Page 67 of One Week Wingman

We’re in the lock-up. It looks like every small town jail I’ve ever seen on TV—a concrete cell with a wooden bench and actual metal bars. “I can’t believe this is real,” I cry, sinking down on the bench in despair. “I’m actually behind bars. I’ve never even gotten a parking ticket!”

“But it was worth it,” Seb says with a smirk. He’s lounging there, way too relaxed, but then again, it’s not him in trouble here, it’s Stefano.

“I can’t believe you’re enjoying this!” I scowl.

He grins. “Relax. Your sheriff friends already said nobody’s going to jail for this. He’ll write a ticket, and we’ll be on our way.”

It’s no consolation. “My mom will kill me,” I despair.

“You’re right about that.”

We turn. Mom and Phil are in the doorway, and they don’t look happy. Or rather, my mom doesn’t look happy, Phil is giving me a wink.

“The lake, huh?” he says with a smile. “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

“It’s all his fault,” I point to Sebastian. “He’s a bad influence.”

My mom tuts. “I can’t believe you. Everyone is going to hear about this.”

Stevie lets us out of the lock-up and gives us a warning. “Indecency is no small matter. Think of the children.”

“Yes, Roxy,” Seb murmurs to me, grinning. “Those poor, innocent children who might have been exposed to your wicked ways.”

I elbow him. “Takes two to commit public indecency,” I hiss back. We trail out of the station after my parents, and I brace myself for the literal mother of all lectures.

“I just don’t understand what you were thinking,” my mom gives me a disapproving look, once we’re outside on the sidewalk.

“It’s actually my fault,” Seb speaks up, putting on his best charming smile. “I suggested taking a drive. And then, well, passion swept us away—”

“Roxy should know better.” My mom interrupts. “But then again, her decision making skills aren’t the best these days.”

I tense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly that.” Mom’s gaze moves back to me. “Really, Roxanne, I can’t follow what’s going on with you. One minute you’re on track, you have a plan, and then the next, you’re just throwing it all away on a whim!”

I suck in a breath. “This is about law school again,” I say, dully.

“It’s about everything.” Mom gazes at me, imploring. “I just don’t understand how you can throw all that hard work away.”

“I told you—”

“That law wasn’t the right fit. Well, how about you find out what is?” she demands. “You’re just spinning your wheels, going nowhere. You don’t want to go back to school, you’re not interviewing for any real jobs—”

“Bartendingisreal,” I interrupt, feeling a surge of anger. “You try serving two hundred rowdy strangers on a Friday night. I like my job. It gives me time for friends, hobbies—”

Mom folds her arms. “It’s not leading anywhere.”

“Where do I need to go?” I ask, my voice rising in frustration. We’ve been having a version of this argument for years, but she refuses to listen. “To some soulless office every day, where I sit at a desk and tap away at a computer filing useless bullshit? Would that make you happy?”

“I want you to have a solid career, that you can rely on,” Mom shoots back. “So that one day, you don’t look back and regret all the time you wasted on… on,this!”

“You mean, the way you look back and regret all the time you wasted with my dad?”

She flinches. Phil finally steps between us, hands up. “Easy, ladies. Tensions are running a little hot.”

“I agree,” Sebastian joins him, planting his hands on my shoulders. “It’s been a long night.”

“How about you take Roxy home, and we can continue this discussion in the morning?” Phil says.

---