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Wasted Words Page 20
Author: Staci Hart

I noticed he had a friend in tow, Martin, I suspected. It took me a minute to figure out his costume — royal blue slacks, a deep red cardigan, a blue button-down shirt and red bow tie. The 35mm camera hanging from his neck gave it away … I figured he was either Peter Parker or Jimmy Olsen, but Jimmy wouldn’t wear those colors. Really, no one should wear those colors, but he was adorable in his own right, with kind eyes and a friendly smile that I found myself mirroring.

“Hey, Cam,” Tyler said when he’d approached. “This is my friend Martin.”

He stuck out a hand, using the other to push his black-framed glasses up his nose. “Nice to meet you.”

I grasped and shook it. “Same here. Peter Parker, right?”

His cheeks flushed a little. “Yeah. Glad you guessed it. I was worried I wasn’t creative enough, but I put it together last-minute.”

“Nah, you did great.” I smiled at him. He really was cute for a ninety-pound accountant, plus, I was a sucker for nerdy underdogs. My next thought was that I’d work on making a match for him tonight. My smile widened, taking stock of the girls I’d seen, sorting through them for a girl who would complement his charm. I was almost positive I’d seen an adorable girl earlier dressed up as Snow White from Fable who could be perfect for him.

“Come on, let’s get you fellas a drink.” I swung my arm in invitation and headed to the bar.

There were some open seats near the back of the bar, since almost everyone had spread out among the cocktail tables on the floor, and some people had moved further into the store, sitting on the clusters of leather couches.

We took our seats as Bayleigh made her way over with a smile. “Hey, Tyler, good to see you. Whatcha drinking?”

“Yuengling for me. Bayleigh, this is my buddy Martin.”

Bayleigh smiled sweetly. “I’m Bay, nice to meet you, Martin.”

“Bay?” I asked with a brow raised.

“What? I’m trying it on,” she answered.

Tyler quirked his brow. “Bae? Like the slang for baby?”

Bayleigh groaned and rolled her eyes. “Seriously, nothing works. I have no options. How about just calling me B?”

Tyler’s eyes squinted. “Like a bumblebee?”

She groaned again, and I laughed. “What’s your middle name?”

But she shook her head. “I’m not telling.”

My brow climbed. “That bad?”

“Worse,” she said, lips flat. “Anyway, what are you drinking, Martin?”

“Make Cam guess,” Tyler said to Martin. “It’s one of her parlor tricks.”

I laughed. “Um, let me think.” I looked him over and tapped my lip. He seemed like an unfussy enough guy, but definitely not a beer drinker. Something light without being weak. “Vodka soda.”

He smirked. “Rum and Coke. I have a sweet tooth.”

Tyler nudged me. “Look at that. Cam was wrong. I should have bet on it.”

I nudged him back, irked. “Speaking of bets, you owe me twenty bucks. Check them out.” I pointed to The Reader and Batman as they stood close to each other, smiling and blushing happily.

“Dammit,” he nearly whined, but he reached into his pocket and forked out a twenty anyway.

Bayleigh smiled at Martin across the bar. “So who are you supposed to be?”

“Peter Parker. Who are you?”

Her smile stretched wider as she poured his drink. “Gwen Stacy. I saw Green Goblin over there earlier,” she said with a nod toward the romance side of the bar. “Make sure you keep an eye on him.”

Martin leaned toward her. “Wouldn’t want him to steal you away.”

She leaned in too, handing him his drink slowly. “That would be a shame, wouldn’t it?”

I blinked. Nope. Nope. Nope. Actual Spiderman was feet away from her behind the bar, with abs I could see through his spandex and an ass that looked like it was cell-shaded from a fantasy, and she was making eyes at underdog Peter Parker in a bow tie. All my plans disappeared in a poof, right before my eyes. Greg would be alone without Bayleigh — I had no other prospects for him, and he deserved someone as sweet and loving as Bayleigh. After working on the two of them, I wasn’t ready to give up on them, not yet.

Which meant I had to put a stop to Martin.

“So, Martin,” I said a little tighter than I meant, “tell us about your job.” Because if talking about accounting didn’t kill the vibe, I was in deeper trouble than I thought.

“Oh, it’s kind of boring,” he said with a shrug and a blush, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I’m a bookkeeper for Nelson and Neilson. We work mostly with people in the entertainment industry.”

Bayleigh lit up. “Like with studios and stuff?”

“No, with the entertainers themselves.”

“Anyone I would have heard of?”

He smiled. “We do Jay-Z and Martin Scorsese’s taxes.”

She gasped. “Oh, my God, have you seen them?”

Martin’s ears turned red. “I’ve met them both. Aside from being super intimidating, they’re both actually really nice guys.”

Her brown eyes were wide and full of stars and hearts. “That’s so cool.”

“Definitely a perk of the job. Lady Gaga came in last week — she’s thinking about hiring us.”

Bayleigh leaned on the bar and propped her head on her hand.

I blinked again. Of all the accountants in all of New York, Tyler had to bring in one who rubbed elbows with Jay-Z. Or at least punched numbers for him.

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