Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(54)

“You guys hoping to liven the party up?”

“What?” Liz turned to Dan. It wasn’t fair to blame him, but he had caused all this to happen.

“Carter. I saw him leave…”

“We had a disagreement.” Liz blew out a breath and walked back to the bar. Her drink was sitting there with its frilly umbrella like a girl dressed up for a date and left behind. She knew just how it felt.

“Sorry to hear that.” Dan was so close now she could smell his cologne, feel the heat of his body. But rather than appealing, he just felt... hot... next to her.

“What were you arguing about, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Ironically, you,” she muttered against her straw.

“Me?”

“He seemed to think you asked me out on a date.”

“I did ask you out on a date.” Dan’s lips tilted with confident sensuality.

“Oh.” Liz could only stare. Daniel J. O’Connell, the heartthrob of Sugar Falls High had asked her out? Why did that not excite her the way she’d always imagined it would?

“For the valedictorian of our class, you’re a bit slow on the uptake aren’t you?” he chuckled.

“I’m only in town a couple of weeks. Why would you want to go on a date?”

“Maybe I like what I see.” Dan’s eyes slid to her chest, and Liz fought the urge to hunch her shoulders. He looked up again. “So tell me, is your brother in town?”

Liz shook her head. “I don’t know. We’re not that close. Why?”

“Just curious. He always enjoyed a good party.” Dan swiped on his cell phone, stared at it a moment then shoved it in his pocket. “Never mind. Say, I’m gonna go mingle. You hanging around here for a while?”

“Seems so.”

“Great. Keep my seat warm.”

Liz gagged on her straw and wondered how the night could get worse.

Just then her phone rang in her clutch. She pulled it out. Perfect.

“Grant!” She knew her voice was falsely bright, but she wasn’t feeling herself. She took a long draw on her straw and let the ice-cold rum-soaked fruit juices numb her tongue.

“Liz, I...” There was a pause and Liz smiled tautly to some classmates hurrying by on the way to the video presentation. “Where are you?”

“Oh. Right. Funny that. Believe it or not, I’m at my class reunion.” She took another long sip and stopped because she was on the verge of brain freeze. “Long story.”

“I thought you hated high school.”

“Very true. Very true. Yet here I am.” She bobbed her straw in her drink. “I got cornered at the local grocery store by Valerie Stinson, chair of the organizing committee. Couldn’t say ‘no.’”

“Stinson? Isn’t she the snotty bimbo you said hated you for no reason?”

Liz caught sight of the bimbo in question and nodded. “Yup. One and the same.”

“Why didn’t you just blow her off?”

“It’s a small town. People talk. Besides, I didn’t hate everyone.” Until now, she thought irritably, remembering her non-ride home.

“What do you care what people think? You’re only there for a few days.”

Good point.

“Anyway,” Grant continued, “I sent you a few more files to run some numbers on. You think you could handle it for me?”

“Sure,” Liz agreed absently, wishing, yet again, she were smart like Bailey who routinely blew these events off. Oh, well. A shame Mandy hadn’t come back. It would have been fun to catch up with her. Or Eileen.

Liz sighed and realized belatedly Grant was still talking. “The end of the week is fine. I sent everything I have so far...”

“I’m sorry,” Liz interrupted, “poor connection. Are you passing off this project entirely?”

“It shouldn’t take more than a day or two—”

“But, Grant, I have work to do here! What’s the rush? I didn’t think they needed this until June.”

“Ethan wants it done before… before the end of the month.”

Liz stared into the distance and shook her head. Was no one reasonable anymore?

“You know what?” Grant said. “Never mind. It’s clear you’re busy. I’m sorry I asked. I had hoped you’d be willing to help—”

Liz rubbed her temples. “I am. I am. I…” She let out a cleansing breath. “When I get home, I’ll look it over and see what I can do, okay? I’ve just had a less than fun evening so far. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

“Sure. We’ll talk later.” There was a pause. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

“I hope your evening improves.”

“Yeah. Me, too.”

Liz tucked her phone back in her clutch and sucked on her straw as she watched the video presentation from the bar. It was the predictable collage of “candid” snapshots from senior year set to an unpleasant medley of all the songs she associated with awkward high school dances.

Shoving her half-finished cocktail aside, she stood up. Even if she had to walk the whole way, she promised herself sulkily, she was going home.

Five self-sorry steps from the bar, Dan reappeared at her side.