was hope the rest of us would work things out, too, right?
“Take the next exit,” I instructed Christina, my eyes on the GPS map on my phone.
“He’s stopped a couple of miles from here, on Greenville.”
She pulled off the freeway and continued down the surface street. As we neared the
red dot on the map, I pulled the owner’s manual from the glove box and opened it,
holding it up to cover my face. I peeked discreetly over the top.
“There he is.” Christina kept her hand low but gestured to the apartment building
to our right.
I glanced that way to see Nick in the parking lot, opening his passenger door for
a woman with wavy brown hair. She wore jeans over boots, along with a western-cut
woman’s shirt pulled tight across her sizable bust. She was tall, probably five foot
nine or so, a good match for Nick’s six-foot-two-inch frame. She looked strong and
capable, like a woman who’d know how to gut a fish and field dress a deer.
“Damn,” I muttered. “She looks like Nick’s type.” I suppose I shouldn’t have been
surprised by that. After all, the two had prescreened each other and it’s not like
Nick would’ve chosen someone who was clearly not his type.
Christina narrowed her eyes as she looked at the two of them. “Don’t worry your pretty
little head, Tara. Ain’t nobody fallin’ for nobody tonight. Not on my watch.”
Did I have great friends or what?
She drove past the apartment complex and pulled into the parking lot of a used-car
dealership next door where we wouldn’t be spotted. We shooed away the three salesmen
stampeding toward us, waited until the GPS indicated Nick had a five-block lead, then
turned to follow him, maintaining a good distance.
Alicia sat up in the backseat, eyed herself in the rearview mirror, and said, “No
wonder Daniel doesn’t want to marry me. I look like crap.”
I knew Alicia. There was no sense arguing with her when she was in this kind of mood.
She picked up her purse from the floorboard and retrieved a comb, running it through
her hair to smooth it into place. She put on a coat of lipstick and patted her nose
with pressed powder.
After a few miles, the GPS indicated Nick had turned into the parking lot of Del Frisco’s.
I shrieked. “He’s taking her to a pricey steak house on their first date?” Their porterhouse
cost over fifty bucks. “He must be trying to impress her.” Damn! All he’d bought me today was a cup of coffee.
We made the block, stopping at an ATM so I could withdraw a couple of hundred dollars
to cover Alicia and Christina’s dinner. There went my manicure budget for the next
two months. But the least I could do was pay for their meals since they’d be spying
for me.
We returned to the restaurant. Christina parked around the side, where I’d be out
of sight of Nick’s truck. I handed Christina the stack of twenties and she and Alicia
headed inside, Alicia wobbling slightly on her heels.
I sat in the car with the windows rolled down a few inches, waiting. After a few minutes,
I received a brief text from Christina.
2 tables over.
Good. They’d been seated close to Nick and his date.
She texted me again. Ordered a bottle of cabernet.
I wasn’t sure if Christina was referring to herself and Alicia or to Nick and his
date. Alicia definitely didn’t need any more to drink.
My phone sat silent and still for an agonizing hour, but it might look suspicious
if Christina was texting me a play-by-play. What was happening inside? Was Nick meeting
the woman of his dreams? Laughing and bonding over red wine and red meat? Or were
my friends successfully interfering with his date?
Finally, I received another text from Christina. Mission accomplished.
I pulled up the map on my phone. According to the GPS app, Nick and his date had left
the parking lot and were on their way back to the woman’s apartment. No sign of Christina
and Alicia yet. I supposed I
“Take the next exit,” I instructed Christina, my eyes on the GPS map on my phone.
“He’s stopped a couple of miles from here, on Greenville.”
She pulled off the freeway and continued down the surface street. As we neared the
red dot on the map, I pulled the owner’s manual from the glove box and opened it,
holding it up to cover my face. I peeked discreetly over the top.
“There he is.” Christina kept her hand low but gestured to the apartment building
to our right.
I glanced that way to see Nick in the parking lot, opening his passenger door for
a woman with wavy brown hair. She wore jeans over boots, along with a western-cut
woman’s shirt pulled tight across her sizable bust. She was tall, probably five foot
nine or so, a good match for Nick’s six-foot-two-inch frame. She looked strong and
capable, like a woman who’d know how to gut a fish and field dress a deer.
“Damn,” I muttered. “She looks like Nick’s type.” I suppose I shouldn’t have been
surprised by that. After all, the two had prescreened each other and it’s not like
Nick would’ve chosen someone who was clearly not his type.
Christina narrowed her eyes as she looked at the two of them. “Don’t worry your pretty
little head, Tara. Ain’t nobody fallin’ for nobody tonight. Not on my watch.”
Did I have great friends or what?
She drove past the apartment complex and pulled into the parking lot of a used-car
dealership next door where we wouldn’t be spotted. We shooed away the three salesmen
stampeding toward us, waited until the GPS indicated Nick had a five-block lead, then
turned to follow him, maintaining a good distance.
Alicia sat up in the backseat, eyed herself in the rearview mirror, and said, “No
wonder Daniel doesn’t want to marry me. I look like crap.”
I knew Alicia. There was no sense arguing with her when she was in this kind of mood.
She picked up her purse from the floorboard and retrieved a comb, running it through
her hair to smooth it into place. She put on a coat of lipstick and patted her nose
with pressed powder.
After a few miles, the GPS indicated Nick had turned into the parking lot of Del Frisco’s.
I shrieked. “He’s taking her to a pricey steak house on their first date?” Their porterhouse
cost over fifty bucks. “He must be trying to impress her.” Damn! All he’d bought me today was a cup of coffee.
We made the block, stopping at an ATM so I could withdraw a couple of hundred dollars
to cover Alicia and Christina’s dinner. There went my manicure budget for the next
two months. But the least I could do was pay for their meals since they’d be spying
for me.
We returned to the restaurant. Christina parked around the side, where I’d be out
of sight of Nick’s truck. I handed Christina the stack of twenties and she and Alicia
headed inside, Alicia wobbling slightly on her heels.
I sat in the car with the windows rolled down a few inches, waiting. After a few minutes,
I received a brief text from Christina.
2 tables over.
Good. They’d been seated close to Nick and his date.
She texted me again. Ordered a bottle of cabernet.
I wasn’t sure if Christina was referring to herself and Alicia or to Nick and his
date. Alicia definitely didn’t need any more to drink.
My phone sat silent and still for an agonizing hour, but it might look suspicious
if Christina was texting me a play-by-play. What was happening inside? Was Nick meeting
the woman of his dreams? Laughing and bonding over red wine and red meat? Or were
my friends successfully interfering with his date?
Finally, I received another text from Christina. Mission accomplished.
I pulled up the map on my phone. According to the GPS app, Nick and his date had left
the parking lot and were on their way back to the woman’s apartment. No sign of Christina
and Alicia yet. I supposed I
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