Page 87 of Lucky
Lucky fist-bumps the men and I hug the women before he pulls me down onto a love seat across from Foster and Bowie Jane.
“Where’s Mazzy?”I ask, looking around for her.
“Probably in the back with Leo getting ready.”Lucky had told me that Leo is a close friend of Mazzy’s as well as her singing partner.
I loop my arm through his.“And she has no clue this is going down?”
“Not a clue.”He leans in, warm breath brushing my ear.
“This is pretty amazing,” I murmur, looking around.
“Every woman deserves this,” Lucky says in an almost offhanded way.“The whole damn crowd looking on while the guy tells the world he’s all in.”
I can’t speak.My throat’s tight, heart full.I don’t even think he realizes that such words have the potential to explode ovaries.
He frowns, his thumb brushing mine.“You okay?”
I nod.“Yeah.Just… happy for them.”
And I am.But there’s also this soft ache in my chest, this weightless hope fluttering under my ribs like maybe, someday, that kind of gesture might belong to me too.
A waitress comes by and takes drink orders and returns so efficiently with them, I suspect she’s magic.
“Think I have time to use the restroom before she comes out?”I ask Lucky.
“Yes, but even if she starts before you get back, he’s not going to drop the question until after her set.No need to rush.”
I lean in and smack a quick peck on his cheek and then head toward the back of the building where I saw signs for the bathrooms.
The hallway is dim, lined with framed photos of indie singers.The bathroom itself is small, just a sink and two stalls with both doors closed, so I settle in to wait.
Two women walk in behind me—early thirties, perfect hair and heels that click against the tile like punctuation on a typewriter.
I smile at them.
They stare back at me with wide eyes and I know right away they recognize me.What’s worse, they don’t say a word, which means they’re not one of my regular fans because those people are not hesitant to walk right up and hug me.
One stall door opens and a frazzled waitress comes out, sidestepping me to get to the sink.I enter the stall and the minute the lock snicks into place, I hear one of the women.“Oh my God.That’s the girl on TikTok doing the dating experiment with Lucky Branson.”
The other lady snorts.“You mean the one pretending to be average so she can date Lucky Branson.”
My face burns as I listen to them.They don’t even try to be subtle.They mean for me to hear them.
“It’s so tacky.”
“She’s clearly using him.No way he actually likes her.”
“Delusional.”
Their words pause as the stall next to me opens.One of the women enters it and it gets me into motion.I quickly pee and then exit the stall with my head down, knowing the other woman is still free-ranging in the bathroom.There’s not a lot of room, so I turn sideways to step past her and nearly stumble when she whispers, “TikTok whore.”
“What the fuck did you just call her?”a pissed-as-hell voice I recognize says, and my head pops up to see Farren standing right inside the door.Her eyes meet mine and then flick to the woman who’s stopped in her tracks, the stall door half open.
“I didn’t say anything,” the woman says dismissively and walks into the stall, closing it behind her.I hear her soft laughter as I wash my hands.
Farren watches as I dry them as quickly as I can and then I dart past her, humiliated she witnessed that.
She follows me out of the restroom, grabbing my wrist to halt me.“Are you okay?”
