The Rivals - Dylan Allen Page 0,15

this, I have to move home. But, have you seen how round my ass has gotten?” I lift and point to my silver sequined covered backside and wink. “It’s amazing, right?” I grin at her.

“It’s got that Beyoncé circa 2014 magic,” she says with authority and we clink our glasses together.

“And you have not hit rock bottom, TB,” she says reproachfully.

“No, I have. Really,” I assure her with a falsely proud smile. “But, I have a plan. And being back home will light a fire under me. Not to mention taking this trip has brought me perilously close to poverty. It’s time to give up my apartment, go home, and regroup.”

She pats my arm consolingly. “Well, if all of that fails, you could turn your new hobby into a business,” she says.

“Yes!” I clap my hands and hoot with laugher. “Like I could be some sort of plus one for hire.”

“You’ve had enough practice in the last few months,” she ribs me.

“I know,” I crow with delight. “Weddings are such a score. I mean, I have classy-as-fuck friends, so the venues are always marvelous, and I get it at the block rate.” I laugh out loud and stop when I see Cass isn’t laughing with me.

“What?” I ask and blush.

“I’m glad you’re letting that crazy dark hair go. Your hair is the prettiest natural blonde I’ve ever seen. I’ve missed the fits of jealousy I used to have every time you wore it down.”

“I do look good, don’t I? A life of leisure is apparently the real fountain of youth.” I wink. “But tell me why you’re looking at me like my mom did the first time I managed to bait a hook myself,” I tease, but I’m blushing at the unfiltered pride in her eyes.

“It’s just that I’m glad that you’re doing what makes you happy. It is slightly reckless to blow through your savings this way. But, I also know that you’re a brilliant, passionate attorney, and the minute you’re ready, you’ll have a score of job offers. I’m thrilled you’re being a sexy, lazy, beach bum for once in your life. You’ve earned it, ” Cass says with the most sincerely delighted smile on her face. I smile back at her with equal delight.

This is why she’s my best friend. She loves me as much as I love her. And when I’m happy, she is too. My heart swells with gratitude that I have her in my life.

I look back at my dream man. He’s sitting with his arms crossed watching the dancing people like he’d rather be anywhere else. His heavy, square chin has a cleft.

I want to stick my tongue in it. I regain my resolve.

“I’m about to add slutty to that sexy and lazy,” I say and give her a bawdy wink. Then, I stand up again before I lose my nerve. I’m about to turn and walk his way when I remember something and lean down to talk to Cass.

“The guy behind the bar—his name tag said Luca—he’s a dead ringer for Jude Law, and I saw him checking out your ass when we walked through earlier,” I say.

She leaps out of her seat. “I can’t believe you saw him and didn’t tell me.” She scowls and starts to gather her phone and the lipstick and gum that spilled out of her tiny gold clutch.

“How was I to know what you were in the mood for? And if I told you every time a guy checked you out, we’d be here all night.”

“You sweet talker.” She swats my arm and presses a quick kiss to my cheek. “Be safe, have fun. And remind me to stick an extra-long pin in my Nigel voodoo doll when we get home.”

“I love you,” I say through a giggle.

She really has a Nigel voodoo doll at home. It’s a pathetic little stick figure made of popsicle sticks. All of its limbs are broken.

“How could you not?” She wiggles her fingers goodbye and disappears into the crowd. I run my fingers through my heavy hair. Thank you for low humidity and great hair products. There’s not a hint of frizz in sight, and there hasn’t been since I got here. I take all of this as an omen. Beautiful setting, great company, best hair day of my life—the stars have aligned. Of course, the man of my sexual dreams would be here, too.

With that thought, I take a deep breath and turn to face my future conquest.

I hope