Page 51 of The Art of Falling in Love with Your Enemy
I’m loving this. I hold back my own snort, thinking about two brothers making some kind of ridiculous stupid bet over a baseball card.
“Who does that?” A sounds offended. “I’ll tell you who does that, another competitive man who wants to fulfill his baseball card collection. As soon as my brother realized he would finally get the last baseball card he needs to complete his collection, you can bet he said yes.”
Shaking my head, I’m startled when the intercom comes on in the small room. “McCoy, your order’s ready. McCoy, pizza is ready.”
I make my way out of the room and over to the cashier stand. I wait while my teenage friend puts the finishing touches on my pizza and places it in its cardboard box. As I wait, I’m ridiculously excited I can still hear Man A chatting away to his annoyed work colleague. I’m half tempted to sit here and eat my pizza so I can find out what happens with their wing challenge, but another rumble from my belly tells me I’m gonna want to get home with my hot pizza and fast.
“So…” Man B must have gotten something to eat because it sounds like he’s speaking in between bites. “You bet your brother he couldn’t get a date with some girl in the small town where he’s a cop?”
Huh. That’s interesting.
“Oh, it’s more to it than that, Daniel.” Man A stops to take a swig of his drink.
“What do you mean?” asks B.
“He’s been stuck with her on a double date before, and apparently, she’s hot but a pain in the arse.”
Did he really just say arse? My hands rise up and grip the counter.
“Specifics. C’mon.”
I nod my head in agreement with Man B. We need specifics, Man A. Speak up, please.
“Okay, specifics. Well, on their double date, they went to an escape room and they didn’t get along. Like pickles and peanut butter. He said she was trying to be commanding, telling everybody what to do, and it rubbed him the wrong way. And look, he’s the kind of person who won’t say anything bad about anyone, but he did call her complex and complicated.”
I look down, surprised to find my knuckles white. Didn’t realize I was clenching so strongly.
“So, she’s bold and your bro couldn’t handle it?”
I’m liking Man B more and more.
“Don’t know,” replies Man A. “He’s mentioned pulling her over and having to arrest her…”
My skin suddenly prickles. There are some strong similarities here that I’m beginning to question.
“What?” Man B is incredulous, and I feel a stab at my heart. “He arrested her?”
“Yeah, and also—this is funny—her dog keeps running away from her. Guess where he goes? To the police station where Zac works. At least once a week, he said.”
The two men are laughing at the same time a flume of icy-cold fluid blasts through my body. Man A’s brother is Zac?
Zac made a bet with his brother that he could ask me out?
The only reason Zac asked me out was so he could win a baseball card?
I’m in such a state of shock that I grab my keys and walk out to my car and open the door to get inside, leaving the pizza on the counter. It’s not until I’m turning the key in the ignition, about to put my car in reverse, when the teenager who took my order appears at the driver’s side window. I came here to get food, and while my stomach may be rumbling, it’s pretty fair to say I’m not hungry now.
Shaking, I take the pizza from this nice kid, but not before warning him to be kind to women or I’d come back and haunt him. I toss it on the floor of the passenger’s side and pull out of the parking lot, headed home. All of the light and happiness I’d been feeling when I pulled in here half an hour ago is gone. Wiped away.
Zac Wright is a ding-dong devil and I’m gonna kill him, and kill him good, when I get ahold of him.
TWENTY-TWO
Zac
Monday mornings are always the hardest for me to get out of bed. Today is no different. After a weekend of trying to corner Etta alone so I could explain to her about the bet, my cowardice in asking her out, and let her know I really do want to go on a date with her…well, I’m mentally worn out.
Dubs has a fresh pot of coffee ready when I stop by to pick up his bill before work. I stay long enough to pour myself a cup, holding it tight as he places the invoice in my free hand.
