That didn’t happen.
I’m sitting on a stool at the bar in Durie’s, watching a guy in a green sweater hit on Emma Owens.
After catching a glimpse of her through the window on my way home, I stepped inside.
That’s when the blond guy made his move.
He sat down at her table with a martini in one hand and a bottle of beer in the other.
She smiled at him. He took it as an invitation, and they’ve been talking for the past twenty minutes. I’ve spent the bulk of that time reading over the text message exchange I had with Drake earlier.
He wants me to keep Emma in New York until he lands back at LaGuardia. I don’t know the woman’s schedule or when she’s planning on flying back to Seattle, but he made it clear that hewants her here when he steps back on American soil as a married man.
I’ll relay the message, but ultimately she’ll make that decision on her own.
I have no intention of sticking around Manhattan that long. I want out as soon as possible.
“Can I get you another soda water?”
I glance at the server who brought the glass in front of me. The last time I sat at this bar for a drink, everyone who worked here was an army vet. I used to drop in a few times a week when the awning out front displayed the name Eager Pour. Back then, the owner was willing to listen to my bullshit before she’d cut me off after my second drink and send me home.
“I’m good,” I answer curtly.
“You’re Case, right?” She leans her elbow on the bar next to me. “Drake has told me so much about you that I feel like I already know you.”
I can tell when a woman is flirting, but that’s not what’s happening here.
I recognized her name when she first introduced herself after I walked in tonight. She has to be the same Kendall who had a one-night stand with my best friend last summer.
I huff out a laugh. “Did he?”
“He showed me a picture of the two of you from your college days.” She lets out a soft giggle. “You haven’t changed as much as he has.”
That’s an understatement.
Drake didn’t visit a barber for years. He’s as clean cut as they come now. It’s a far cry from the longhaired, bearded guy I said goodbye to when I left New York.
He’s sought refuge at my home in California a few times over the years. We talk daily, but our face-to-face time is rare.
“Why don’t you join Emma?” She questions with a grin. “I’m sure she’d appreciate the distraction.”
Reading between the lines, I pop an eyebrow. “Do you know the guy with her?”
She nods. “Ned. He’s a regular. When he spots a pretty new face in here, he always buys them a drink.”
If I didn’t know Emma, I’d buy her a drink too so I can’t fault the guy for that.
“He’s harmless,” she goes on. “I’ve never seen him seal the deal. He always walks out of here alone.”
That should be my cue to call it a night and head back to my apartment, but I stay planted on the stool.
I have a clear view of Emma’s face. She’s a beautiful woman with a smile that could stop any man in his tracks. I see no harm in watching her from a distance for a few more minutes.
Kendall glances at the phone in my hand. “Have you heard from Drake since he left?”
I won’t betray my closest friend to appease the curiosity of one of his ex-lovers. If he wants Kendall to know the details of his wedding, he’ll fill her in.
Downing the rest of the water in my glass, I lightly tap it on the top of the bar. “I’ll get another one of these.”
