Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65582 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 262(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Fidgeting, she says, “I want you to look at something.”
“Shoot.”
She reaches into her purse and pulls out a photo, then sets it on the table and pushes it toward me. “Look at this.”
I pick the photo up and stare at it. It’s not a flattering photo—some girl with thick-lensed glasses and braids, an odd orange tint to her hair and headgear. To add more salt to this poor girl’s wound, she’s wearing a canary yellow turtleneck and purple sweatshirt over it. Glancing up, I put the photo back down. “What is this? Who is this?”
“That’s me.” She actually manages to hold a straight face when she confesses this.
Grabbing the picture back from the table, I hold it up again. “This is you?” I fail at keeping the astonishment from my voice.
“It is. Senior year in high sch—”
“Senior year? A lot has changed.” Looking at her suit, I add, “Mostly.”
Shock rolls over her and she grabs her jacket by the lapels and looks down. “What? You don’t like my suit?”
“Ummm, it’s okay.”
When her shoulders sag, I add, “I mean it could be worse.”
“Not really by the sound of it. Geez. As if I didn’t feel bad enough—”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m just in shock.”
“Am I that hideous in the photo?”
“You were never hideous. You were just hiding behind,” I start to say, moving my finger over the top of it, “a lot of other stuff. There’s a lot going on here.”
“That’s why I need your help.”
“How can I help you?” I ask not sure where this is going.
“I want your help to win Lowry.”
“What’s a Lowry?”
“The asshole. That’s a Lowry.”
Whoa. Whoa. “Whoa. Back up. You want my help winning the attention of that asshole from last night?”
She eagerly nods with a wide smile. “Yes. Exactly.”
“Maybe I’m a bit slow, but let me get this straight. You want me to help you somehow get the attention of some guy who doesn’t deserve your attention, much less your time of day?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you know how to get everyone’s attention without even trying and then you know all that other stuff.”
“What other stuff?”
“The sex stuff.”
This time, my eyes go wide before they narrow in utter confusion. “What sex stuff?” Oh man, that pink I love so much colors her cheeks. How does she work the bravado shy girl thing so well? She’s not even aware of how she affects men. Unicorn.
Leaning over the table, she glances around to make sure no one hears her. “Last night. What we did last night.”
Dot.
Dot.
Connect.
“You want me to teach you sex stuff?” I didn’t think my eyes could go wider but now they’re practically hanging out in disbelief.
She nods.
I repeat, “You want me to teach you sex stuff to get the attention of that asshole who doesn’t deserve your attention, nor time of day?”
She nods again. “Will you help me?” I’m not sure how long I’ve been staring at her, but it’s long enough for her to clap her hands in front of my face. “You still with me?”
“How?”
“How what?” She sits back down, looking a little confused herself.
Shaking my head, I ask, “How do you want me to teach you?”
The way she talks about this as if this is so ordinary, like we’re figuring out where to order takeout tonight. “I’ve been thinking about it. You made me realize last night that it would be like lessons in love, in romance.”
“In seduction?”
“Yes.”
“You understand that’s ludicrous, right?”
“I do, but what I’m doing now isn’t working.” Looking down, she holds her jacket out. “At all. I need help. Your help. You get any woman you want. Women throw themselves at you. You know how to read their wants and needs. You know how to make a woman feel special without feeling dirty.”
“Unless they want that.”
That makes her laugh. “Yes, unless they want to feel dirty.”
“Hey, Hardy?” Eddie calls from behind the bar, and waves me over.
We both look over and then back at each other. I say, “They need backup.”
“What do you say? Will you help me?”
“I’m not even sure what this entails.”
She pushes the photo back toward me. “When is your next night off?”
“Sunday.”
“We can talk then, go over the details. You can decide after that. If you say no, I won’t blame you. But if you say yes,” she says, her excitement growing, “we can plot it all out, set the rules and such.”
Standing up when Eddie calls me again, I run my hand through my hair. “This is wild.”
She stands as well, close to me, too far for my liking. “I can tell you like living dangerously.”
I don’t like when the danger involves my heart, but I know I’m going to accept the challenge, ready to put it on the line. “I don’t do things on dares.”
“Then what will get you to do this?”