“Can we get to the reason my husband, Bill, is complaining about eating leftovers tonight now?” Grandma asks. Crap. I forgot about her and her scheming for a second there.
“What reason?” I ask. I don’t want to know but better to get whatever this is about over with. Maybe if it’s quick, it will hurt less.
“We’ve got a date for you.” Son of a bitch. Grandma the matchmaker strikes again.
“I am not dating anyone.”
I’m not merely saying that to avoid Grandma who is the worst matchmaker in the history of matchmaking. I am seriously done with dating and men in general. After Luke tore my heart out, it took me years to dip my toe back in the dating pool. But seeing Luke again has reminded me of the perils of letting your heart get attached to a man. No, thank you. Been there. Done that.
“Come on,” Grandma cajoles. “You can’t tell me you don’t need a little hanky-panky. It sure would improve your mood.”
“Nope.” I let the P pop to emphasize my point. “I have my BOB for any needs I have.”
Shelby raises her hand. “High five. Long live the BOB!”
I roll my eyes, but I do raise my hand to slap hers.
“What’s a bob? Do I need one?” Grandma asks.
Frankie groans. “Why does the topic always revolve around sex when my grandma is around? You can’t tell me this is normal.”
Shelby ignores Frankie’s complaining to answer Grandma. “It stands for battery operated boyfriend.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
“Like a blow-up doll?” Grandma shakes her head at me. “You don’t need a blow-up doll. We’ve got a live one for you right here.”
A live one? There is a man in this bar right now who thinks he’s my date? I shove Bailey with my hip. “Come on. Move over. I’m out of here.”
Bailey doesn’t budge. “You might as well give in. You know she’ll pester you until she’s blue in the face. You’re in her crosshairs. It’s unavoidable at this point.”
“Plus,” Shelby says. “If you agree to go out on this date, we’ll stop badgering you to tell us what happened with Luke.”
“You will?” I sound hopeful despite not believing her for one single second.
“Yeah, sure.” Grandma nods her agreement. She looks the picture of innocence with her curly gray hair and granny glasses. Innocent my big fat ass.
“Who is it?” I ask as I look around the packed bar. There is a variety of the male species on display. Everything from men in suits to men in sweaty sports clothes. Eww. “Do I get a vote?”
“No need.” Shelby points to a man sitting at the end of the bar by himself. “He’s a hottie.”
A hottie? The man she’s indicating looks boring with a capital B. Not a hair is out of place, and his jaw is freshly shaved. Yawn. “What makes you think he would be my type?”
“Well, you obviously don’t like Luke with all his tats and bad boy image.” Wrong. I like the way Luke looks entirely too much. The mere mention of the man has my female bits quivering in anticipation.
“What? You don’t want to give the mattress a test drive with this guy?” Shelby’s question startles me out of a naked Luke fantasy. “Come on, he’s hot.”
“Says the woman who is marrying Mr. Clean-Cut.” I won’t deny Jackson is sexy, but his clean-cut looks do not start my engine, let alone get it revving.
“But you agreed to give the date a try. Besides.” Shelby’s smile is pure evil. “He’s on his way over as we speak.”
Grandma stands and greets my quote-unquote date with a big smile. “Brian! I’m glad you could make it.”
“Mrs. Taylor.” He leans over and kisses her cheek. Oh, he’s a smooth operator.
“Let me introduce you to Violet.” Grandma tugs him towards our booth. His eyes widen when he sees four women sitting at our table.
Shelby and Frankie jump to their feet. “We’ll get out of your way.”
“Sorry, Violet,” Bailey whispers before standing and following the troublesome twosome.
I notice they don’t leave the bar. Of course not. They grab seats a few tables away. Great. Not only do I have a date I do not want to have, but my date will be tonight’s entertainment for my friends. Fuck my life.
Chapter 6
If I ask you ‘what’, don’t repeat whatever you said. This is an opportunity to correct whatever mistake just came out of your mouth. ~ Violet’s Secret Thoughts
After Grandma makes the introductions and skedaddles, Brian takes a seat across from me. I wait for him to say something. After all, he knew about this ‘date’ whereas I was ambushed. But he doesn’t speak. Fine, then. I’ll start this party.
“How do you know Grandma?”
“Grandma?”
“Nancy.” When there’s no spark of recognition, I explain. “The elderly lady who introduced us.”
“Oh! You mean Mrs. Taylor. I didn’t know her name is Nancy.”
Geez louise, where did Grandma find this one? I remain silent, expecting him to answer my initial question. When de doesn’t speak, I ask, “How did you meet?”
“At the pharmacy.”
“Are you a pharmacist?”
He scoffs as if a pharmacist is the scum of the earth. Judgy much? He waves the waitress over. “I’ll have a glass of Château Mouton Rothschild. Whatever year you have is fine.” What are we? In a James Bond film?
“I’ll get you a glass of our house red wine,” the waitress replies with a roll of her eyes and walks away before he can complain.
“It will probably be swill, but I can order you a glass as well,” he offers after the waitress has left.
I hold up my beer. “I’m good.”
The silence stretches. And no, it’s not one of those comfortable silences. Not even close. The air is practically crackling with tension. And not the good sexual tension. I glance over at the table of my friends. Shelby mouths Do something! I wrinkle my nose in response. I’m not the one who wants to be here.
I could kiss the waitress when she arrives and plops a glass of red wine and two tequilas down on the table. I mouth, thank you to Bailey who gives me a thumbs-up in response.
Brian downs the first tequila and smacks his lips. “Ah, I needed that.”
“Tough week at work?”
He nods. “The absolute worst.”
Before I can ask him more questions, he grabs the second shot and downs it as well. Um, hello. I’m pretty sure the second shot was meant for me and not him. Did Grandma set me up with an alcoholic? Although to be fair to her, how would she know? She picks up these random men and somehow expects them to match with her family. It’s not surprising she hasn’t made a successful match yet.
“Now, I feel like a human.”
I force myself to smile like all is well. All is not well. “Anyway, you were telling me what you do for work.”
“I work in finance. You wouldn’t understand.”
Wow. Called it. Totally Mr. Judgy. I glance at the door. There’s no reason for me to stay here with this dickweed. There’s no way Grandma will stop badgering me for the story of Luke and me, anyway. But who should walk through the door of the bar as I’m staring at it? I quickly avert my eyes before Luke thinks I’m staring at him.