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I let out the breath that had caught in my chest At least it was a shitty date Not that I wanted her to put up with an asshole, but the thought of her out with souy with his hands all over her ht he could go out with my fake fiancée in the first place

A h me before I tapped her name

“Bad date?” I said, before she could even say hello But it was the question I needed answered, even if I didn’t want to know at the same time

“If only I’d rather be on a date with Hannibal Lecter than where I ah her words

“Where the hell are you?”

“I was at a symphony cocktail reception for corporate sponsors”

“Lucky you That sounds drier than a box of Saltines in the Sahara”

“I’ve already fallen asleep standing up twice Are you at a club?”

“It’s a driving range nightclub combo, Vertex Golf”

“It opened recently, right? Ads were all over the radio”

“Opening night was tonight”

Her words hisper quiet “Are you on a date?”

Why did it make me so damn happy she’d even asked? I suppressed my smile “In a way”

“How’s your date feel about you calling me in the middle of it?” Her words were a little clipped

“I’m sure they’d be fine with it They’d probably want you to join us”