Page 21 of Where There's A Will
“Sorry, Bree, what did you say?” I was aware she was staring at me, an apparent mute who had forgotten how to speak.
“Oh, I asked if you liked football.”
“Do you mean football or soccer?” I hated Americans who insisted on calling the beautiful game ‘soccer’.
“Football. You know, New York Giants, New York Jets? I was a cheerleader in school.”
That figured. Bree was very pretty. She wasn’t going to stop traffic, but she wasn’t going to make anyone run while screaming for eye bleach. I could imagine her in her cheerleading uniform, heading out with the lead quarterback jock or whatever he was called. It was a cute image, though not one to distract me from Montana.
“Nope. Sorry. I don’t get it. Why does a game which should last sixty minutes take over three hours to complete?” I’d not been to a game since I’d been in New York. However, I had seen a couple of Super Bowl matches in my time. Mostly because it meant late-night drinking in the sports bars I used to frequent. And I couldn’t tell you the results of any of the games because of that.
“You obviously haven’t been to a game with the right person.” Bree aimed a coquettish smile in my direction, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
Inwardly, I groaned. It was obvious Bree thought we had a connection. And in a way we did. Montana.
There were still a few more rounds of the dating game and I made my way through them in a semi-fog, keeping a close eye on Montana and her ex. She kept looking over at him as he chatted to the next girl and I caught her glancing in my direction before hurriedly twisting her head away.She thinks he deserves a second chance,I thought, as I watched him laugh and charm the woman he was currently with. Why didn’t I get that?
When all the scheduled ‘dates’ had been completed, those who hadn’t fled from the upstairs bar in horror, milled around, chatting.
Roman brought me another beer and we stood to one side, away from the organisers who were asking whether we’d be coming back next week.
“Did you find the love of your life?” I asked, swigging the drink. I was beginning to think I’d need a bathroom break soon.
“Not necessarily, but I’ve seen a couple of hot dates,” he replied. Roman gestured to a petite redhead who I’d enjoyed chatting to earlier. If I wasn’t so hung up on Montana, I’d ask her out. “She was cute. I think I’d like to get her number.”
I nodded in agreement.
“What about you, Will? I mean, after you stood me up last night.”
“I had to work. It wasn’t like I was out having fun.”
“You’re not being honest there, Will. I stopped by the restaurant last night to cheer you up, but apparently you weren’t rostered on.” Roman nudged me. “Who did you get lucky with?”
I stopped myself from looking in Montana’s direction. She’d made her decision and there was seemingly nothing I could do to change her mind. When I saw her head in the direction of the restrooms, I shoved my bottle at Roman.
“Gotta go pee. Back soon.”
I dashed into the bathroom, did what I needed to in order to relieve my bladder and went into the hallway, hoping to catch Montana before she went back into the bar. I didn’t want to leave things as awkward between us.
Just as I thought I’d missed her, she came out of the door.
She faltered as she got to me and I wondered if she was trying to find a way to get around me without speaking.
“Will,” she began.
“Hear me out, Montana,” I demanded. “I know it’s not any of my business, but I think you’re making the wrong decision in giving him a second chance,” I persisted. “Last night was amazing, you’re amazing. And seeing you here tonight, talking to all these other women, reinforced it for me. I know we’ve only known each other a little less than twenty-four hours but I want to get to know you more. Find out about all the other places you want to visit, apart from London, make those travel dreams come true.” The more enthusiastic I got, the more pronounced my accent became and I could feel her wobbling. Who knew a British accent was such a turn-on?
The strap of her handbag was apparently far more fascinating than anything I had to say and she fiddled with it, while studiously avoiding looking at me.
“I’m sorry, Will. I promised Hugo. I can’t go back on my word.”
And with that, she sashayed away from me.
I leaned back against the wall, the fight drained from me. I didn’t know what else I could say to make her change her mind. Perhaps there was another hostess around somewhere I could bribe to go and stick her tongue down Hugo’s throat.
Will, Will, what are you thinking? Face it. She’s just not that into you.
With those words ringing in my ears, I went back to the bar.
