Page 13 of Heart Me Up
I smirked as I set my phone alarm to go off in an hour. “I’ll check on you after your great aunt’s deadline no matter what. But you may owe me some pie.”
“Deal,” he said. “Thanks for doing this. I mean it.”
“Good luck!” I headed to the back room. Was it wrong of me to hope the blind date sucked?
* * *
Iwas trapped. Maxine’s brown terrier-like eyes bored into mine as she expounded on her opinion about the mayor’s small business initiative. She clutched the remains of her third Old Fashioned in her hand and waved it around for emphasis. I hadn’t gotten a word in edgewise in some time, and it’d been even longer since I’d checked on Foster. The alarm I’d set wouldn’t go off for another twenty minutes, but the bar was much more crowded now and I couldn’t see him from the doorway anymore. I was getting antsier the longer I stood there.
I’d seen the blind date arrive. He was moderately attractive in a Ken doll way. The next—and last—time I’d checked on them, they’d been talking without smiling, but Foster’s hair wasn’t mussed at all, so he hadn’t tried to signal me. What if they hit it off?
Looked like I had my answer about whether I was ready to ask somebody out.
“Maxine, I—”
“And if he thinks this will draw any new business to town, he—”
“Maxine! I have to go check on the friend I left at the bar.” I turned toward the door to the private room right as Daren the bartender walked by carrying a case of beer. “Gotta go, Maxine! See you next time!” I didn’t wait for a response.
“Daren!” I called. He jerked his head in my direction, and when he saw me he smiled with what looked like relief.
“Man, come with me. You’ve got to rescue your friend.” He waved for me to follow and headed at a fast clip toward the bar, impressively holding the heavy box over his head to wind through the crowd. I hurried after him, zipping up my windbreaker to hide the resort logo. Daren made it sound like I’d need to intervene, and I wanted to be ready.
As we walked, Daren half-shouted over his shoulder, “The blind date is an ass, and that’s my professional opinion. Right before I left to get this,” he lifted his chin toward the box he was carrying, “The guy was saying how cops are representatives of a totalitarian regime and all about oppressing the masses.” He shook his head. “Like he’s from the sixties or something. Your buddy was trying to interrupt but the blind date guy just kept talking.”
“Poor Foster.” Was it wrong to be glad this James guy was a tool?
“Yep. Your friend was looking pretty irritated.”
We finally got close enough so I could see Foster and his blind date still standing at the end of the bar. Foster’s hair was a mess. He’d been trying to signal me, and I hadn’t seen it. Crap.
“I got this,” I told Daren. He gave me a thumbs up and dodged around some people to get behind the bar. I only had seconds to formulate my strategy. What should I go with? Jealous one-night stand? Ex with issues?
I thought through my options as I wove my way toward my quarry. By the time I was close, I still hadn’t decided. Fuck it, I’d wing it based on how things seemed when I interrupted them. I smoothed my hands down the front of my jacket and ran into the lump in my pocket.
Pulling out the bag holding Jasper Isaacs’ rhinestone collar, I couldn’t stop from belting out a huge laugh. Perfect. I hoped Foster’d meant it when he’d said I could be as embarrassing as I wanted.
Challenge accepted.
Chapter6
Foster
I hadn’t even madeit forty-five minutes through my blind date, but screw the pies. I didn’t know what’d happened to Craig but I couldn’t wait for a rescue anymore. This guy was a complete idiot and rude to boot. Aunt Charlotte would have to be disappointed I couldn’t hack an entire hour with him. From a distance the guy was attractive, tall with short blond hair and blue eyes, but damn, the things coming out of his mouth.
He was currently pontificating about black helicopters flown by United Nations troops. I’d stopped trying to ask questions.
“Listen, James,” I interrupted, ready to get out of this conversation and this bar.
“It’s okay, Foster,” he said earnestly. “It’s obvious you were indoctrinated along with the rest of your police academy class, but I know you can’t speak about it in public.”
“James, I’m—”
“Foster!” My name was screeched from behind me. I turned and there was Craig. Finally.
“Craig!” I yelled.Please get me out of here!
Craig skipped—literally skipped—up to us. He batted his eyes at me like a drunk twink at last call. “Foster, honey, I know you said to stay home, but look what came in the mail! I couldn’t wait to show it to you!” He handed me a gray fabric pouch and turned to James, who seemed annoyed at the interruption.
