m not selling anything. I have them because of a…thing I did.” I shrugged.
