Page 4 of The Plus One

“Who said anything about random?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Thank you for reminding me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, Sierra. What I’m not about to do is spend an entire week watching everybody watch me.”

“Nobody is going to—”

I cut her off before she could finish. “Yes, they are.”

She went quiet. Because she knew I was right. People loved mess. Nobody had to say anything. I already knew how it would go. Every time Markel and Tiana walked into a room, somebody would glance at me to see if I’d noticed.

Fuck that. If people wanted something to look at, I’d give them something better. “I have four days,” I said.

“To do what?”

“Find a plus one.”

“Kema, please don’t turn my wedding into a revenge plot.”

I stood and grabbed my purse. “It’s not revenge.”

She stared at me. “It sounds exactly like revenge.”

“No.” I slipped my phone inside my bag. “Revenge would be me fucking the best man.”

Sierra’s mouth dropped open. I grinned. “Relax. I already did that can’t do it again.”

“KEMA!”

I chuckled as I headed toward the door. Maybe that joke was in poor taste. But at least I was laughing now. Four days. That was plenty of time. I just needed to find one attractive, emotionally stable man willing to spend a week drinking margaritas on a beach in Mexico. How hard could that possibly be?

Later that night..

After I left Sierra and Stephen's house I was too pissed to go home so I went to the next best place. My favorite bar, Ace’s. I loved this bar. Ace was like that friend you hung out with in passing but didn’t really know. We’d been around each other plenty of times over the years because of Kel, but I couldn’t tell you shit about that man outside of the obvious.

His name was Ace Davis. He owned my favorite bar. And he was fine as fuck. Oh and he and my ex had been best friends since they were kids. That was about it.

I’d spent so many nights at Ace’s getting drunk after my breakup with Kel that the bartenders knew my usual and put my order in without asking. A round of lemon drop flights and a ten-piece hot lemon pepper wet, all flats, extra crispy, with fries. And one thing about Ace’s? The food and drinks never missed.

I popped another wing into my mouth before reaching for the second lemon drop in front of me. Four days. I had four damn days to find a nigga willing to get on a plane with me and spend seven days in Cancún.

The problem wasn’t finding somebody willing to go. I was a beautiful woman offering a free stay at an all-inclusive resort in Mexico. I could probably stand outside with a cardboard sign and have applications by midnight.

The problem was finding somebody I actually wanted there. I didn’t want some random nigga. Seven days was a long time to be stuck with somebody you didn’t really like or know. I needed somebody single, fine, and funny enough that I wouldn’t get tired of talking to him by day three.

He also had to be independent enough that he wouldn’t come home thinking we were going to be anything because we shared a hotel room. And, if I was being completely honest, the dick needed to be good enough that I wouldn’t mind spending seven days getting my guts rearranged.

I might as well enjoy the vacation. I picked up another lemon drop and tossed it back. “Okay,” I mumbled to myself. “Who we got?”

I unlocked my phone. My contacts were empty. It wasn't because I didn’t know any men. I knew plenty. I just didn’t know many I wanted to voluntarily take out of the country. I scrolled until I landed on the first possibility.

There was Undre. He was fine, single, had a good job, nice body, and the dick was decent. It wasn't go to Mexico with him decent but it was okay. Dre had one major problem. That nigga talked too fucking much. He would have everybody at Sierra’s wedding knowing too damn much.

I thought about Chris. But I quickly changed my mind. The sex was good, but Chris had called me his future wife after our third date. And that was why we hadn’t even made it to a fourth. The nigga was insane.