Page 6 of Sweeter

“Fucking hell. Can we not get the manager to kick her out?”

Marley runs a hand through her curls. “The manager’s not in. Or I assume she’s not, or she’d have kicked us out of her office.”

I look around the room we’ve been using as a refuge. “You don’t know her?”

“Oh God, no! I just dragged you back here and locked the door from the inside. It worked out pretty well, don’t you think?”

Before I can say anything, protest, or run, Marley claps her hands. “I have a plan for calming the sugar babies.”

“Does it involve giving away my testicles?”

“Not at all.”

“Then I’m all ears.”

Chapter 3

Marley

Time goes a bit wobbly when I’m drunk, but I’d guess about three hours has passed since I coaxed Will out of the manager’s office. The bartender at Plonk said he’d rather eat glass than host a ‘sorry about the catfishing’ party, so we went down the street to Alchemy. I don’t know how much money Will put on the tab, but we’ve been drinking fancy cocktails for ages and no one’s asked us for cash. There are nine of us in all, nine women this Felix asshole conned into stepping out on an ice-cold evening.

“Henry just seemed so not insane,” Sarah the redhead sighs, and we nod because he really didn’t seem insane. Which is ironic because this Felix guy clearly needs a team of psychologists on his case.

“It was nice of Will to pay for all this,” Katrina the platinum blonde says and we all glance at the bar. Will is draining a glass of whiskey. He’s put his hat back on, concealing his handsome, angular face. He looks like a fuckboy, but now that I know what’s under the hat, I can’t bring myself to hate it. In fact, the more tequila I put in my mouth, the more I think maybe…I like the hat?

Anna, the glamazon who threw my margarita at Will, stands and pulls me into a side-hug. “I’m heading home. Great to meet you.”

“You too,” I say and I mean it. Once she understood Will wasn’t the catfish and he’d buy her all the vodka sodas she wanted, Anna stopped being terrifying and started being hilarious. We’ve spent most of the party talking about the shitty waitressing jobs we’ve worked and her six-year-old daughter, Tia. Apparently, she loves finger-painting and I’ve convinced Anna to bring her to the studio for a clay-throwing lesson.

“See you and Tia on Thursday,” I tell Anna, getting to my fee t. “Do you want me to walk you to your taxi?”

In addition to free drinks, Will agreed to pay for everyone’s ride home.

“I’m okay.” Anna jerks her head at Will. “Go talk to him.”

My stomach shimmers like a mirage. “I can’t.”

“Why?”

“He’s a tech bro.”

“Tech is the way of the future.” Anna chucks me under the chin. “You like him. He likes you. Be a shame to waste it.” Anna shoves her fingers in her mouth and whistles. The whole bar turns to look at her. I’d die of shame, but she just tosses her hair. “Will?”

Will’s hat tilts up.

“Get over here.”

There’s a pause, then Will slides off his barstool.

I shake my head at Anna. “And people sayI’ma force of personality.”

She shrugs. “I’m Italian. See you Thursday, bella. Good luck.”

Anna sashays away right as Will pulls up. “What did Anna want?”

God, he’s tall. So tall and pretty. I can see his eyes from this angle. An icy lake gleaming behind a mountain.

“Marley?”

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