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JEANINE GLANCED at the clock on the wall of the Mystic Grill. She wasn't just annoyed—she was fully pissed. Her boyfriend of three months, Gabe, was supposed to meet her there an hour ago, but he was a no-show.
She glimpsed at her phone, hoping for a notification from the absent boy, but nothing came. With a sigh, she shifted her gaze around the bar.
Unease crept in as she sensed the weight of someone's stare. Sure enough, across the room, a man was watching her with a curious expression. Jean quickly looked away, hoping he wouldn't take it as an invitation to approach.
In his defense, Jeanine looked stunning that evening. Her short black curls, reminiscent of Betty Boop, framed her face perfectly. The fitted black dress she wore accentuated her figure beautifully.
Her makeup was subtle—just a soft dusting of brown eyeshadow and a glossy peach lip. The black heels she wore added a touch of height and extra flair to her ensemble.
With her jacket draped over the chair, her entire outfit was on full display.
Jean's patience finally ran out. She shot up from her seat and made a beeline for the exit, too upset to even remember her jacket.
Clutching her phone in hand, she was ready to blow up her boyfriend's phone for leaving her hanging . . . again. The Wingrove girl couldn't comprehend it—if he couldn't keep the plans, why suggest them in the first place?
And why not at least call to say he wasn't coming?
She quickly tapped his contact and held the phone to her ear, standing just outside the Grill as she scanned the area, hoping to spot him.
"Hey," Gabe's voice finally came through, and Jean let out a scoff. He had just stood her up, and all she got was a hey?
"You can't be serious right now. 'Hey'?" Jean's voice cut through the line, her frustration evident.
"Gabe, did you forget what today was?" she inquired, glancing around as she spoke. Her irritation grew with each word.
"Wait, it's not your birthday, is it?" Gabe asked, only fueling her frustration.
