Page 4 of Scandalous Lover

I snap back to center. “Yes, sorry. Naomi. It’s nice to meet you, Mike.”

And so it goes. Each new guy is a blur of pleasantries and job titles. I smile politely and offer as much information as is strictly required before allowing the guy to jot his number down in my growing list of digits I’ll never call.

It’s truly amazing how much guys think we care about their jobs. I make a mental note to chat with Bev about giving them a better pep talk. We want to get an idea of their income level—hell, that should be on the damn name tag—but the last thing we want to do is spend five minutes hearing about residency rounds or sales calls.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. Have a great rest of your evening.”

“The night is young if you want to grab a drink here or at another bar. You’re my last date and favorite woman I’ve met tonight.”

I can feel the side eye from his previous date next to me as I try to manage an apologetic smile. “Sorry, not tonight. But I have your number.” I hold up my notebook as proof.

“Well, be sure to use it.”

I smile just long enough for the guy to wander off before letting it drop like a stone.

“You sure did well,” the lady next to me says, eyeing my list of numbers.

“I guess I did.” I glance at her much shorter list and bite my lip. “Do you want them?”

“Your list of numbers?” she asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. There’s only one I want.” I tear the paper neatly, so my notes and Sam’s number are safe at the top, offering the rest of the sheet, with the whole list of guys’ names and numbers, to the stunned blondie.

“Thank you. Wow.” She tucks the paper in her purse like I just handed her a hundred dollar bill.

“Do you want to take a selfie?” I ask, already planning the caption for the photo that shows just how generous I am for helping this poor lady out.

I find Sam at the bar, talking with some random lady. I try to exude enough “get the fuck out of here” juju to scare her off, and it works.

Still got it.

“There you are. Any luck with the guys?”

I blush as laughter rises up from my belly. I’ve got to get this under control. I’m turning into a puddle every time this guy opens his mouth.

I may have had a teeny crush on him growing up, but I had crushes on all my brother’s friends. They were like idols to me. Untouchable, so cool, like characters in a movie I wasn’t allowed to watch.

But there’s no reason to still be stumbling over my words all these years later.

“Not exactly. I got plenty of numbers, but none I’m going to use.”

“Ouch,” Sam offers good naturedly.

“Oh, I didn’t mean yours. I’m definitely going to use yours.”

His eyebrows raise, and I suppress another giggle.

“So, Miss Austin expert. Where to now?”

I tap my chin and consider. I was planning to just go home, but this opportunity is too good to pass up. “You hungry?”

“Always.”

“How about tacos?”

“My love language.”

Oh god, Naomi. Do not swoon.

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