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Why did it feel like everyone in the bookstore coffee shop was watching and listening to us?
“Okay, fine. I will consider your proposal.” I wasn’t about to jump right in with both feet even if it was possible she found a decent dude.
“Not good enough. What are you doing this weekend?” When I didn’t answer right away, she was the one rolling her eyes. “Let me guess. You’re going to spend all day baking tomorrow followed by some stupid bake sale or fair where you hope customers will throw themselves at your feet, begging you for more of your scrumptious cupcakes.”
She made it sound so horrible. “Maybe.”
“You will soon be thirty. You need to find a real boyfriend.”
Now I was the one leaning over the table, threatening to accidentally toss my laptop onto the floor. “Like you?”
“I’ve been in two serious relationships, one even leading to a marriage proposal. Have you?”
Jesus. I was far too predictable. “Who is this guy?”
“While I don’t know his name or his pedigree, I assure you he is perfect. From the clothes and watch he was wearing, his family must be from old money, but I watched him and he seemed very nice, a generous tipper, and had the kind of smile any woman would die to fall for.”
Melodramatic much?
She was holding her phone in her hand.
“What does he look like, an ape?”
“He’s cute, although the picture I took is a little grainy. I was in a hurry.” She slid her finger across the screen, using her pinky to navigate to where she wanted.
“You are a terrible friend. Fine. Let me see.”
The girl could light up an entire room with her smile alone. She remained dramatic, taking her time to slide her finger across the screen, navigating to her photos before handing me her phone.
“The photo is grainy.”
“I already told you that. Why can’t you trust me for once? I spent two days researching and hunting, using connections and my wit to find the perfect guy for you. The least you could do is act like you give a damn.”
I wanted to glare but I smiled instead. “And he is single? Did you at least figure that out? I don’t want to find myself with a married man.”
Been there, done that.
“Oh, yeah, baby. He is very single.”
“And you got his number?”
Her smile was positively devious as she pulled out a bright pink sticky note. “For you, darling. Call or text as you will. But soon or both Bella and I will bug you to death.”
“Dare I ask how the hell you got his number?” I eyed the scribbled writing, her bad penmanship leaving a lot to be desired.
She shrugged, fanning her face and giving me a pouty look. “I have my ways.”
“You did something naughty.”
“I take the fifth.”
“And his name?” What was I thinking? Texting a stranger out of the blue. Oh, good. Stalker 101, here I come.
“Oh, no. That’s part of the game,” Willow cooed. “The two of you need to learn that all by your naughty little selves.”
“You don’t know.”
“My lips are sealed.”
