“You find him attractive?” Keiko asks, a crinkle to her brow.
“Uh, I think everyone within a ten-foot radius would find him attractive,” I say.
“Sure, if you lean toward obvious attraction,” Keiko says with a dismissive expression.
I blink.
Doesn’t everyone?
“Uh, I don’t see why I should be judged for falling victim to obvious attraction.”
Keiko shrugs. “Just peasant behavior, is all.”
I scoot my chair out, ready to fling myself across this table and—
“Easy,” Stella whispers, while Greer frantically looks between us.
“Uh, you know, Keiko, maybe we should go to the bathroom,” Greer says.
“I have no need to relieve myself, and by now, you should have obtained the knowledge that I’m not one to flounce about in the restroom, treating it like a hip gathering spot where the female population tends to deliberate about what’s happening in the main dining space.”
Nor does she tend to read the room . . . ever.
She looks up from the table and eyes me. She tilts her head to the side and then matter-of-factly states, “You’re angry.”
“Yes, I’m angry.”
“Why?” she asks.
“Uh, I don’t know, because you called me a peasant. Because you’re being rude, because this is supposed to be a fun night and you’re not making it fun.”
Keiko glances around the table and then gasps, hand to her chest. “Oh dear, was I supposed to bring the fun? Did I miss a correspondence? Kind of like how I missed the correspondence that I am supposed to be the DD today?” She lifts an eyebrow.
Oh, she is RIPE!
“Don’t,” Stella says, knowing exactly what I want to do: expose Keiko to the one thing she’s missing—the fact that she’s pregnant. “Deep breaths.”
“Okay, I think things have gotten a little out of control,” Greer says. “Remember we’re here to go over goals for the night, right?” Greer nudges me with her foot.
“Right,” I say, taking the high road. “Goals.” I clear my throat. “The one and only goal I have is to have a meaningless fling with a hot guy.”
“Ah, a one-night stand,” Keiko says. “Kelvin and I roleplayed that once. Quite exhilarating. I would be willing to help you accomplish such a task.”
What an angel.
“Why, thank you, Keiko.”
“But Pike won’t be in cahoots with that plan,” Keiko says before taking a drink from her water glass.
My brow knits together again. “And why do you say that?”
“Because he’s not interested in you.”
“He told you that?” I ask, surprised, while glancing over in his direction.
“No.” She sets her drink down. “But he has yet to mention the thought of you even though you seem to be throwing yourself at him.”
My nostrils flare.
My irritation rises.
And before I know what I’m doing, I shoot my body out of the booth and stand.
“What are you doing?” Greer asks, concerned.
“Proving Keiko wrong.” And without waiting for a response, I turn on my heel and head straight to the corner of the bar.
I’ll show her.
Chapter Three
PIKE
Killian: I swear, I had no fucking clue he was going to be there when you were.
I stare at my text from my deceitful brother.
I want to believe him.
But being angry at him is more fun.
Pike: He touched me.
Killian: With his hands?
Pike: How the hell else would he touch me?
Killian: I don’t know, with his golf club?
Pike: He touched me with his hands.
Killian: Do you need me to order you a bleach bath? I’m sure I can find something like that for you. There’s freaky shit in Vegas.
Pike: I would prefer it if you never EVER ask me to do anything like this again. You want the money? You fly across the world and do the dirty work yourself.
Killian: But don’t you feel good about placing first? Must have really chapped Pa’s arse.
That was pleasing and the only reason why I’m not mindlessly drunk right now, just feeling good with two pints down.
Pike: I’m celebrating with nachos and a pint . . . or three.
Killian: Bet it would taste better in England.
Pike: Actually, it tastes better here since it has a hint of freedom.
Killian: No wonder Pa disowned you.
Pike: And here I thought you were holding back the punches for one night.
Killian: LOL. In all seriousness, I’m grateful. Thank you.