“Mindy?”
“I—” I began to say, not knowing how I’m going to get out of this one. At that exact moment, Brianna Adams, my best friend and ex-partner in crime—and now part-owner of the Beangal’s Den—walks through the door, her adorable little boy, Rafe, balanced expertly on her right hip.
Suddenly, I’m struck by an idea, my face lighting up like a light bulb. “Of course, Harold,” I say cheerfully, regaining my composure. “He’ll be coming. He’s been wanting to meet you for forever!”
I can practically feel my Mom beaming through the phone. “Perfect! I’ll be expecting you both. See you soon, love.”
The line goes dead, and I’m quick to pocket my cell as I wave Brianna over to the counter. She’s halfway there when the disgruntled woman from earlier jumps up from her seat. Apparently, she’s finished with her drink and not satisfied in the least.
“You were wrong,” she says loudly at me, brushing by Brianna to get to me. “It wasn’t worth the wait. I’ve tasted far better, like the Unicorn Frappuccino they serve at the place on the other side of town.” She shakes her head angrily and almost yells, “You guys suck. I’m never coming here again!” Cutting her eyes at me, she spins around and walks off, nearly running into Brianna on her way out.
Brianna’s forehead crinkles into a frown as she reaches the counter. “Having a bad day, I take it?” She asks.
My chest fills with warmth as my eyes fall on my good friend. Dressed in a white and yellow flower dress that has a low V-cut with her long brown hair pulled into a lazy bun, she looks absolutely voluptuous. Shit, had I known pregnancy could do that, I would’ve gotten knocked up years ago.
“Besides the A/C not working and being overrun for over half the morning? Business as usual,” I say dismissively. With my mind on my idea, the dissatisfied customer is already old news. “We were a little behind earlier.”
“I feel sorry for you. Someone’s been called about the A/C,” Brianna says. She pauses and frowns again. “And what the hell’s a Unicorn Frappuccino?”
I roll my eyes. “It’s all the rage right now. What rock have you been hiding under?”
“Have you tried it?” Brianna asks curiously.
I shake my head. “Hell, no! I have a friend who did and she was shitting glitter and rainbows all week.”
“Mindy!” Brianna protests.
I shake my head. “I’m serious! It’s a real drink.”
Brianna looks like she’s about to argue and then thinks better of it, shaking her head. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Good,” I say, reaching across the counter to tug on Rafe’s small hand. He giggles as I shake it. He’s a spitting image of both his parents, with adorable baby blues and dirty-blonde hair. “How’s my little man doing?”
Brianna smiles, her eyes lighting up as she looks at her baby boy. “Good. He’s talking even more now and can almost form a full sentence.”
“That’s awesome.” I grin at Rafe and soften my tone into a voice as sweet as sugar. “Can you say a sentence for Aunt Mindy? Huh, Rafey?”
“Hungry!” Rafe says, reaching for his mom’s left breast.
“Rafe stop it!” Brianna snaps, grabbing Rafe’s little arm before he can pull her boob out in public, her cheeks turning red. “Sorry,” she mutters. “He does that all the time.”
I shake my head. I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. “Takes after his Daddy, and I don’t blame him, Jersey Maid. You look like you can feed the village with those milk jugs.”
“Mindy!”
“Girl, I’m serious. What are you, a tripleD now? If I ever run out of creamer, I know just the person to call.”
“I’m gonna leave!” Brianna threatens.
I let out a laugh. “Oh my God, lighten up, will you? It was just a joke.”
Brianna scowls. “Well, you’re not funny.”
“Yeah, I am.” The grin on my face slowly fades as I remember my idea.
“So how’s Gavin?” I ask, clearing my throat. Gavin, Brianna’s husband, is almost just as good a friend as Brianna is to me. A former football star, he’s settled down into small-town life with surprising ease. But I would think it would be hard not to with the beautiful ranch they moved into. “He enjoying fatherhood much?”
Brianna nods, a smile coming to her face. “Very much so. He can’t wait until Rafe is old enough to go fishing with him. He talks about it every day.”
“What about work?” I ask, leaning in with intense interest.
Brianna gazes at me for a moment. “Well, with the money he made during his football career and his investments, he’s not hard up for a job. He’s taking it easy right now. The kids love the football camp he runs, mentoring disadvantaged children, and helping local actors—”
Brianna’s talking, but I’m starting to zone out, my mind drifting to my predicament.
It seems she notices, and Brianna stares at me suspiciously. As my best friend, she always knows when something is up. “Mindy Price, what is going on in that head of yours?”
“Umm . . . I need to ask you something,” I admit.
Brianna arches an eyebrow as I feel sweat begin to form on my brow. “Oh, really? What’s that?”
I stand there silently, not knowing how to form my next words, my heart pounding like a battering ram. Jesus, she’s not going to make this easy.
“Mindy,” she presses. “I’m waiting.”
I’m unable to part my lips. I don’t know how to tell her about the lie that I’m caught up in.
“Mindy!” Bri cracks.
“Mindy!” Rafe echoes, pointing at me.
Just say it!
Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. And when I open them, I finally ask, “Know any hot guys named Harold?”
Oliver
“Pair of aces,” I announce with a grin, turning my cards over on the wooden table and gathering the pot from the middle of the table in one giant swoop. “Bend over, buddy. Your ass is mine.”
“Fuck, man!” Jason Woods, a twenty-four-year-old friend and fellow businessman yells, slapping his hand down on the table with enough force to cause some of my chips to go flying off, his face an angry red. “That’s the second fucking time you called my bluff,” he complains.
I sit back in my seat and appraise him, hiding a smirk. Jason’s not a good poker player. He’s okay when he’s winning, but whenever he starts losing or is under pressure, I can read him like a book. With his tells, I can easily see if he’s bluffing or if he has a good hand.
“He’s a lucky bastard,” Kevin White, another buddy of mine in his early thirties who’s sitting beside me, agrees. Shaking his head, he rolls back the sleeves of his white dress shirt, his blonde hair glinting against the single light hanging above our heads. Having lost nearly all night, he’s not as pissed as Jason is. But then again, Kevin never gets that pissed about anything. I bet he could lose his life savings and his reaction would be mild.
“Sorry, boys,” I say with a grin and then joke, “I taught Phil Ivey everything he knows.”
Jason lets out a derisive snort. “Dude, you’re so full of shit. Your whole game is about sitting there with that cocky smirk on your face and getting lucky on the river.”
I huff out a short laugh. “Don’t hate. A win’s a win.”
“And a dick’s a dick,” Jason snarls.
“Hey, hey, now,” Gavin Adams says sternly from across the table, shaking his head at Jason. Dressed all in black, he looks like the dark knight with golden hair as he scowls. “Let’s not. We all know Oliver’s good. We’re all grown men here. There’s no reason to get pissed when we lose. This is like the third time you’ve popped off after a loss, and it’s getting old.”
Gavin’s words seemed to calm Jason at once. “You’re right.” He barely looks my way as he adds, “Sorry, Oliver. Tired of losing, that’s all.”