Page 18 of Where There's A Will
I knew she was right. Bree was always right.
“Come on, ladies, let’s get you sitting down and get you some drinks. Wine or beer?” One of the organisers ushered us towards the tables set out for the event. The women were to remain seated and the men would move from table to table when the bell rang after five minutes.
‘Both’ probably wasn’t an acceptable answer, so I asked for a beer. If I drank wine, I knew I’d be on the floor if I had a glass per ‘date’. After looking around the room again and spying both Hugo and Will, I needed it.
Bree and I were split up, with her table being several rows away from me. I wished she was closer, so we could chat between ‘dates’. Hugo and Will were on opposite sides of the room, Will in conversation with Roman, Hugo alone. I could see him scoping out the potential, and shuddered.
The first bell rang and a tall ginger-haired guy, wearing a Spider-Man T-shirt, sat down. He placed his bottle of beer on the table and pointed at mine.
“Samesies!” he said. “I’m Bobby.”
I already had a feeling this one wasn’t going to go too well. “Hi, Bobby, I’m Montana.”
“Like the state. Cool.” He grinned. “Who was your favourite superhero when you were little?”
No surprise that was his opening gambit. I pretended to give it some thought. “Hmm, it’s a tricky one. I’d probably have to say Wonder Woman.”
He wrinkled his nose. “Chicks usually say Wonder Woman. Her or Catwoman.”
“I’m guessing yours is Spider-Man?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yup. I’ve seen all the films and am trying to collect all the comics.” He nodded proudly.
“So are you a night owl or an early riser?” I glanced down at the list of suggested questions, trying to steer the conversation away from things I had no clue—or interest—about. Comics and superheroes had never been my thing, no matter who I was trying to impress.
“Definitely a night owl. Can’t beat chatting online to people across the world in the early hours of the morning when it’s halfway through their day.”
“Are you a gamer?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
“You got it. My online moniker is bobspider271. Check me out if you’re ever playing Fortnite.”
I had never, ever, played the game and had no intention of starting now, especially with bobspider271. We exchanged a few more questions, the usual ‘what’s your job’ and ‘what’s your favourite breakfast cereal’. Bland, benign questions I barely registered the answers to.
When the bell went for the first switch around, I breathed a sigh of relief. Bree waved at me, gesturing to her first suitor—Will’s friend Roman—following it with a thumbs up. Oh God, I hoped Will hadn’t said anything to Roman about what happened last night and somehow he’d let the cat out of the bag to Bree. She’d never forgive me for not hearing the goss first.
All too soon it was time to take our seats for round two. The second prospective beau was even more forgettable than Bobby; he didn’t even have a funny T-shirt or online persona to woo me with.
As I swigged my beer, waiting for number three to sit down, I glanced over toward Will, who treated me to a wide smile. I wondered when we’d get our turn to chat and if I could convince Bree we’d never met each other before.
“Hey, Montana.”
Hugo appeared in my line of sight, a glass of red in his hand.
I swallowed quickly, some of the beer going down the wrong way, causing me to cough and splutter. Not exactly the impression I wanted to create when coming face-to-face with my ex for the first time in over a month. Hugo passed me a napkin as he sat down opposite me.
“Looking good, Montana.” His gaze swept over me, no doubt noting the changes in my appearance. “The boys said they’d seen you.”
Struggling for breath, I could only nod as I dabbed my mouth and streaming eyes.
The bell went to signal the start of our five minutes.
We sat there, neither of us speaking, for a good thirty seconds.
“I don’t see the point of this; after all, we know each other’s bad points already,” I started. “Or at least, I know all of yours. You know, like cheating.”
His gaze dropped to the table and I found myself staring at the top of his head. “I’m sorry, Montana, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
I folded my arms. “I found you dry-humping a hostess. It’s a bit late for apologies, Hugo.”
