Page 110 of Just for the Plot

She smirks. “To the unknown.”

“Thank you so much.”

“Of course,” I say, with a smile.

“Sorry to bother.” The woman, who came over looking for a picture, walks right up to Adalade and gushes.

“I think that’s about everyone.” Bower glances around the rooftop, taking in the small crowd. “I don’t think one person missed out on taking a picture with you.”

“Once one person figured it out, they all fell in line after that.”

“I would have thought people who hang out with Adalade wouldn’t have wanted a picture with you. No offense, but they just don’t seem like the sporty type.”

“It’s not my baseball talent that brought them in.”

“Oh yeah?” she scoffs. “What is it, then?”

“My stunningly good looks.”

Bower rolls her eyes. “Full of yourself much?”

“I thought you liked hanging around douchebags,” I counter, surprising her.

“Oh, you’re going there, huh?”

I finish off my wine just as a waiter brings us both our fourth glass of the night. We went through our second when a man named Ira was telling us all about investing in bonds. And our third was consumed while speaking with a woman about her late husband, Ronald, who she’s grateful died before her, because now she gets to live her life, attending rooftop dinner parties.

Got to love a bitter widow.

“Just unsure what you see in him.”

“You set me up with him.”

“Mistakes were made. I can admit it.”

She smiles over the rim of her wineglass. “Big of you.” She shifts a little closer, close enough that I can rest my hand on her hip, and I do just that as I stare down at her. “And if you think I can do better, what does that entail?”

“First of all, not a guy named Cougar. His name alone doesn’t pass the orgasm test.”

Her mouth falls open before saying, “Oh my God, I forgot I told you about the orgasm test.”

I slowly nod. “Yeah, you did. And there’s no way you can moan his name and it will sound appealing. Cougar is not the kind of name that rolls off the tongue in a sexy way.”

“Not so much. Okay, what else?”

Taking the bait, I say, “You need someone who can take care of you, not because you need it, but because you deserve it.” Her expression softens. “You need someone who’s infatuated and not asking you out to morning dates because that’s what’s easiest for them. You need someone who’ll put in the effort, like the things you like, and be there for you when you need it the most and the least.”

“To name a few things.” She shakes her head. “Men like that don’t exist.” I’m about to tell her the fuck they don’t when her eyes snap to mine and she says, “What about you? What’s on your list of the perfect match for you?”

“Why would I tell you that?”

“Uh, so I could help you find someone.”

“I don’t need help. I already know what I want.”

She rolls her eyes. “Are you talking about your crush? Because it’s never going to happen unless you make a move.”

“Well aware.”