Trick by Lori Garrett

my mind and Daisy gives a little huff across the table. “Uh huh,” I say.
    “Are you even listening?” she asks.
    “Sorry, Daisy. I’m so damn tired. But, yes, I’m all ears. You and Clay.”
    “Right. So after your dad stepped aside, and Clay and I really got to talking...well, let’s just say you aren’t the only one who didn’t sleep in their own bed last night.”
    “What?” My mouth drops open. “You went home with him?”
    Daisy nods, a huge, dreamy smile on her face. “I didn’t fuck him, I swear. But good god, did I want to. He’s amazing, Harlow. He’s polite and funny, and the things that boy could do with his mouth—” Daisy starts to dramatically fan herself with her menu.
    “So, really you should be thanking me for bailing last night.”
    “I guess so,” Daisy laughs. “Fine, you’re forgiven.”
    “I’m glad you had a good time. And I am really sorry. He just showed up and I didn’t think before running out to see him. We left together and it just happened really fast. I’m sorry for leaving you to deal with my dad.”
    “It’s fine.” Daisy falls back in her chair and gives a little contented sigh. “Clay’s tongue more than made up for your irresponsibility.”
    “Two water’s and a coffee.” The waitress reappears and sets our drinks down.
    “Thanks. So, where did you and Gunner run off to this time?” Daisy asks.
    “Are you girls ready to order, or—I’m sorry, did you say Gunner?” The waitress asks. My eyes snap up and settle on her nametag.
    Rochelle. I run the name through my memory, but come up empty. I can’t think of how she’d know Gunner and me.
    I nod slowly, cautiously.
    “Do you know him?” Daisy asks, and I’m so glad to have my best friend here with me. Daisy will jump in and get right to the point in situations that make me want to run and hide until everything blows over.
    The waitress pops a hip and narrows her eyes at me. “Gunner Hunt? Owns the bar over on twelfth?”
    “Owns?” Daisy asks, looking to me for confirmation. My brain is spinning fast, and all I can do is shake my head. I realize I have no clue what the truth is. “Well, well,” Daisy says, and her tone implies a whole hell of a lot more.
    “Gunner Hunt, yes,” I confirm, my hands shaking hard.
    “How do you know him?” Waitress Rochelle asks.
    “ I—” I stripped for him, sucked his dick, got cuffed to his bed, and then made love to him last night, that’s how.
    “We’re old friends of his,” Daisy interrupts.
    Rochelle taps her pen on her notepad, her gorgeous mouth twisted into a scowl. “Gunner doesn’t really have many friends. We sort of keep to ourselves.”
    “We?” I think I stop breathing.
    “Yeah, I’m his girlfriend. Actually, I’ll be his fiancée, soon as I can get him down to the jewelry store. He keeps those crazy hours, you know. Running the bar and upkeep on that big ass house he bought.”
    I’ve definitely stopped breathing. Darkness cuts in in my peripheral vision. Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out. I concentrate on a smudge on my knife, transforming the mark on it into a Rorschach Test, every image a broken heart. A sign of pain. Blink. Handcuffs, chaining me to the sadness.
    “Right,” I hear Daisy say, but her voice sounds like it’s coming down a long tunnel. “Well that’s great, isn’t it?”
    Blink. Rain clouds. Drowning me. I refocus. Gunner staring inside my soul before he rips it out. Laughing. All I can think about is him whispering in my ear last night that he’d never love anyone but me. How he’d do anything to protect me.
    “Harlow?” Daisy’s voice is loud and falsely cheerful. “That’s great news, right?”
    “Oh, yeah, congratulations.” My voice quivers like a nitwit’s.
    “Harlow?” Rochelle says, spitting venom over the two syllables.
    “Fuck,” Daisy mutters under her breath, realizing her mistake. If Rochelle is basically engaged to Gunner, she knows.
    “So, you’re the slut that has her