Page 54 of The Love Interest

SISSY: Are you having a beer?

ME: You don’ know me!

ME: Yeah you do. Yes. I am. How are you? You should go to bed soon.

SISSY: I’m doing great, honey. Your dad misses you already. He’s been very grumpy lately, so maybe you should call him sometime.

ME: OMG. Grumpy men. Can’t live with ’em. Can’t cheer ’em up. Can’t shoot ’em.

SISSY: You said it, not me. Any grumpy men in particular you’re trying to cheer up and thinking about shooting? Is that why you’ve been sooooooo busy?

ME: Um. No.

It was so hard not telling my mother about Emmett when I saw her, but I didn’t want to get her hopes up. I also didn’t want to tell her because I had a feeling she’d tell me to forget about him, at least until May. She probably would have made me do an energy healing exercise to visualize cutting the cord between myself and him, and I’m not ready to do that yet.

ME: Just grumpy men in general, I mean. Any requests? For cock pic backgrounds?

SISSY: You haven’t been to Times Square yet, have you?

ME: Oh, good one! I should take him to the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree!

Ellen finally drops off another pint of beer and scowls at me. “Anything else?”

“Just another one of your beautiful smiles, please.”

She rolls her eyes and walks off.

“Thank you, Ellen! You’re the best!” I refuse to become a New Yorker if that means accepting that rude waitresses hate me. I’m gonna tip Ellen so big she’s going to want to adopt me.

ME: I have to go, Mom. Love you.

SISSY: Love you, baby girl. Take that cock for a walk one of these days, you hear me?

ME: Roger that.

I take a giant swig of frothy ale, and when I’m licking my upper lip, I look up to find Emmett Ford at a table near the door, clear across the room from me. He’s frowning. His piercing blue eyes are burning a hole through my blouse. His gaze slowly travels up to my face, and I can’t help but smile at him.

I’m so happy to see him.

I forget to unbutton my blouse and lean forward like a shameless hussy.

I forget to angle my legs to the side and pull up my skirt to expose my thighs and my sexy knee-high boots.

I forget to breathe.

Because I’m so happy to see him and I can’t stop smiling.

After about ten seconds, I witness a miracle on East Houston Street.

The corners of Emmett Ford’s lips slowly curve upward. His eyes light up. And it turns out he has teeth! Beautiful white ones.

I don’t get to see them for long though. He shakes his head, closes his mouth, and tries not to smile. Looking down at a menu, he rests his chin in one hand. Trying to cover his mouth so I can’t see it. I know that trick.

Nice try. I made you smile, Emmett Ford. I gotcha!

I take another big gulp of beer.

When he glances over at me, I’m grinning at him. Big time. His brows knit together. I might look insane. I might not care. I’m a tipsy, titsy, horny, almost drunk twenty-five-year-old woman who needs to get some. Like yesterday.