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with unusual softness.
    Sighing, I tell her, “I’ll try, Pepper.”
    Jumping on my bed, she envelops me in her arms and we fall asleep, cuddled like little kids.
     

 

     
     
    The house was quiet while I got ready for my date. Olive and Pepper had gone to dinner at Pepper’s parents’ house tonight. Her mom needed help getting the house prepped for a fundraiser, so she had told the girls that they could stay the night if it got too late. Turning the music up, I enjoyed my primping time alone. I found a sexy pair of panties and a matching bra to put on. Admiring myself in the mirror, I thought just how much Jackson would enjoy this ensemble.
    In the closet, I found a pair of dark skinny jeans and a green tunic. After dressing, I slipped on some heeled boots. I was ready for my date. Definitely in Man-Killer Mode now. Such a far cry from the hideous woman I was earlier today. It was after that moment that I had vowed to never leave the house not made up ever again.
    Checking my phone for the time, I realized it was already ten after seven. Well, at least Jackson hadn’t arrived yet. Turning off the music, I sat in the recliner, waiting for Jackson to pick me up.
    Jerking awake, I realized I had passed out waiting for him. I looked at my phone to check the time and see if he had messaged me. It was 10:15. What the hell? What was worse was that I had no messages from him. Quickly, I fired off a text to him.
     
Me: Jackson, I think you forgot something. Did something come up?
     
    I got up and went back to my room to freshen my makeup and make sure my hair was still reasonable looking. Fifteen minutes later, I still didn’t have any messages from him. Okay.
     
Me: Okay. I’m not sure what to think right now but it sucks. Call me.

    I was trying not to seem desperate. There was nothing I hated more than to have a man thinking I was waiting at his beck and call. After I paced the room for another fifteen minutes, a text chimed.
     
Jackson: Something came up.
     
    What the fuck? Hell no. It was almost 11:00 and I had been completely stood up with a shitty excuse.
     
Me: I see. Well, have a nice life.

    There. I officially ended something that had potential for a lot of fun. Whatever. Grabbing my purse, I headed out the door. I was going to Dempsey’s to see the band Ian had mentioned earlier today. Maybe I’d find a new prospect. The weekend was not over yet.
    After the quick cab ride over, I hopped out and headed toward the door with my twenty ready in hand. I had catching up to do. Stalking up to the bar and sliding up onto the only vacant seat, I met Ian’s shocked stare.
    “Andi, I didn’t expect to see you here,” he stammered, realizing I was supposed to be with Jackson.
    “I’ll take two shots of Jägermeister and a Corona,” I told him, snubbing his statement. I slapped down another twenty.
    Ignoring my twenty and my response, he turned to make my drinks. A few minutes later he set them down in front of me. Quickly, I knocked back the two shots and chased them with my beer. When I gave him the look that said I needed another round, he simply nodded and repeated my order. After the second round, I realized I was quickly getting fucked up.
    “I’ll take another round,” I slurred to Ian. He rolled his eyes and made me another round. While I was waiting, some douchebag sidled up next to me. His hair was slicked back and he reeked of cheap cologne.
    “I’d like to throw this blond bimbo over the bar and fuck her tight little ass,” he suggested in a snarky tone to his equally douchebaggy of a friend, both of them laughing hysterically.
    Before I could even formulate a response, Ian slammed his fists onto the bar in front of them and glared their way. He looked quite fearsome with his piercings and angry Irish temper flaring. “Get the fuck out of my bar. We absolutely will not condone any type of derogatory comments to any female in this bar,” he growled. The guys started backing away and were met