I look back at Miles.
Duffy doesn’t make my insides hum.
“Do you all work for him?” I ask, taking the last drink of my soda.
“Yep. Everyone except Kevin,” she says, nodding. “Brandon and I have been with him the longest, but the company keeps growing. Miles takes on so many charity projects, he needed a bigger staff to handle the ones that pay the bills, so he’s hired a few more peoplethe last couple years.” She glances across the room. “A lot of the people at that table also work with us, but they have anactualtrivia league, so they refuse to play on our teams.”
I chuckle. “There’s a league for trivia? With teams?”
She laughs. “Yeah, and apparentlywedon’t take it seriously enough. One of them told me that we laugh too loud and we disrespect the game.”
“They have matching shirts,” I say, noticing that every person at the table is wearing a red shirt with the wordsRiskyQuiznesson the front.
“Oh yeah. They don’t joke about trivia.”
One of the women glances in our direction and waves. Kendra waves back.
“That’s Julia,” she says as the woman stands and starts walking toward us. “She’s married to Bennett, the guy sitting next to her. They’ve been friends with Miles since before his divorce.”
I glance at Miles just as he looks my way, lifting his chin and mouthing,You good?He’s checking on me like Lloyd Dobler inSay Anything.
I nod back and give him a thumbs-up.
“So... you’re the infamousClaire.” Julia slides in and blocks my view of Miles. “Bennett is convinced you’re going to take Miles off the market, and every woman who’s been carrying a torch for him is going to be in mourning.” She laughs and looks at Kendra. “Hey, Ken.”
“Hey.”
My laugh is nervous. “No, Miles and I are just friends.”
Julia glances over her shoulder to where I can only assume Miles is still standing, then turns back to me. “All I know is he’s turned down three plus-one dates in the past month—”
“Plus-one dates?”
“Oh yeah, Miles is the perfect plus-one,” Kendra says.
“I don’t understand.”
“He didn’t tell you.” She smiles and shakes her head. “Of course he didn’t.”
My frown deepens. “Tell me what?”
“He’s a plus-one,” Julia explains. “It’s a specific designation for people to attend social events without the worry—”
“—or the baggage,” Kendra interjects.
“And he lays everything out ahead of time, so people know what to expect. So if you’re single and of a certain age and you have a work function or a family event or a wedding or a fundraiser or something, he’s the guy you bring with you. He’ll keep his hands to himself, and he’s so outgoing, he could make conversation with a houseplant.”
Kendra twists her glass in her hands. “But in the last few weeks, he hasn’t made himself available for anything.”
“Well, it’s not because of me.”
The two women exchange a look, but they don’t say anything else.
“Miles goes on a lot of dates,” I say, certain of this.
“Yeah,” Julia says. “As a plus-one.”
“And because the women he helps pass his name around to their friends,” Kendra adds.
