The Trouble With Scarecrows (The Trouble With Men Book 2) by Dorlana Vann Page B

then out popped a guy from nowhere claiming to be her date. He supposed he would apologize and walk away. If a woman was clearly on a date, he wouldn’t approach her at all. But if she really got him going, he might attempt eye contact from afar, and this often gained a discreet number when the girl went to the ladies’ room.
    He turned and faced the mirror behind the bar and drank his beer down. He signaled to the bartender for another one. “Start a tab, would ya?”
    After he’d taken a couple of drinks of his beer, he watched through the mirror as a guy approached the bar, heading straight to Brenda. He appeared to be the sort of guy she’d probably go for. He was tall, good-looking, broad shoulders, and no beer gut. Neal didn’t turn around, but he sure wanted to.
    “Can I buy you a drink?” the guy asked.
    “I have one,” she said.
    “I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room.”
    “It’s not a very big place,” she replied.
    “Okay,” he said. “My name is George.”
    “That’s nice.”
    After a few minutes of silence the guy asked, “Can I sit down?”
    “It’s a free country.”
    “So what do you do?”
    “I’m an attorney.”
    “That’s cool,” George said. “Do you work around here?”
    “Ouch!” Neal said as Brenda elbowed him in the side. “What?” And then he whispered, “Scarecrow?”
    “Yes,” Brenda said, a hint of desperation in her voice.
    “Excuse me?” George said.
    Neal stood up, not understanding why. He thought the fellow was doing all right. Even staying in there when Brenda played hard to get. “Move it on along,” Neal said.
    George looked at Neal and then at Brenda, apparently waiting for her to protest Neal’s demand.
    “She’s with me,” Neal added after the guy didn’t budge.
    “Sorry, man, I didn’t see you.”
    “No problem.”
    George nodded at Brenda and then went back to wherever he’d strolled over from.
    “What took you so long?” Brenda asked, swiveling around on the barstool to face him.
    “He seemed cool to me.”
    “Really? Neither one of y’all can take a hint.”
    “Those were hints? I thought it had just been ages since you’d talked to a man. And what the hell was the matter with him? He’s a decent looking guy.”
    “You like him so much, you go buy him a drink.”
    “Funny.”
    “I’m paying you to be a scarecrow, not a matchmaker. Stick to your job.”
    “Well, maybe we should come up with a signal or something.”
    “That’s . . . actually a good idea. Okay fine. I’ll say ‘red flag.’”
    Neal thought it was stupid. “Okay.” He turned back around, facing the mirror again. After a few minutes, the bar began to thin out and he glanced at his phone for the time: ten-thirty. “Do you come here often?”
    She slowly turned her chair to face the mirror too. “Are you trying to pick me up?”
    “I just mean, this place is a bit of a snooze-ville. Don’t you think?”
    “I suppose. This is my first time here.”
    “Huh. If you’re wanting to meet men, you should go where they are.”
    “I can imagine where you’d go to pick up women. Some smoky strip club, no doubt.”
    “There’s a lot of men there.”
    “Maybe this was a bad idea.”
    “What do you mean? I thought I did a good job a while ago.”
    “You did. Maybe it’s too soon. You know.”
    Neal turned his head toward her. “Nonsense. The best way to get over someone is to get someone new.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “You sound like you’ve had experience.”
    “This isn’t about me.”
    “You know, maybe it should be. You seem to know everything about me. I don’t know anything about you. Do you have a girlfriend?”
    “No.”
    “Have you ever been married?”
    “No.”
    “Engaged?’
    “No.”
    “Are you gay?”
    “No!”
    Brenda turned her chair so she faced him. Her thighs brushed his for a second as she crossed her legs slowly, elegantly. “So what’s your story?”
    “I thought we weren’t supposed to be