Page 65 of Pity Pact
He stares at me with an intensity that makes me shiver. “Somebody has to keep an eye out for the little guy.”
After eating the rest of my cookie, I tell him, “I think you need to retire last night’s Fielden. This guy,” I run my pointer finger up and down in front of him, “is much more likable.”
Taking a step closer to me, he asks, “Would you be interestedin having a one-on-one date with me this week? I understand if you say no, but I promise you’ve seen the last of the other guy.”
He looks at me so earnestly that I cave. “Okay.”
“Thank you, Paige. You won’t be sorry.”
My right eyebrow shoots up like a question mark. “Don’t make promises unless you can keep them,” I warn.
“I’m not …”
Before he can finish his sentence, Trina calls out, “Who’s ready for the next game?” Her question is met by a roomful of cheers. Apparently, I’m not the only one who could use an extra five grand.
Fielden and I hurry to join our teams as Trina announces, “Once you’re in line, you’ll need to turn and face the other team.” Then she walks over to Brittany and hands her an orange. She walks down the other line and gives one to Tim. “You’re going to put the orange under your neck and then walk with it to the man or woman in front of you. You’ll continue zig zag pattern until the fruit makes it all the way down the line.
“I don’t understand,” one of the men calls out. “We’ll be playing with the opposition?”
“I’m hoping the game is secondary to finding out who you have chemistry with,” Trina tells us. Once the orange is back with the man or woman who started with it, the game is over.”
Dread fills every fiber of my being. I’m horrible at this game. So much so, I’m sure I’m going to lose this round for my team.
Trina continues to explain the rules. “If you drop the orange, do not pick it up. Someone will come in and put a new one under your chin. Now, who’s ready for some fun?!”
Everybody—except me—shouts with excitement. Once Trina calls the start of the game, Tim puts his orange under his neck and shuffles in my direction. His posture is not unlike the hunchback of Notre Dame as he tries to keep his fruit in place.
When he reaches me, he jokes, “Wanna neck?”
“No thanks, Quasimodo.” I’mnotjoking, but I know what Imust do. I raise my chin to better facilitate Tim finagling his orange into my possession. As he bends low, I reach up on my tiptoes … and … the orange falls. Unfortunately, it doesn’t hit the ground like you might expect. Instead, it drops right down my neckline, through my pant leg, and stops at the insole of my bear paw.
Tim calls out, “Another orange!” A crewmember runs one over, and once it’s under Tim’s chin, he tries again. And … boom! It joins the first one.
Tim laughs. “You’re really bad at this game, aren’t you?”
“Shut up,” I snarl. I’m liable to be housing a whole bushel of citrus in my jammies by the time this game is over.
Tim successfully passes the third orange to me, and now I’m off to neck with some guy named Carl. Luckily Carl is a lot shorter than Tim and I’m able to make the transfer with greater ease—only one orange added to my collection this time instead of two.
Once my first turn is over, I’m able to step back and watch everyone else. Oddly, they all seem to be enjoying themselves. Me, not so much. The teams stay pretty neck and neck—pun intended—so I know I’m going to be under the gun when the orange comes back to me.
Carl passes to me this time—only two more oranges in my jammies— and I hobble out of line to make my way to Tim and my original location. It’s not as easy as you might expect with my leg full of fruit. By the time I reach him, he’s laughing so hard, I tell him, “Take all the time you want. Your team can’t win until you have this orange.”
That gets his attention, and he comes at me with intent. While he’s trying to take possession, he whispers in my ear, “I’m really a much better necker than this …” My skin erupts in goosebumps, and I have to force myself to remember that nothing can happen between me and Tim. At least not while he’s trying to stick it to Eva.
I lose another three oranges trying to make the transfer before Trina shouts, “Brittany has the orange for her team! We have a winner!” Thank goodness this is over.
But instead of accepting defeat, Tim croons, “Come on, Paige, you can do it. Let me have your orange.” He has no right to flirt with me, so instead of taking his direction, I pick up the orange with my hand and peel it in front of him.
“Sorry,friend.” Then I turn and celebrate my team’s second win of the night.
The rest of the mixer moves along smoothly. I meet several other men, some of whom are pretty nice, but none of whom instill thoughts of romance. That’s when I realize that if things don’t pan out with Fielden, I probably won’t make a love match. I want to cry.
How can it be that the only men I find attractive are the lawyer who lives far away and the country club owner? Too bad the country club owner is just here to waste time.
I don’t feel like calling Missy when I get home. Even though my pajamas were a huge hit, she never brought me a change of clothes and I’m mad. I guess now that she’s part of a couple she doesn’t have time for her best friend.Yes, I’m feeling sorry for myself.
I removed all the oranges from my onesie before leaving the country club, so as soon as I climb the stairs to my room, I crawl straight into bed. Once I’m snuggled under the duvet, I pick up my phone to see if my bestie has a good excuse for blowing me off. It turns out she does.