“I need a really strong drink,” I mumble, moving past her to get it myself.
I feel so stupid. It was bad enough before he showed up. Now Rye knows Wren didn't want to go on a date with me. The last thing I need is my enemy knowing I can't even get a date when it's set up for me.
“Vodka. Straight up,” I say to the bartender, hoping I'm saying it right.
I never drink liquor very often, so I have no idea what to order. The guy works quickly, considering there are a slew of people calling out orders. He hands me mine, and I reach for my purse.
“Put it on my tab,” a deep, familiar voice says over my shoulder.
“Yes, sir, Mr. Clanton,” the bartender says with a nod.
I turn to see Rye just as I take a sip of my vodka. Oh wow. This is the good stuff. I still make a face, but usually I spit alcohol back out.
“I can pay for my own drinks,” I say to the man who is studying me too hard.
“You're supposed to be my date,” he replies with a shrug.
He motions for me to walk in front of him, and I take another sip, praying it drowns out the humiliation. I need less attractive and less rich friends. Maybe then something like this wouldn't happen because I'd be on my own playing field.
“I'm supposed to be Wren Prize's date. I guess he sent you to deal with the riffraff.”
I aim for casual, but I sound wounded. Shit. Show no weakness, Brin.
“Wren had shit to take care of. Though he didn't feel as though he could confide in me. I'm here because he didn't want you to feel stood up. How the hell do you know everybody?”
He continues studying me, and I take a deep breath. I got as dressed up as I felt comfortable with for this date, trying to look like I belonged in this crowd. I wish I had my jeans and T-shirt on right now. He looks so casual and at ease, and I'm wearing a black dress I borrowed from Maggie.
It's hard to be me when I'm dressed like someone else. I really need to buy new clothes. Since my divorce, I've lost a good deal of weight, and now all of my clothes are too big—as Mr. Jerk Face pointed out.
“I met Tria a while back, and she sort of introduced me around. I don't really know their men very well, but I know the girls.”
I look around just as the music dies down, and the band takes the stage once again. The lead singer is young, but incredibly sexy.
“Too young for you,” Rye says, drawing my attention.
He motions toward the
stage with his beer to let me know what he's talking about. One look at the guy all the girls are screaming over, and I laugh.
“I realize that, but I'm not exactly old.” Even though I feel forty. Then I turn to face him better.
“You don't have to hang out with me. You had no idea your date was going to be the troll across the road. Go have fun. I'm about to sneak out.”
Just as I drink down my last few sips, he tugs my elbow.
“Nope. You're not going to go play Ms. Hermit. You're staying because Ash will think I said something to piss you off.”
Great. He thinks I'm a hermit. He'd be horrified if I told him my favorite part of the day has become our pranks.
“Don't be nice. It makes me feel pathetic.”
He laughs as he drops his arm over my shoulders.
“It's a temporary truce. You loaned me your shower; now I'm making you have fun. Besides, you made me eat alone after you promised you'd have dinner with me.”
I would have killed for one of those burgers, but the second the lights came on, I stood there feeling awkward, and he said nothing. I just excused myself to make things more comfortable.
Is he trying to be my friend right now? Or is he just being friendly?