Falling for the P.I. (Entangled Bliss) (Still Harbor) - Victoria James Page 0,1

at recess today,” Alex said. Cassandra was her adopted daughter.

“And Beth told me they all sat together at lunchtime,” Cara said, reminding Kate of what her daughter, Beth, had said at dinner. “So, no need to keep worrying. Finish off your beer, walk over to that bar, and see if someone sticks.”

“I’m not Velcro.”

Alex inhaled sharply, gripping the edges of the table until her knuckles turned white. Her eyes were wide and a little crazed looking as she stared at the front door. “Oh, forget it. Our search is over. He’s just walked in. That is the man,” Alex said.

Kate didn’t bother turning around. She’d heard that many times before.

“I’m serious. He’s walking to the bar. Black hair. Dark jeans. Navy Henley that is clinging to delectable muscle. About as beautiful as a man can get.”

“Oh, she’s right,” Cara said, turning to look at her. “You need to do all of us a favor, so get off your butt and go to the bar. Right now.”

Kate frowned at both of them, curiosity getting the better of her, and she slowly turned in the direction of the bar. “Tall, dark, and handsome” didn’t cut it. He was leaning against the bar, his eyes on the front door. He was obviously waiting for someone, his dark blue eyes unwavering. He was beautiful in a chiselled, masculine way that made her stomach drop, her pulse race.

“Stop drooling and start walking.”

Kate ripped her gaze from the man and turned to focus on her sisters. She had to clear her throat. “I will give you that the man is” —she quickly searched for a word that wouldn’t prompt them to force her to approach him.— “fascinating.”

“Fascinating? He’s not an art exhibit, although he could be,” Alex said under her breath.

“I agree. I say we refer to the nameless wonder as Mr. Art Exhibit,” Cara said.

Alex nodded in agreement.

Kate shook her head. “I’m not going to refer to him as anything, and I’m not going up to him. What would I say?”

Alex took a sip of her wine and mumbled into her glass. “Try this. Hi, my name’s Kate.”

“That’s stupid. And then what? I’m not going home with a stranger,” she said, looking away from Mr. Art Exhibit.

“Oh, I’ve got it,” Cara whispered, clutching her arm. “Ask him to make a donation to our fundraiser. Just say ‘would you like to be my date for the Still Harbor Home for Women and Children’s gala because I have no life and even less of a love life?’”

Kate yanked her arm free from Cara’s grasp. “I am absolutely not asking a stranger to be my date to the most important event ever.”

“Then ask him for money. We really need a major sponsor,” Alex whispered, looking over her shoulder at him again. “He must have money. Only a man with money can have a walk like that.”

“You win. Your conversation has actually driven me to walk up to a stranger in a bar.” Kate shot them what she hoped was a scathing look and then downed the rest of her drink. They were right, she had no life. She worked, she took care of her daughter, she slept. That was it and that had been it for years. None of them had had the luxury of doing the normal things young people did. There had never been room to enjoy life’s…finer pleasures.

She’d follow their advice, except for the part about asking him to the gala. She’d worry about their lack of funding tomorrow. She looked from Mr. Art Exhibit back to her sisters who were smiling. She took a deep breath and stood. “Okay. I’m going. I can do this. I can approach a random—”

“Mr. Art Exhibit is not random. Trust me,” Cara said.

Kate nodded, squared her shoulders, and made her way through the crowded pub. The live band was playing a raucous melody, the crowd on the dance floor cheering. Kate’s stomach tightened as she approached the bar. She quickly surveyed her seating options. She couldn’t sit right beside him. Maybe one bar stool over. Her heart drummed painfully and she cursed herself for being such a wimp. She could stand in front of a room of rowdy teens and she couldn’t walk up to a man at a pub? C’mon, Kate.

Kate gingerly sat on the round bar stool, careful not to overshoot and wind up on her butt, now that the effects from her second beer were beginning to swirl through her. She stared straight ahead, pretending