Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77611 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77611 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
I obediently turn to watch the other dancers make space for him to do the slightly-drunk-straight-boy dance with two women dressed in outfits that together cost a year of our combined salaries. He’s a well-built football coach/math teacher full of himbo goodness, but he does like to burp the alphabet for fun, and those ladies look more like morning-mimosa types.
Still, he’s got a certain charm, they’re all flushed with drink and good cheer, and ’tis the season. Maybe this is an opposites-attract meet-cute, and one of them will agree to take him off my hands and finally make me an uncle. We turned thirty-three this year, and so far he’s the only member of our tight-knit group likely to settle down picket-fence style and give me some vicarious domestic-bliss thrills.
Those other two sure aren’t ponying up to the bar.
“There may be several regrets in his future.” Bex appears at our table, adjusting her new, more fashionable glasses and fanning her flushed cheeks after her spin around the dance floor. “I’ve seen those ladies at a few of Kate’s other events and all I can say is that they’re a handful.”
Rebecca “Bex” Gordon is a computer nerd and the de facto leader of our gang. Apart from us, she’s not a fan of humanity as a whole—or sunlight—and she’d much rather be fiddling with gadgets or getting into other people’s business, which is why her new job is such a weird flex for her. She’s got a green streak in her chin-length brown bob to match her twinkling green eyes, and a benevolent, but occasionally terrifying boss who knows everyone’s secrets.
Predictably, Val has tensed at her appearance and retreated into his water glass. On paper, he’s a successful architect and probably the most together of all of us, and he’s definitely the most attractive. Too bad he’s also a giant chickenshit. That’s the reason we haven’t had a fun family dinner and game night in years. We still have them, of course, twice a month like clockwork. They’re just filled with awkward silences and angsty undercurrents instead of the traditional laughter and acceptance I’ve come to expect.
It’s been getting worse lately, and as long as Bex keeps pretending to be oblivious and Val continues to keep his feelings to himself, it isn’t going to get any better. When it’s fiction, I love shows like this—the will-they-won’t-they drama of it all. But these are my friends and they’re both suffering. Maybe I really should hold an intervention. Wouldn’t that be a laugh? The one anti-commitment guy in the bunch handing out relationship advice?
Update on Ponytail Guy: He just bent over to pick something up and I almost had a mini orgasm. Have I mentioned what a great ass he has and how shallow I am? I feel like I should whistle or something to make him turn around. I’m dying to get a good look at the rest of him.
“Is Conman still pouting about your vacation?” Bex brings my attention back to our table while keeping her gaze carefully fixed on me. Since Val is the size of a muscular tank, it’s an admirable attempt.
“The beer made it worse. It seems someone told him our drinks were on the house because we’re your besties.” I give her a what-can-you-do shrug. “And it’s not a vacation. When I’m retired on a tropical island surrounded by naked men fanning me and feeding me cookies, then you can call it a vacation.”
“The drinks were Kate’s idea. And if that’s what you want, Win, I can make it happen.”
I shake my head wryly. “You can ‘make it happen’? You’re sounding more like your boss every day. You know that in this particular Batman series, you’re actually Alfred the butler’s cute and sassy niece.” I frown. “Wait, didn’t she become Batgirl in the movie? I think that was a bad analogy.”
“Very funny. I didn’t tease you a few days ago when you asked if he could teach you how to be a spy for your sabbatical.”
When Val turns a curious look my way, I glare at her. “He knew I was joking. And you have been teasing me. Continuously. I seem to recall you sending me an insulting 007 meme this morning.”
Bex and her uncle have been assuring me for years that their boss, Ken Tanaka, is not, in fact, a spy. Not really. He is filthy rich, and occasionally does some computer work for the government. And he and his fiancé did go undercover to deal with a human-trafficking thing years ago. The condos he owns—where Bex lives and works—do happen to hold an assortment of people who have interesting stories and highly suspicious skills. There’s also the fact that he knows so much about me that I check my apartment for hidden cameras and bugs on a regular basis.