Page 61 of The Moment You Know

She was a stunner, with hair the color of a burnished, copper penny and the darkest blue eyes Evan had ever seen. She was wearing an eye-catching, strapless jumpsuit in a color of red which should’ve waged war with her hair, but didn’t.

Evan actually felt his throat go dry for a moment.

Paige put an arm around the woman, who responded in kind. “This is my friend, Jules. See? I told you she was real.”

Evan nodded at Jules, feeling slightly self-conscious. “Hi, Jules. I’m Evan.”

“Hello.”

“So, I heard that you’re in charge of pretty much everything tonight, including ordering drinks. So what am I making for you two lovely ladies?”

Jules thought for a moment. “Two glasses of water to start with, because it’s important to stay hydrated, and in keeping with our theme we’ll both have a Full Monty.”

Evan grinned and after setting down two waters, quickly made their drinks.

Once they each had a Full Monty in hand, he watched them raise their glasses and toast to something he couldn’t hear, then laugh like hyenas before impressively knocking back half the contents in one fell swoop. He wished he could’ve stayed with them, but Lars was giving him serious stink eye and looked like he was being overrun with drink orders, so Evan reluctantly went to help him. By the time he made his way back to the two women, fifteen minutes later, it was just in time to see Jules getting asked to dance by a regular patron of the bar, a man named Jack that Evan was casually friendly with.

When Jules looked like she was going to say no, Paige turned to the attractive man in his mid-thirties. “What’s your name?”

“Jack.”

Paige smiled at him. “She’d love to dance with you, Jack.”

Jules was making a face.

“You know you want to,” Paige told her. “So quit pretending and go out there.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m really sure.”

“All right,” Jules relented, kissing Paige’s cheek, then wiping away a smudge of lipstick that stayed behind. “I promise I won’t be gone long.”

Paige waved her off, and after Jules headed out to the dance floor with Jack, Paige twisted around to find Evan watching her.

Placing both hands on the bar, he leaned forward a little bit, for the first time seeing a hint of sadness behind Paige’s eyes and found himself wanting to know more about her. “So what’s your story?” he inquired in his best bartender voice.

“My story?”

“Yep. Everyone has one.”

She pursed her mouth as if really giving it some thought and then slapped a hand on the bar, making the person to her left glance over. “My story! Oh, my God, I actually wrote my story. I wrote a book, actually.”

“A real book? No shit?”

“No shit! A real book! It’s sold eighty-four copies already!”

“Impressive.”

Paige wrinkled her nose a little as she reined in her excitement. “Not really. But it’s probably eighty-four more than—” she pointed at a woman at the end of the bar, “—that person has sold. Maybe. For all I know, she’s a best-selling author who’s sold millions of books, like … shit, I can’t think. Give me the name of a best selling author.”

“Um … Stephen King?”

“Thank you. For all I know, she’s a best-selling author like Stephen King. Only the female version, of course.”

“Of course,” Evan agreed, then steered the conversation back to her. “So, tell me about your book.”

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

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