Page 45 of Hypnotized By Love
That sounded like a good point to me.
Bridget shot it down like a rear gunner. “Neither one of you would be able to date a single man in a hundred-mile radius if we abided by that code.”
That made my sister laugh, and even I had to smile a little, but my smile faded when Bridget turned to me and said, “You didn’t tell her about my game plan?”
Sierra spoke before I could. “I have not heard about a game plan. This is the first time I’ve seen her since the night you all went out on the world’s weirdest date.”
“Well, I was trying to get them together and talking to each other. I pointed out some of their more noble qualities and the kind things they do so that they’d see each other in a new light.”
“Good for you for thinking outside the box,” Sierra said.
“You shouldn’t be admiring her,” I told her.
“Why not? She was clever.”
Bridget turned Lulabelle’s bag so that the dog could wheeze toward us. “I understand that this is not my business, but I literally want to know a hundred and fourteen percent of what is going on right now with you and Mason.”
Despite her bubbly statement, there was something off about Bridget. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, though. She was smiling and making her jokes and quips, but underneath the surface, something else was going on.
Her mom really must not be doing well. I wanted to ask her about it, but I knew that if she wanted to talk about it, she would tell me. So instead of asking, I caught them up as quickly as I could, including why I’d agreed to have dinner with him tonight.
Sierra pursed her lips slightly and then said, “He’s taking you to your favorite restaurant and you said yes?”
“He basically blackmailed me,” I protested.
Bridget gestured at the space between her and my sister. “If Sierra and I were detectives on an episode ofLaw & Order, this would be when we exchanged knowing glances.”
“Right.” Sierra nodded. “I’m sorry, but your story doesn’t add up. Nobody could blackmail you into anything.” She left the rest of her implication unspoken—that I was going because I wanted to. I heard it, anyway.
“See? This is why I didn’t pursue him,” Bridget said. “It’s obvious to everyone that he’s into Sinclair here and no one else stood a chance. And I don’t know if his feelings are completely one sided.”
Her using Mason’s nickname for me caused a twisting sensation in the middle of my chest, which rendered me a little speechless.
Which was probably a good thing because if I told her that the notion I could have feelings for Mason was so totally off base, someone would have made a joke about me protesting too much.
It was probably better to remain silent than to give them more encouragement.
“Ooh, maybe we could tag along tonight and watch from a distance,” Sierra suggested, like me being forced to spend time with Mason was some kind of spectator sport.
“I’d be willing to lay odds on whether or not the night ends in a kiss,” Bridget said.
“I’ll take that bet,” I said, finally finding my voice. “A million to one against because that is not happening.”
And hours later, as I sat alone at Flavio’s, there was no chance I was going to lose that bet.
In large part because Mason hadn’t bothered to show up.
He’d gone to all this trouble to ask me to join him on this outing, had made me get dressed up in one of my cutest outfits, had repeatedly called it a date, and then he was a no-show.
It shouldn’t have surprised me, given that he’d done it to me before. Maybe he’d call me seven years from now to tell me how scared he’d been to go out with me tonight and how he’d thought it was too much of a commitment and it freaked him out. Make it a real full-circle moment.
Flavio’s had always been my favorite place to eat growing up. It was brightly lit, with twinkling lights running along the wooden beams overhead. The burnt-orange walls were covered with multicolored art and tchotchkes. A man playing the acoustic guitar sang love songs on the small stage in the corner.
This was where I’d come to celebrate all the big events of my life—and also where I’d come to drown my sorrows.
Only now, since I was finally old enough, I could drown them in actual liquor instead of fried ice cream. There was a top-shelf bottle of tequila that I’d always wanted to try, and I told the bartender to pour me a shot.
I’d take a rideshare home and come back tomorrow to pick up my car. Tonight I was going to drink to my own stupidity and enjoy myselfwithout worrying what anybody else might think about it. I hadn’t done this in years, and it felt a little overdue.
