Page 44 of Perfect Pact

“Yes!” I laugh, pointing to her. “Exactly that.”

“Back to why I’m here. My friend is an event planner. I remember you saying you were looking for an investor. I thought maybe you guys could be partners?” I hadn’t really given much thought to a partner.

“Partners?” Savannah and I question. Looks like I’m not the only one blindsided by this information.

“Yeah. Just think about it. Talk and see if it’s a fit.”

I try to think quick on my feet. “So, you’re staying in Mason Creek?”

“I would like to,” she answers, a little unsure.

“Okay then.” I hold out my hand. “Give me your phone. I’ll plug in my number.”

“I got this.” Joey pulls out her phone. “I’ll just share your contact with the other one.”

“Or that works.” I giggle, excited by this turn of events. “She’s persistent and gets things done. Maybe we should make this a three-way partnership.”

“Did someone say threesome?” Dusty steps up behind me and places his hand on my shoulder, flashing a wicked smile.

“No, they didn’t, Dusty.” I try to shake him off like a Taylor Swift song, but he won’t budge.

“Call me, Savannah. Let’s talk,” she says before grabbing her drink and walking off.

I smile, and we promise to connect. This feels like a double victory. I’ll have access. I might have additional funding. I’ll have options.

I feel like celebrating. “Cheers.” I raise my bottle to his. At the clank of our glasses, he eyes me suspiciously.

“What are we drinking to? Our new perfect pact?”

“Maybe…among other things.” I take another drink as the lights go down and the music goes up.

Dusty

She’s drunk.

If I had known the way to get Beth to let her guard down was tequila shots, I would’ve started by introducing myself with a bottle of Cuervo.

She’s dancing, talking, laughing. More importantly, she’s acting like she doesn’t hate me for more than five minutes at a time. I call that win.

I could tell she was tense when we sat at the bar sharing a bunch of different types of appetizers, turns out we both have a soft spot for deep fried food and ice-cold beer. It’s amazing when we finally stop trying to be enemies, just how much we actually have in common. Not just favorite drinks or foods but we both love scary movies and country music.

I’ve already built a career for myself, but I can tell Beth is a go-getter. She’s got that drive and maybe that’s what drew me to her in the first place. I recognize something in her that I see in myself.

Leaning back on the bar I watch her dancing with the girls, letting her hair down.Literally.They played the song “Drunk,” and she yelled, “That’s my jam!” Then her scrunchie was gone.

Man, she’s going to be feeling this in the morning.

I take minute to enjoy the show as she jumps around, waving her arms above her head and dropping low with her back to me. “Holy shit. She can move.”

“You got that ri—” Some asshole next to me whistles under his breath.

“I wouldn’t finish that sentence if I were you.” I push off the bar and down my drink as the song ends. When the tempo slows, she spins around and motions for me to come out to the floor. I set my empty bottle down with a thud and shrug to the guy wishing he was me. “Duty calls.”

“Dusty!” Beth slurs, grabbing my hands. “Just in time!” She stares up at me with stars in her emerald eyes as some ballad I’ve never heard starts. “Don’t you just love this song?”

I nod, unable to take my eyes off her. Time freezes. In this moment, I know I’ll do whatever it takes for her to look at me like this every day.

I just hope I don’t have to get her drunk to do it.

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