Free All In by Marta Brown Page B

now,
and I don’t have enough cash to pay the bill.”
    “Who’s the lucky lady?” he says,
wagging his eyebrows up and down exaggeratedly.
    “Ashley Whitmore.”
    He drops his feet from the table with
a loud thud. “Whoa.”
    “Exactly.” I tap my foot frantically
on the concrete floor. “So?”
    “Oh yeah, sure, bud.” He pulls out his
wallet and hands me twenty five bucks. “It’s all I got on me,
man.”
    “No, it’s great. Thank you so much,
I’ll pay you back tomorrow,” I say before running out of the
garage. It won’t be a huge tip, but at least it’ll cover the
bill.
    I jog up the stone path
back toward the clubhouse, cash in hand, and come to an abrupt stop
when I see Ashley standing outside clutching her purse and flowers
as she scans the parking lot. Why is she outside? I haven’t been
gone that long,
have I?
    I straighten my tie and quickly walk
the rest of the way up the path, hoping I’m not
sweating.
    “Is everything okay?” I
ask.
    “Everything is fine.” She smiles.
“Ready?” she asks, wrapping what looks like a thin black scarf
around her bare arms.
    “Okay. Sure. Let me just run in and
take care of the bill real quick,” I say and head for the front
door.
    She reaches out and grabs my hand as I
walk by stopping me. “I took care of it already.”
    “But—” I start to say before she cuts
me off.
    “Lane, I asked you out, remember?” she
says softly. She looks down at our entwined hands and then back up
into my eyes. “It’s my treat.”
    She took care of it? Her
treat?
    I’m pretty confident she
must know, or at least suspect I couldn’t cover the bill and that’s
why she paid for dinner and not because she technically asked me
out.
    “Uh, thanks,” I say, letting go of her
hand and feeling like a complete fool standing there with a wad of
crumpled bills in one hand and my pride figuratively crumpled on
the ground.
    Great. First. Date.
     

Chapter 10
    Ashley
     
    I glance at the clock on my car’s
dashboard after pulling out of the club’s parking lot and head down
the coast towards home. I switch off the music, too flustered to
concentrate. I can’t believe it’s only eight and our date is
already over, and worse, I can’t stop over analyzing what went
wrong. Did I do something? Say something? I’m at a loss.
    I’d thought it was going so well,
except for the small hiccup when we first arrived. But I’m pretty
sure Lane didn’t realize I overheard Mr. Billings insinuate he was
over dressed for washing dishes. Thankfully.
    Otherwise, the evening had
been great. Our table had a beautiful view of the boats in the
harbor, dotting the dark water with the warm light of their berths.
But I hardly paid them any attention, too caught up in staring at
Lane. He was wearing a gorgeous tie that brought out the gray in
his crystal blue eyes and his hair was perfectly messy in that
stylish I just fell out of bed kind of way. And our conversation had been
effortless. I found myself laughing easier and more often than
usual, and Lane seemed to be having as nice a time.
    As first dates go, it was wonderful.
Or at least I’d thought so, until the end.
    I’m not sure what transpired in such a
short amount of time, but when I met Lane outside after taking care
of the bill, since I’d technically asked him out, everything that
had felt so easy all night felt awkward and forced. Lane eventually
thanked me for dinner before walking me to my car and giving me a
handshake goodnight. A handshake? I didn’t know what else to do
than to leave, quickly.
    “Great first date, Ash,” I say out
loud, chastising myself for blowing it, but still not sure what had
exactly gone so wrong. Maybe I’ll never know. I doubt Lane will be
calling me again.
    A car horn breaks me from my thoughts.
I glance in my rear-view mirror and see Lane flashing his
headlights at me. Did I forget something? Like a pat on the
back?
    I pull into the beach’s parking lot
and unroll my window as Lane pulls