Wow. This guy thinks he’s the shit.
The other three, well—they trail along after him like afterthoughts. The ‘yes’ men, donning the official uniform of “Mr. One-Night Stand”: tight shirts, bleached teeth, and matching shit-eating grins. I bet two out of three of them have rib tats.
Except the straggler.
I eyeball the guy shuffling behind them, my green gaze fixating on him, latching on with fascination. Not only is he deliberately lagging behind, but he looks damn uncomfortable. This one… he’s a complete paradox.
Dark, tousled hair, The Straggler effortlessly dons a gingham plaid shirt, neatly tucked under a preppy blue sweater vest and a belted pair of navy khakis. His only concession to casuaclass="underline" rolled shirtsleeves pushed to his elbows.
All he’s missing is a bow tie.
Honestly? The poor guy looks like he’s just arrived from the office—a tax attorney’s office, I speculate. Or a cubicle at a technology company. Yeah, definitely computer programming.
Or insurance sales.
Wait, no. The Internal Revenue Service.
I bet he’s an auditor; that sounds boring.
I’m not trying to be mean, but the guy is wearing khakis and a sweater vest in a bar on a weekend, for heaven’s sake. He’s practically begging me to judge him.
To the upwardly mobile, wearing a plaid shirt to a bar during the workweek would be just fine, but not on a Saturday. Unless, of course, he happens to be from the Deep South—maybe Georgia or South Carolina? Don’t they wear bow ties down there? Yeah. They do.
I study him further and after some serious contemplation, conceding that The Straggler pulls off the stuffy look just fine.
And did I mention his glasses?
Kind of adorkable.
He pushes those tortoise-shell rims up the bridge of a straight nose on an average face, crosses his average arms across an average chest, and I watch as he tips his head towards the ceiling and murmurs to himself.
Adam’s apple bobbing, I read his lips: I’m in hell.
Nope. I’m not eyeballing the guy because I’m interested; I’m eyeballing him because he’s so obviously miserable.
Is it sick that I’m enjoying his discomfort? Ugh, what is wrong with me?
Smirking, I bring the bowl of my wine glass to my lips, concealing the smile growing there as the guys approach, confidently, like a pack of vultures. Swallowing a chuckle, I gulp my wine.
“Hey, I think I recognize that guy,” Tabitha says, her eyes squinting at The Straggler, then snapping her fingers. “Ha! Yes, I do. I’m pretty sure that’s Collin’s friend Dex. Dexter, I think.”
Dexter.
I turn the name around inside my head, testing it out.
How nerdy.
But it fits.
And I like it…
Interesting fact: I didn’t have acknowledgements for my first two books. Actually, I didn’t have dedications either… Something else I didn’t have? A clue.
Surprise, surprise.
Call me naïve, but when I started writing I had no idea what I was doing. I wrote for fun. I wrote what I wanted to read—and completely forgot to thank the friends in my life who helped guide me, and give me support I needed to make the novels a reality. Looking back on it, man do I feel crappy about it. (By the way, to this day, my Mom still brings it up.)
I’ve grown as a writer, and a human being, as so many new people have come into my life since my first novel published. So I want to start by thanking the people who have been with me along the journey.
Deep breath. Exhale.
Here we go…
I’m going to start with my Beta readers, who are my usual suspects: Kirstin Huie and Abby Slaven. Two incredible friends who have been with me from the beginning. Not only are they unbelievably supportive, they’re also incredible young woman who inspire me daily. Truly outstanding individuals.
Nikki Kroll. I’m so glad you accepted my invitation to Beta. Your notes were spot on, perceptive, and useful. I look forward to the day I get to meet your beautiful face in person!
Tami Estes. I can’t sum up how fantastic I think you are, and am grateful for all the suggestions you gave me on this book. Even though a “little bird” told me you were nervous to be honest with me, I am so thankful you were.
M.E. Carter: friend, writer partner, and pain in my ass. Not a day goes by that we don’t bicker, banter—and give each other valuable insight. Sometimes you make me laugh, sometimes you make my face turn bright red (interpret that however you want), and sometimes… I wonder how the hell I ever existed without you. Someone was watching out for us the day our destinies collided.
Speaking of Destines Colliding… Shirl Rickman. Sweet. Funny. Enthusiastic. You’re such a fantastic human being. Meeting you in person was one of the most exciting days I’ve experienced as a writer, and I want to forever be your road tripping partner. Road tripping, yes. Hiking, no. I (heart) you so much.
Laurie Darter and Dawn Chiletz—without your input, this book wouldn’t have a plot. Honestly. I truly needed that brainstorming session at the Cheesecake Factory to pull me out of my slump. Not to mention, you’re both so funny, caring, and… awesome.
Murphy Hopkins… what can I say about you? You are one kick-ass young woman. Creative. Witty. Passionate. Remarkable… these words feel a paltry description to sum up your character. Good days or bad, there is nothing you cannot do. Believe me when I say this: you inspire. We admire you.
Oh. And thanks for editing this book despite the fact that I forgot to book you.
Julie Titus (JT Formatting). Ugh, Julie, whom I’ve been dying to have format my books, and who has been incredibly patient with my pushing back dates—not once, but twice. Patience is your virtue, and I thank you. May we have a long, happy relationship…
To my dear friend Jen Cashin, who delights me with every selfie. Nothing makes me laugh more than pictures of you reading my books. It truly flatters me that you are so proud and supportive of me. I love you so much.
Vanessa Taylir for putting me in your library. That was the coolest day, and one of my proudest moments. You probably don’t realize that, but… I can’t tell you how much I appreciated your sending me the photo of my books in my hometown library. Best. Day. Ever. Love you.
Brenda. Katy. Every single day I think of you.
My sister Maddie, who needs a love story of her own. Now, if only she’d start listening to my advice…
Last, but not least – Christine Kuttnauer. You are the rock to my paper. One of the first people I speak to in the morning, and the last person I message at night—when we should both be sleeping, but are reading. Intelligent, funny. I love everything about you, including your flaws. You’re you. And this book wouldn’t have been written without you.
To my readers…. There is nothing—nothing—that fills me with more joy that seeing your positive responses to something I’ve written; I can’t even describe what it feels like. Or what it feels like when someone simply writes on my Facebook wall. The level of happy is immeasurable.
I cannot wait to grow old with you all. Wait. That came out wrong… but you know what I meant.
I love you all.
For more information about Sara Ney and her books, visit:
Goodreads
Website
Other Titles by Sara
The Kiss and Make Up Series
Kissing in Cars
He Kissed Me First
A Kiss Like This
#ThreeLittleLies Series
Things Liars Say
Things Liars Hide