Bachelor Swap - Lacey Black Page 0,55

she demands good-heartedly, a mischievous grin on her face.

“I think I’m falling in love with him.” I don’t mean for those words to come out of my mouth, but they just…pour from me like a faucet of truth.

Amalee gasps and claps her hands together. “Holy shit, are you serious? I’m so happy for you,” she coos, dipping another chip in the homemade salsa.

I take a drink of my cold strawberry margarita and set it down, just as our food is delivered. We wait until the waitress steps away before we resume our conversation. “We’ve been spending a lot of time together lately,” I start, cutting into my chicken enchilada and dousing it with sour cream and guacamole.

“Ohhhh,” she sings, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“Not like that,” I start, taking a bite of my food. “Well, a little bit like that.”

I share a few not-too-intimate details, boasting about the dates we’ve been on, most of which happen at either his place or mine. I’ve learned Matthew actually prefers eating in than out, which still shocks me a little, considering how many times we ate in fancy restaurants in the beginning. Maybe that was his way of trying to impress me.

“Do I get to meet him officially this Saturday?” she asks, referring to the upcoming gala. Amalee and Matthew have been to a few events at the same time but have never been introduced.

“Yes. He’s agreed to come with me. I’m a little nervous, if I’m being honest. My dad is going to be there too.”

“Oh, the boyfriend and the father meeting for the first time? I’m sure it’ll be fine. Your dad gets along with everyone. Well, unless it’s business related,” she adds with a laugh.

I nod slowly, taking another bite of my food. “I’m sure you’re right, but still. I just really want them to get along, you know?”

“I do.”

We chat about the gala details until we’ve finished our meal and the plates are collected. Amalee drains her margarita. “So… I met a guy last week,” she says, nonchalantly, but I already know this is somewhat of a big deal. My best friend has always been a fan of casual sex. With her high demand profession, Amalee doesn’t bother with relationships. Not that she hasn’t tried. She has, but the one time she put herself and heart on the line, she was burned badly. Now, she doesn’t even try to find someone to spend the rest of her life with. She just finds someone to help warm her bed every now and again, or help scratch an itch, as she puts it so elegantly.

“Really? Tell me more,” I encourage, giving her my full attention.

Amalee raises her shoulders indifferently and reaches for her margarita, which is empty. “He’s an ADA for the city,” she says, averting her eyes. “I’ve heard of him before, but never met him in a courtroom, since I don’t do criminal law. Well, he came in to deliver something to the office next to mine and we shared an elevator.”

I’m already smiling. “An elevator ride is like ten seconds, Am.”

Now it’s her turn to grin. “I know. He invited me to grab a cup of coffee right then and there, so we went back down to the lobby and ordered Starbucks. We haven’t been able to meet up again, but…we text. A lot.”

Reaching over, I squeeze her hand. “I’m happy for you.”

She gives me a casual shoulder lift, but I can see the excitement in her eyes. “Thanks. It’s way too early to get too enthusiastic though.”

“Maybe, maybe not. You should invite him to the gala on Saturday.”

She snorts. “I don’t think I’m ready for that yet. Maybe dinner first, then we could tackle a big public charity event.”

“Well, I know someone who can get you a last-minute extra ticket,” I reply, finishing off my drink.

The check arrives, but I’m not quick enough to get it this time. Amalee slides her credit card inside the black folder. Once the waiter returns, she signs her name on the slip of paper and walks with me out of our favorite Mexican restaurant.

“So, give me a call if you need anything before the gala. I’m not working Saturday and could help with anything that doesn’t involve creativity.”

I giggle at my friend. She’s always been one who needs step-by-step directions. If you tell her to take a stack of flowers and form an arrangement, she breaks out into hives. “Not working?” I ask, shocked.

Amalee rolls her eyes. “Well, let me clarify. I’m