“Not too many games.”
“Oh, Andi, you know there’s no point in coming if you don’t leave with a bellyache from too much pizza and a headache from too many video games.”
“Yes, yes, yes!” Gabby says, siding with him, and that’s pretty much what happens from that point on.
Reid continues to shatter my walls with his desire to make Gabby happy. Who can blame a girl? By girl, I mean me. My husband left; Gabby’s dad deserted her. Why shouldn’t I want to believe someone, anyone, would want to make her smile?
“I know it’s not James Beard or five-star rated, but this pizza is pretty good. What do you say?” Reid nudges my arm and slides into the booth next to me. “Look,” he says and points across our booth toward Gabby driving a motorcycle. “She’s good.”
“She is,” I whisper. “She really is. Thanks for doing this.”
“She’s an easy little girl to like. Smart. Witty. But if I’m honest, I’m here for you. You’re smart and witty. And sexy. While I’d love to say my intentions are totally benign, they’re not. I want to get to know you, and guess what? I happen to be smart too. I know you and Gabby are a package deal, so if I have to get to know you at FunZone, I will.”
My brain stops functioning. This guy, Reid. Honest and good to a fault.
Of course, I’m lying about who I am and what I do, and that we’ve sort of met outside this whole mucked-up shit already. Not a great way to start, but I’m doing my personal best.
“Andi, say something.” He’s close. Leaning in, taking up my personal space, and still keeping one eye on Gabby.
I nod. “Okay, I’d like to get to know you.” Because what else does someone say to a gorgeous man laying it on the line for them?
“Mom!” Gabby interrupts the moment with a strand of tickets as long as her.
“Wow, look at that!”
My daughter is bouncing on her toes, her eyes glittery with excitement, and I’m not going to lie. Mine probably match hers.
“Can we go look at the prizes?” she asks.
“Sure thing.” I stand and tug on her ponytail full of curls.
“Let’s roll,” Reid says as he pushes up from the table.
Standing in front of a glass case full of shit made in China, Gabby could clearly be here for a while.
Fidgeting, I feel Reid intertwine his fingers with mine and squeeze. The inappropriate touching should feel rushed or out of place, but it doesn’t. Soothing comes to mind. It’s calming—
“Look!” Gabby pulls down a giant stuffed cat. It’s gray and matted, somewhat disgusting and cute at the same time. “It looks like Bosco, Leona’s cat. I want this.”
“That’ll be five thousand tickets,” the attendant says.
“Here.” Gabby hands him her stockpile.
“You need a few more thousand,” the idiot attendant says, spoiling her mood, and she frowns.
“Oh.”
“Come on, the thing probably is harboring lice.” I wave my hand at the zillion other prizes.
Hand back on her hip, Gabby glares at the attendant like he’s the enemy.
Not usually one to fall for her fits of disappointment, I’m pondering how much the dumb animal costs to make overseas. Probably a buck ...
“Here.” Reid shoves some money over the counter. “We’ll just buy it. I see there’s a price next to the ticket value.”
“Reid,” I say, my tone warning. “That’s not necessary.” I think it’s ridiculous, despite my wanting to murder the attendant a moment ago.
“Here you go, Gabby,” he says, ignoring my protest.
