he cracked onto a different girl every night at these dinners.
“Not really.” I slid my hand away, picked up my wineglass and took a sip. The Shiraz was as good as the food; no use letting it go to waste.
“The evening’s winding down soon. Why don’t you stick around and we can finish this bottle at the bar?”
Logic demanded I walk away.
“Besides, Nat would kill me if I didn’t look after you.”
I stiffened.
Nat hated anyone abbreviating her name. Only the privileged few—her family, Marlon and I—did it. So why the hell was he calling her that?
My spidey senses tingled. Uh oh. Now I had to stick around to discover why Lachlan the Lech was fraternizing with my best friend and was close enough to call her Nat.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He sat back with a confident grin and his smugness grated, as if my agreeing had never been in doubt. Cocky bastard. The type of guy I used to go for. Ugh. Shoot me now.
As the Seven Dwarves and the female desperadoes filtered out, I braced for more of Lachlan’s questionable charm . But I’d put up with it to discover what the hell Nat was playing at.
“Tell me about yourself.” He placed a glass of wine in front of me without asking. Arrogant and sleazy.
“Not much to tell. I work at an events company. Weddings, mostly.”
He winced. Yeah, like I didn’t already know he hated matrimony, considering he was schmoozing up to my married BFF.
“What about you?” The faster I figured out his connection to Nat, the faster I could get out of here.
“I’m a law clerk.” He squared his shoulders, like he expected to make Supreme Court judge next week. “I do this occasionally to help out a friend when she’s busy with her kids.”
Okay, maybe he had a nice streak and the arrogance was a front.
“She’s eternally grateful.”
So much for that theory.
I tried a different tack. “You know Nat pretty well, then?”
“Yeah, though she swore me not to tell you.” I didn’t like his wolfish expression. “Nat’s the greatest.”
Shit . My instincts screamed he had the hots for my best friend. And I vaguely remembered she’d mentioned some spunky law clerk she flirted with for kicks.
Not good.
“Do you work with her?”
“Yeah, we’re pretty close.” I didn’t like his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. I liked the fact it implied Nat was close to this creep even less. “Hasn’t she mentioned me?”
“Nope. She’s too busy talking about her husband to mention trivialities.” Take that, smart-ass.
He had the audacity to pat my hand. “Don’t go getting jealous. Plenty of me to go round.”
Resisting the urge to knee him in the balls, I downed the rest of my drink. I needed to have a serious conversation with Nat. Though this creep was probably full of his own self-importance, I had to make sure she wasn’t doing anything as stupid as flirting with danger.
I stood. “Thanks for the drink.”
He almost fell off the bar stool in his haste to join me. “What about a night cap at my place?”
I refrained from sticking two fingers down my throat and making gagging noises, just. “No thanks. Deadlines.”
And instantly regretted inventing a lie for this cretin.
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
He’d already flipped open his cell phone and hit redial before I’d taken two steps. I gritted my teeth as I heard him invite himself to some poor woman’s house to catch up . Is that what they called it these days?
As I headed home, I made several vows: ring Nat first thing in the morning and ask WTF was she thinking, never trust anyone—even a best friend—to set me up with a guy, and maybe check out airfares to California.
Love couldn’t be any worse than this.
CHAPTER SIX
Aunt Flo’s tips to be lucky in love.
Comparing prospective life partners to Chris Hemsworth isn’t wise. The reality will never live up to the fantasy (though dress-ups with Thor costume may help?)
Not surprisingly, Nat wouldn’t take my calls the next
“Not really.” I slid my hand away, picked up my wineglass and took a sip. The Shiraz was as good as the food; no use letting it go to waste.
“The evening’s winding down soon. Why don’t you stick around and we can finish this bottle at the bar?”
Logic demanded I walk away.
“Besides, Nat would kill me if I didn’t look after you.”
I stiffened.
Nat hated anyone abbreviating her name. Only the privileged few—her family, Marlon and I—did it. So why the hell was he calling her that?
My spidey senses tingled. Uh oh. Now I had to stick around to discover why Lachlan the Lech was fraternizing with my best friend and was close enough to call her Nat.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He sat back with a confident grin and his smugness grated, as if my agreeing had never been in doubt. Cocky bastard. The type of guy I used to go for. Ugh. Shoot me now.
As the Seven Dwarves and the female desperadoes filtered out, I braced for more of Lachlan’s questionable charm . But I’d put up with it to discover what the hell Nat was playing at.
“Tell me about yourself.” He placed a glass of wine in front of me without asking. Arrogant and sleazy.
“Not much to tell. I work at an events company. Weddings, mostly.”
He winced. Yeah, like I didn’t already know he hated matrimony, considering he was schmoozing up to my married BFF.
“What about you?” The faster I figured out his connection to Nat, the faster I could get out of here.
“I’m a law clerk.” He squared his shoulders, like he expected to make Supreme Court judge next week. “I do this occasionally to help out a friend when she’s busy with her kids.”
Okay, maybe he had a nice streak and the arrogance was a front.
“She’s eternally grateful.”
So much for that theory.
I tried a different tack. “You know Nat pretty well, then?”
“Yeah, though she swore me not to tell you.” I didn’t like his wolfish expression. “Nat’s the greatest.”
Shit . My instincts screamed he had the hots for my best friend. And I vaguely remembered she’d mentioned some spunky law clerk she flirted with for kicks.
Not good.
“Do you work with her?”
“Yeah, we’re pretty close.” I didn’t like his suggestive eyebrow wiggle. I liked the fact it implied Nat was close to this creep even less. “Hasn’t she mentioned me?”
“Nope. She’s too busy talking about her husband to mention trivialities.” Take that, smart-ass.
He had the audacity to pat my hand. “Don’t go getting jealous. Plenty of me to go round.”
Resisting the urge to knee him in the balls, I downed the rest of my drink. I needed to have a serious conversation with Nat. Though this creep was probably full of his own self-importance, I had to make sure she wasn’t doing anything as stupid as flirting with danger.
I stood. “Thanks for the drink.”
He almost fell off the bar stool in his haste to join me. “What about a night cap at my place?”
I refrained from sticking two fingers down my throat and making gagging noises, just. “No thanks. Deadlines.”
And instantly regretted inventing a lie for this cretin.
He shrugged. “No big deal.”
He’d already flipped open his cell phone and hit redial before I’d taken two steps. I gritted my teeth as I heard him invite himself to some poor woman’s house to catch up . Is that what they called it these days?
As I headed home, I made several vows: ring Nat first thing in the morning and ask WTF was she thinking, never trust anyone—even a best friend—to set me up with a guy, and maybe check out airfares to California.
Love couldn’t be any worse than this.
CHAPTER SIX
Aunt Flo’s tips to be lucky in love.
Comparing prospective life partners to Chris Hemsworth isn’t wise. The reality will never live up to the fantasy (though dress-ups with Thor costume may help?)
Not surprisingly, Nat wouldn’t take my calls the next
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