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CHAPTER 15

CARINA

The following weekend, I organized a girls’ day to celebrate Scarlett’s wedding update and support Blackcastle in their match against Arsenal. My personal challenge plan was in full swing, and the thrill of actually following through and checking items off the list was enough to overcome my initial resistance. For example, I hated cardio, but I felt so good after that it was worth it.

The same went for planning the girls’ day. I sucked at making decisions, so I usually went along with whatever Scarlett and Brooklyn wanted. But this time, I picked out the restaurant, organized transport to the stadium for the match, and led us to the Angry Boar for commiseration drinks after Blackcastle lost by one.

I wasn’t curing cancer, but it was a concrete step toward becoming a newer, better Carina. Plus, my savings had grown healthily since I started working for the Wilsons, and I was feeling good—so good I threw caution to the wind and ordered a Negroni at the pub. I’d always wanted to try one because it sounded so sophisticated.

That turned out to be a mistake.

I took one sip and almost spit it right back out. Jesus! Why was it so bitter? Did people actually enjoy this stuff?

“Water,” I croaked. “I need water.”

Mac gave me the world’s biggest side-eye. He shook his head and muttered something under his breath before he slammed a glass of water on the counter. I chugged the whole thing in one gulp while he left to take care of less disappointing customers.

“Let me guess. You ordered a Negroni.” A smooth voice drew my attention away from the lingering bitterness on my tongue and toward Samson. He came up beside me and nodded at the barely touched drink. “I’d recognize it anywhere. It’s an acquired taste, and Mac tends to go heavy on the pour. Makes it even more bitter.”

He laughed when I made a face and pushed the offending cocktail away with the tip of my finger. “I wish someone had told me that earlier. I’ve been deceived by all the Negroni propaganda.”

“The people around you let you down.”

“They really did.”

“In that case, I’m happy to be your resource for all things drink-related so you don’t get bamboozled again,” he said solemnly.

“It’s an important job. I can’t give it away to just anyone,” I said, my tone equally solemn.

Samson’s grin widened. He was extremely handsome, with short dark hair and a dazzling smile, but he was also the textbook definition of a playboy.

Maybe that was what I needed though. A little harmless flirting with a hot footballer would do me good and, hopefully, take my mind off a certain grumpy single dad.

I instinctively flicked my gaze around the room in case Noah was here, but I hadn’t seen him all night. Evie was at her friend’s house so I had the day off, but Noah wasn’t a big pub guy. His absence shouldn’t surprise me, especially since we hadn’t spoken since last week’s kitchen encounter save for the occasional “good morning” and “good night.” Maybe he was embarrassed I’d caught him stalking my Instagram, but he was the one who’d insinuated I had a thing for him first. I’d merely matched his energy.

“To be fair, you are wearing my jersey number,” Samson said, bringing my attention back to him. “I feel as though that gives me bonus points.”

I glanced down in surprise. I’d forgotten I was wearing his number. I’d ordered matching custom football shirts for myself, Brooklyn, and Scarlett as a pre-wedding gift. They were pink, Scarlett’s favorite color, and hers said Mrs. Donovan on the back. Brooklyn got DuBois, obviously, while I’d paired my last name with the first number that’d popped up. Well, second, since the first number was Noah’s #1, and I was definitely not using that. Samson’s #2 had been the next choice down.

“As talented as you are, I’m afraid I picked this jersey at random,” I said apologetically. “It doesn’t count toward your qualifications for this job.”

“Ouch. What a blow to the ego.” Samson clutched his chest. “In that case, at least let me buy you a drink. No bitterness. I promise.”

“Does that type of pickup line work for you?” I asked, amused.

“It wasn’t a pickup line. It’s the truth.” His eyes sparkled. “Maybe the universe was trying to tell you something when it put my jersey in front of you.”

I laughed at his shameless flirting. I had no desire to be another notch on his belt, but he was cute and fun. Besides, wasn’t that why I’d wandered off to the bar by myself? So I could get enough liquid courage to check off the love and relationships challenge from my list?

I could ask Samson out, easy. But first, I needed another drink.

“One drink,” I said. “Make it a good one.”

His grin widened. “I got you.”

He leaned over and whispered something to Mac. A minute later, the pub owner slammed another drink in front of me.

“Be careful. It doesn’t taste like it, but it’s quite strong,” Samson said as I took a sip. “What’s the verdict?”