Even the Score(24)

“You said don’t leave the table. I got it, Mom!” she repeated sarcastically, holding on to the table for stability. I sighed and hurried through the crowd, weaving in and out as fast as I could so that I could get back to the table before she passed out underneath it. As I stood at the bar, waiting for the bartender to notice me, I found myself getting lost in all the stuff on the wall. My eyes darted from frame to frame, case to case, squinting to see what was in each one. It was a dream come true. I wanted to live there. As I continued scanning, my gaze drifted to booth behind the bar . . . and I froze. Sitting at the table in the far corner was Andy Shaw, the agent who I’d interviewed with earlier in the week. I pinched my eyes shut and looked away as fast as I could, but I’d lingered long enough to see that he was sitting with Brody Murphy, Justin Sutter, and Viper, the male Madonna of the NHL.

“Oh my God,” I mumbled under my breath as I pulled my hand up over my eyes. I silently begged the bartender to turn around so I could return to my table way on the other side of the bar, far away from them. With any luck, he hadn’t noticed me, and I could talk Sadie into finishing her one drink and leaving.

“Hey, sweetie, what can I get you?” the bubbly redhead with the cute diamond nose ring asked as she dragged a glass along the ice pile.

First of all, don’t ever call me sweetie again. Let’s start with that.

I leaned in and spoke loudly. “Can I get a vodka cranberry and a Diet Coke?” While I was facing her, I stole a quick look past her at Andy’s booth, using her head as a shield. The three guys were still gabbing away, but Andy’s eyes were fixated on me.

Shit!

“Okay, coming right up.” The bartender smiled. As she turned to make the drinks, I reached out and gently caught her wrist.

“Sorry, my friend isn’t feeling well, and I don’t want to leave her alone. Any chance the waitress could bring these to the table all the way in the back corner over there?” I pointed.

“Sure, no problem,” she agreed pleasantly.

“Thanks so much!” I returned her smile and turned away from the bar, hurrying back to our table.

As I emerged from the crowd like a newborn baby fighting for life, I found just what I was hoping not to find . . . an empty table. Thankfully, no one had taken it over, but probably because that drunk, breast milk–filled lunatic had left both of our purses lying on top of it. I sighed and looked around, narrowing my eyes into the crowd as I looked for her hot-pink tank top. Panic built up inside of me. Sadie was drunk, really drunk, and if her purse was at the table, most likely her phone was at that table, so I had no way of even contacting her.

“Vodka cranberry and a Diet Coke?” a deep voice said from behind me almost immediately. I whipped around to Andy, standing behind me with a big grin on his face and a drink in each hand.

“Hey.” I tried to sound cheerful and not like he was obviously the last person on the planet I wanted to see at that moment.

He set the drinks on the table but didn’t leave like I was hoping. Trying to give him a subtle hint, I turned my back to him and went back to trying to find Sadie.

“I saw you at the bar and told Savannah I’d bring these to you. I’m surprised but really glad to see you here,” he shouted.

Thankful that I was facing away so he didn’t see me roll my eyes, I turned my head slightly toward him. “I doubt that.”

“No, seriously,” he came back again. “I feel terrible about the other day. About calling you a liar . . . and mostly about letting you leave my office without a job offer.”

Now he had my attention.

“What?” I asked, whipping around. I hadn’t meant to let myself sound as excited as I had.

“You were by far the best interview I had all week. I was an idiot for letting you go.” It was so loud in the bar that he had to lean in close to my ear so that I could hear him. His warm breath blew against my neck, sending chills all the way to my toes and back up again. His words were also slurred, not quite as bad as Sadie’s but enough for me to notice, so I was reserved in my excitement of where the conversation might be headed.

“Yeah? Well that was your fault for calling me a liar,” I snapped back defiantly.

“I know, and I feel awful about that.” Every time he spoke, he moved in closer and closer, to the point that his lips were practically brushing against my ear. I took a step forward, partly to get closer to the crowd and look for Sadie, and partly because I needed distance from Andy. Suddenly his hand was wrapped around my arm, just above my elbow. “Why aren’t you listening to me?” he asked with a frown.