Page 8 of Mr. Red

“Paige! I thought you were on my side? Ape on crack, remember?” I argue.

“Of course I’m on your side! Youarebooked with him already, though. I’m just trying to give you a little hope it won’t be terrible.”

“I can’t deal with this.” I throw up a hand.

“It’s not forever. He’s not from here, right?” Paige takes a sip of her drink.

“That doesn’t help me with the rest of the month. What if it is forever because he moved here? Or he’s choosing to stay out of spite.”

“You did say he was ahotape on crack. I bet he’s good in bed.”

I make dagger eyes at Paige. “What about this conversation would make you think I want to hook up with him?”

“Nothing. But, he’s the first guy you’ve been attracted to in years. Now, I know you like to get to know a guy, for whatever reason. This way you’ll be getting to know each otherreallywell,reallysoon.” She nudges me, pushing her eyebrows up. “Knowing each other so you can know each other in bed.”

Why do I associate with these women?

I throw some ice from my margarita at Paige.

“Hey! Not cool!” Her face turns a shade of pink.

“Woah, ladies, settle down. Lana, get a hold of your friends!” the bartender interrupts with a playful smile. His dark hair is gelled back, has gauged ears, and a tattoo sleeve on one arm pulling off that “don’t care,” bad boy vibe.

He’s looking like he wants to throw Lana against a wall and have his way with her. He’s been checking her out all night, which she hasn’t seemed to notice. Getting her name,staring at her the whole night, and outright asking if she was single wasn’t a big enough hint for Lana.

I try to get her to notice this guy, just to pull her into the moment. “Lana, go get us another shot, would you? I need to take the edge off.”

“Okay, sure.” She goes to the bartender to order.

“I doubt anything is going to come from that, Scarlett,” Paige says, turning to me.

“We can try to push her intosomething!”

“Hey, I’m all for a good dick down, but she’s beyond lost right now.”

We watch as he takes her request, gives her a wink, and passes her a napkin.

“Okay, play it cool. She’s coming back!” I tap Paige on the arm.

Lana brings a tray of three shots andthenapkin.

“Cheers!” we say, clinking our drinks together in a triangle and downing the shots.

“So, what’s the napkin say, Lana?” I ask, lifting my chin towards the evidence. I’m positive it’s a cute love note with his number.

She looks up after reading it and tells us, “I’m not getting the next round.”

“Lana! You’re no fun! He’s hot!” Paige declares.

“You go get hit on then!”

“He wasn’t after me.”

“You guys, I’m fine.”

“Lana, it’s been three months. Wouldn’t it help to at least try and move on? Even if it’s just a rebound, doing something to get Ryan off your mind,” I persuade. “A guy with tattoos and the look he’s giving you would be a shame to pass up.”

“I don’t need a guy. I have a toy at home some womenwould argue is better. He’ll never hurt me, keeps me satisfied, and is always right where I left him. Guys are just around to break your heart. I don’t need them.” She flicks her hand like she’s shooing a fly.

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