Lucy’s bare shoulders heave with exertion. Her evening gown clings to her petite figure, navy blue sequined fabric glittering in the stage light. The camera zooms in on her, and she blinks a couple of times, like she’s coming back to herself. Her cheeks blush a fierce red, and she sucks in a breath before squeaking out an apology into the microphone.
She drops the mic to the ground, and the feedback echoes with an unpleasant thump and screech as she sprints off the stage as fast as her high heels will allow her.
Anton presses pause on the video, and the guys stare at me.
“Well,” Del says slowly. “Is she as screechy in real life?”
I frown. “She’s not screechy at all. She’s …” I search for the right word. “Unlike anyone I’ve known before. I mean, I don’t know her that well. We only met at the gala and then had that one dinner together, but yeah. She’s something … different.”
Lucy’s bashful, with an undercurrent of self-assurance. Like she wants to believe in herself, but checks the impulse. She’s got a quick wit and she’s a good listener. I noticed it in the rafters and again at the dinner table. I’m itching to ask her about the People’s Picks, if she meant what she said, and if she regrets any or all of it. But I get the sense Lucy is as skittish as one of the chickens in my backyard. She doesn’t know me well enough to trust me. I’m afraid that if I press her now, she’ll run away. I’m biding my time, trying not to think about her, and I’m failing miserably.
I blink out of my reverie to see a smile spread across Anton’s face.
I point at him. “I don’t like that look. Whatever you’re thinking, don’t say it. She and I arefriends.Friends with a capital F.”
Anton holds up his hands. “It’s nice to have friends. We’re your friends, right, fellas?”
“’Course we are,” Del says, and Poe nods.
“But we don’t have you tongue-tied and involuntarily humming ‘Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo’ like Lucy Dupree does,” he says.
“I’m not tongue-tied,” I defend. “I’m doing nothing involuntarily. I’m my own man. I have a date when we get back from Buffalo.”
“With Lucy?” Del’s eyes brighten.
“No, with a woman I met a couple months back at that mixer in downtown Milwaukee.”
They don’t need to know that I cold-texted someone because I had gone down a Lucy Dupree rabbit hole, and I was in a dangerous spot of starting to care, starting to become too invested in this enigma of a woman. I needed to do something about it. Iscrolled through my contacts, and “Amber, hot girl from the MKE mixer” seemed to be what the doctor ordered.
Anton frowns. “Another jersey chaser?”
I throw up my hands. “How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t mind when a woman appreciates my profession.”
“So you’ve said.” Anton shakes his head with dismay, but then shrugs. “That’s good, then. All good. You probably don’t care that Rose told me she ran into Lucy shopping for chili ingredients. Sounds like she’ll be at your grandparents’ place tonight.”
The hair on the back of my neck stands at attention. As much as I’m trying not to dwell on Lucy, I add every little thing I learn about her to my mental puzzle. I have the pieces of her I experienced at the gala. Fearless. Fun. Flirty. The not-so-insignificant piece of information that she’s never been kissed, which, I can’t lie, I’ve thought about on more than one occasion. Then I’ve added in what she told me when she came to the Cinderella call, about how none of that other stuff was the real her. How she’s solitary and introverted. I mull over what this new bit of information might mean. Either Lucy has a soft spot for chili and square dancing, or she doesn’t want to let my grandparents down. The thought of that makes my chest feel tight. Lucy cares.
Could she potentially be going because she wants to see me?
I shake my head ever so slightly. Doubtful. When I texted her the address earlier in the week, her only response was a thumbs-up emoji. She may as well have shut the door in my face. No quicker way to end a conversation than to drop one of those in the chat.
I started to think I came on too strong. I was my usual outgoing, flirty self. She seemed into that at the gala, but I’m a lot, and I’m not for everyone. So that thumbs-up felt like she was sayingthanksandleave me aloneat the same time.
So I did.
But now…
“What are you waiting for?” Anton motions me toward the door. “Get over there.”
I stick up my nose and start shoving my stuff into my bag. “I was going there already to see my grandparents, thank you very much.”
“Uh-huh, and you had exactly zero percent urgency.” Del strokes his beard. “Now, you can’t wait to get out of here.”
I force myself to move more slowly.
“Don’t forget about us when you become obsessed with Lucy Dupree,” Poe goads.
I roll my eyes. “Not going to happen.”
