The Love Wager by Lynn Painter

            Where in the hell was that underwired nightmare?

            She checked the bathroom, then leaned down and checked under the bed, but that thing was nowhere to be found. She tiptoed closer to the bed. It was probably tangled in the bedding, but at that moment Jack made a noise and flipped over onto his back, which made her drop down to her knees again.

            Why, you dipshit? screamed her brain in a very high-pitched and hysterical voice. What is the point of that? You’re not invisible if you’re crawling, you tool.

            Hallie got back to her feet and realized that any other time, she’d be stopping to gaze upon the man’s body. His broad chest, tight stomach, and ropy biceps were downright lovely, and she kind of maybe thought she might’ve bitten his forearm last night, but she was too focused on escape to enjoy the view.

            She squinted and tried to see her bra amongst the sheets, but Jack seemed to be breathing a little louder, so she couldn’t risk it. She said, “Fuck it,” and gave up, grabbed her purse, and left, letting out her breath when the door finally shut softly behind her. She could feel her bralessness as she jogged down the corridor, and she crossed her arms when she had to stop and wait for the elevator. There were girls who looked good doing the whole braless-in-a-tank-top vibe—Kate Hudson, perhaps—but Hallie was not one of them.

            She looked obscene.

            A housekeeper walked by with her cart, and Hallie wished she hadn’t seen her reflection in that hotel room mirror, because she knew just how awful she looked. As she waited for the elevator, she wondered if Jack would be mad that she left without saying goodbye. Like, what was the etiquette in that situation? She’d never been a one-nighter kind of girl, so she didn’t know what sort of niceties were usually exchanged before parting. Maybe I’ll creep on social media and DM him. “Thanks for the brilliant bonk, bro—”

            But before she could even finish that thought, it hit her.

            She didn’t know his last name.

            The elevator doors opened, and she was in the grips of a tiny freak-out as she went into the shiny car and hit the lobby button.

            Holy shit, I don’t know his last name!

            It wouldn’t be hard to figure out Jack’s full name if she wanted to. His sister had been the bride, and he’d bought a ring at Borsheim’s the day before. It’d be easy for Hallie to find out his last name, but that wasn’t the point.

            She took a deep breath as the elevator reached the ground floor with a ding.

            The point, she thought as she took the walk of shame through the lobby with bed head and unsupported bouncy bits, was that she had just woken up in the hotel room of a guy whose full name she didn’t know. Her undergarment was missing, her head was throbbing, and she had to walk by a front desk that was staffed with employees who all knew she’d worked the wedding the night before.

            Hot mess shit show, indeed.

            And when Robert, the sweet, grandfatherly bellman who usually showed her pics of his kids when she worked a wedding, gave her a friendly wave before dropping his eyes down to her chest and quickly looking away in extreme awkwardness, she realized that she’d definitely hit rock bottom.





Jack


            Jack entered the hotel restaurant, his head throbbing as he walked toward the big table where his entire family was having post-wedding brunch. He was thirty minutes late, and there was approximately zero chance his mother wouldn’t notice.

            “Jackie boy,” his uncle said, smiling and holding up a bagel in greeting.

            “Morning, Uncle Gary,” Jack said, trying to smile but finding it incredibly difficult. Did it have to be so goddamn bright in there?

            “You’re so fucking late,” his older brother, Will, said, half smiling as he chewed what looked to be eggs. “Ever heard of an alarm?”

            Jack ignored him and pulled out the empty chair next to Colin, his best friend and brand-new brother-in-law. He lowered himself into the seat and said, his throat dry as hell, “Where’s Livvie?”

            Colin’s eyes narrowed. “You look like shit.”

            “Gee, thanks.”

            “She’s at the buffet getting more pancakes,” Colin said, gesturing with his head in the direction of the long line of tables.