Page 98 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“Who knows, maybe Timothy and I will hit it off.”
“Timothy or Tomothy?” Hardy asks with a smirk.
“Timothy,” I answer with a straight face. “As far as I’m concerned, Tomothy is dead to me.”
“Poor guy, didn’t even have a chance at disappointing you with his lack of knowledge about the female genitalia.”
“Oh no, he disappointed me day one, so no need to give him another chance.” I start on my last vase, sad that I’m almost done, but also glad because it’s getting late, and I don’t want to be doing this anymore, even though I’m having a good time with Hardy.
A great time actually.
I’m grateful Maple had to cancel. And not only because of my massive crush and how awkward it would have been if she’d been here, but I’ve really enjoyed spending time with him, just real time, with nothing between us.
“So, Timothy, huh?” he asks.
I shrug. “He was cute. He was fun to talk to. Could be an enjoyable date. Perhaps I’ll ask Maple for his number. Makes me nervous though—I haven’t been on a date in a really long time.”
“Same,” he says. “Not sure how it even works anymore.”
“I think there’s food involved.”
“And conversation.” He pauses and looks between us. “I guess like tonight.”
I bring my hand to my chest playfully. “Why, Hardy Hopper, are you saying we were on a date tonight?”
“I’d feel bad for you if we were. Not sure I was much of a gentleman.”
“Now, now,” I say. “You didn’t leave the table when the meat flew out of my mouth.”
“True.” He points at me. “Very true. Rather chivalrous, if you ask me. And when the food was dropped off at the door, I was the one who got it and brought it to the table.”
“Such a valiant act,” I say. “See, any woman’s dream date.”
He puffs his chest. “Damn right.”
Chuckling, I finish up the final vase and then take a seat as he uses up the last of the pom-poms. “So, are you feeling better than when you arrived?” I ask.
“I am,” he says. “Much better. Thank you, Everly.”
I shrug. “Just here to serve.”
When he’s done putting the last pom-pom on the string, he hands it over to me so I can tie it. “Do you have a close relationship with your parents?” he asks.
I can see where this is going so I tread lightly. “Pretty close,” I say.
He nods. “What’s that like?”
“Umm…” I stand and start collecting our trash from the night. “I guess kind of like having siblings, but older. Especially at this age. Sure, they offer their parental support, but they seem more like people I can go to when I need someone to talk to. Not so much parenting, more like friendship now.”
He pushes up from the able, picking up some garbage as well and bringing it over to the trash can. “I’ve never been close with my dad. I’ve tried and we’ve had some good moments, but I think those good moments have been filtered out by a lot of bad moments.”
Not wanting to overstep, but also wanting to help him shake this funk he’s in, I say, “Was today about your dad?”
He nods and then pushes his hand through his hair. “He’s a dick, Everly. I try to give him the benefit of the doubt, I really do, but then he goes and says shit that presses my buttons, things that he knows will get under my skin, and that’s exactly what he did today.”
“I’m sorry,” I say. “You deserve better than to be taunted by your father. That’s not fair.”
“It isn’t.” He leans on the table. “I wish it was different. I think about it all the time, how I might have turned out if maybe he’d been more nurturing and less competitive.”
