Complicated Girl (Baker Street Romance #2)(9)
Author: Mimi Strong

A few ladies make ooooh sounds and I hear someone snicker, “Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much.”

I pull my hand down from my face and mouth an apology to Drew. I’m sorry.

He locks me in his gaze, and I can’t pull away from his dazzling brown eyes. “You were here first,” he says, directly to me. “I can find another group. Just say the word, Meenie, and I’ll back off.” He looks around at the others, meeting their eyes and charming them one by one with his undeniable, palpable, inescapable, unstoppable, overwhelming, so-real-you-can-taste-it, charisma.

I can feel the energy shifting over to take his side. Now I’m the mean one, mean ol’ Meenie, driving away the sweet young man with the GQ cologne and the GQ suit and the GQ looks.

“I want nothing more than what’s best for the group,” Drew says.

He bats his thick, dreamy eyelashes.

All the ladies whip off their panties and throw them at him. Feather uncrosses her legs and gets double-pregnant just by looking at him.

I know! I know! I’m out of control!

There’s no such thing as double-pregnant!

I push my chair back and stand up. “I brought f**king TEA CAKES!”

A hush falls over the group.

Now that I’m standing, my full shirt is visible. I can feel everyone reading it. I want to tell them I know, I know. I’m out of control.

Feather smiles sweetly. “Tea cakes? Are you suggesting we take a short break?”

“No! Keep going. I just mean…” I trail off when Drew looks up at me with his big brown eyes, like he’s begging me to let him stay.

“Your call,” he says, looking all vulnerable and puppy-eyed.

He’s wearing an orange tie with splotchy flowers. It’s the ugliest tie I’ve ever seen. I want to grab him by the tie and strangle him. But I also want to hold his face in my hands and nibble his eyebrows.

“You should stay,” I tell him. “And I’ll stay.” I sit back down in my chair with a hard plopping sound and a jolt that goes up my spine. “We’ll both stay, and we’ll work on all our problems.”

“Good,” he says.

“Good.”

We both turn and look at Feather. She’s holding her fingers to her mouth, like she might throw up. Either she’s not past the morning sickness phase, or Drew and I are about to make her vomit. This isn’t good.

She puts her hand down slowly and rests it on her knee.

“Good,” she says. “Drew, why don’t you go ahead and share next, while Meenie composes her thoughts.”

He rolls his shoulders back, suddenly cocky. All of his humility is instantly gone, and we’re back on his talk show. Now what is he going to say?

“I called up the lady who had my balls,” Drew says, looking self-satisfied. “I got those balls back, and I tucked them back onto myself, and that’s why I’m here.” He gives me a fiendish look. “All thanks to Meenie’s suggestion.”

The group turns to look at me. I can feel their support shifting even further toward Drew, and against me. Even though I spent the entire day making fancy tea cakes, for them. The nerve.

Abbie leans in and whispers, “What does he mean?”

Her whisper is loud enough for the whole group to hear.

Drew doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Last week, Meenie tried to drive me away from the group. She said I have no balls. I don’t think she meant to, but she seems to be a… complicated girl.”

I raise my hand. “That means bitch, everyone. Drew’s insulting me. I vote we give him a time out.”

This stirs up some noise, and people start to argue. We don’t usually do time outs, but it has happened.

Feather gets up from her chair, covering her mouth. “I’m not feeling so great.” Her porcelain skin is as white as cake flour. “Excuse me, I just need to use the restroom.” She runs clumsily from the room.

Drew gestures to her empty chair with one gorgeous hand. Does he have a manicure? His nails are shiny.

“Meenie, you should take over,” he says, laughing. The others join him with their own chuckles. “You seem to like being in control.”

I get up and cross over to Feather’s chair, calling his bluff.

“First order of business,” I announce. “All in favor of giving Drew a time out?”

Everyone but Drew looks down at the ground. I feel like a high school teacher looking for a volunteer to solve a chemistry equation. Drew maintains steady eye contact, his kissable lips curved in a smug grin.

“Fine. I’m complicated,” I spit out. “But I was just joking around with you. Can’t you take a joke? I’ve hung out with guys before. Most of my friends in school were other wrestlers, and they constantly razzed each other about their balls. Why is it that some guys can’t take the same joke, when it comes from a woman?”

The group is very still, like they’re pondering the same question.

One woman raises her hand. Deborah has been coming to the group for a few months now, trying to cope with her anxiety over trying to be the perfect mother. In fact, that’s why most of the ladies are here. I’m the only one who doesn’t have any major issues, probably because I don’t have kids. I only started coming here by accident. I don’t have problems like these people do.

Deborah keeps waving her hand. I nod for her to go ahead, and she says, “I was watching a TV show last night, and the wife said something to the man about him not having any balls… and he killed her. He picked up a hammer and just whacked her right on the head.”

The group gasps, and Drew starts to laugh. He pretends to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes.

Within seconds, everyone is asking Deborah what TV show it was, and they start talking about the show. One of the younger women pulls out her phone and starts reading text messages, oblivious to everyone. The few older men in the group just look confused.

I’m terrible at leading this group.

My heart sinks. For the past few months, I’ve been harboring a fantasy that I could be an assistant to Feather, or one day run my own support group. I’d have to take some more courses, like Feather’s been doing, but now those dreams are evaporating.

I glance over at the door and rub my damp palms on my jeans. Tonight is a total write-off. I came here to get some wisdom, but clearly fate had other plans.

Total disappointment.

I keep staring at the door and feel a rush of relief as I imagine myself slipping out right now. Maybe my time at this group has run its course, and I should find something else to do Tuesday nights. I hear there’s a good pottery studio here at the community center.