Page 2 of Man of the Month Club: May
Wide-eyed gazes greet my bold statement. Finally, someone begins giggling. Soon, the entire table erupts with laughter, making it obvious I have effectively broken the ice.
Phoebe glances up and says to someone, who has evidently walked up behind my chair, “Great timing. Everyone, meet May’s Man of the Month, Cooper Bridgerton.”
I turn and look up into the gleaming sapphire eyes of Mr. Mercedes.
He narrows a fierce, icy glare down at me as recognition sets in. His lip curls just before he says in a deep growl, “You…”
2
Cooper
Ihad been hoping to arrive at the bar early, so I could find a quiet corner where I could remain unnoticed as I checked out the group of ladies. But the rude woman in the sporty Mini Cooper had ruined that grand plan. I’d been forced to park at a garage three blocks away and speed-walk here to make it at the agreed-upon time. I hate being late––or even almost late.
When the woman from the parking lot altercation looks up at me with innocence and sunshine shining in her eyes, I’m determined to remain angry with her. She might be gorgeous and confident, but she’s also selfish and impolite.
The tiny hairs on the back of my neck bristle as I glare down at her. I want to tell her off or kiss her senseless, and both of those urges piss me off. I’m not normally an angry person, so for her to cause this kind of volatile reaction within me is unsettling.
Deciding it’s in my best interest to ignore her and hope that we never have to see each other again, I turn my attention to the other lovely women at the table. When I lock eyes with the raven-haired beauty sitting beside the ill-mannered woman, I’m left with very little doubt about her identity.
“Daphne?” I ask her before lifting the back of her hand to my lips.
She smiles and says, “Yes, I’m so thrilled to finally meet you, Cooper.”
I take note of the ‘finally’ she tosses into the sentence. My brother, Ben, has been trying to arrange a dinner for us to meet, but I keep having urgent work situations arise that force me to cancel. For some reason, people seem to think their money––and my managing of it––should take precedence over any kind of social commitment I may have.
Hoping to charm her into forgiving me, I say, “It’s easy to see why Ben has fallen head-over-heels for you.”
The delightful woman actually blushes. It’s a charming and sweet reaction that so rarely happens naturally these days. I’d be willing to bet the ball-buster who drove Daphne here hasn’t blushed in years––if ever.
Not wanting to focus all of my attention on Daphne, since she’s already spoken for by Ben, I turn to scan the rest of the table. I plaster a wide smile on my face and make eye contact with each woman, until I reach the end of the circle. I purposely skip over Daphne’s obnoxious friend, opting instead to turn toward Phoebe, who has been friends with my brother since grade school.
The astute woman quickly picks up on my cue and resumes her role as announcer for the group. “As most of you know, Cooper is Ben’s older brother. I’ve known him for years and can vouch that he’s quite a catch, beyond his astounding good looks.”
Phoebe’s gaze darts away from mine as she makes the compliment. I’ve never thought about her in a romantic capacity because she was always merely one of my little brother’s pesky friends, but suddenly I’m seeing her in a new light. She’s all grown up now, and she has matured into a beautiful, bright woman.
Feeling frisky, I wink at her as soon as she glances back at me. I wonder if she might be my compatibility match and begin to hope that she is. It would probably irk Ben for a bit, which would make it even more fun. Besides, he can’t begrudge us finding happiness together, since he is now madly in love with Daphne.
Phoebe tucks her hair behind her ear as she uncharacteristically struggles to find words. “So, umm, yeah. Cooper is a successful businessman with a great personality. And, uh… being Ben’s brother means he’s also a Bridgerton.”
The ladies go wild at this revelation––squealing and whispering to each other.
It’s all I can do to keep from rolling my eyes. That blasted show is making my last name a curse. Women practically swoon upon hearing it, until they realize I’m not actually a devilish duke or even a valorous viscount.
Once the commotion dies down over my surname, Phoebe resumes her speech. “The woman selected as Cooper’s match is one lucky lady. In fact, I’m a bit jealous.”
Her revelation steals away the hope that Phoebe might announce her own name. I give her a sad half-smile as she continues. “The most compatible lady for Coop is…”
The women take her pause as their cue to begin hammering their palms on the table to create a drumroll.
Phoebe draws out the moment, allowing the suspense to build, before announcing, “For the second month in a row, Poppy Pendleton!”
I look around trying to figure out which one of these beauties is named Poppy. All eyes turn toward the shrew beside Daphne. I take an involuntary step backward, unable to believe my rotten luck. I would prefer to go out with any other woman at this table––with the possible exception of Daphne, since my brother would kill me for that.
Poppy turns a startled gaze up at me before holding her palms up and addressing the table at large in a loud voice, “I swear, I didn’t rig the results this time around.”
When she grabs her handbag and hops down from her stool, I glare down at her before saying, “I know you don’t think I’m taking you on a date.”
3
