The waiter stopped by the table and passed out their beverages. Meg took a long sip of her cold soda, appreciating the way it eased her dry throat.
“Well, you must be doing something right because you’re glowing,” Lizzy said.
“It’s the pregnancy hormones,” Meg muttered.
“No, seriously. You look beautiful,” her friend insisted.
Meg smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Allie Mendez, the office secretary and the third woman in their posse, slipped her cell into her purse and leaned closer to join the conversation. “Maybe I should get myself pregnant, because Lizzy’s right. You’re gorgeous.”
Meg blushed. “And you two need glasses.”
“Not if the guys at the next table are any indication. Look. The blond one can’t take his eyes off you!” Lizzy said, her voice rising in excitement.
Oh no. All Lizzy needed was a target and she’d be aiming Meg his way all night. “I’m sure he’s looking at one of you. Not the pregnant woman in the elastic-waist pants.” Lizzy and her blonde beauty or Allie and her olive skin and luscious curves attracted men wherever they went.
“You must not have looked in a mirror before leaving the house,” Allie told her, a frown on her pretty face.
“Oh, look! He’s coming this way. Now remember. There’s nothing wrong with getting yourself some before your life gets serious.” Lizzy nudged her arm.
“I don’t want some,” Meg muttered. “If he’s so hot, you should—”
“Hi, ladies,” the man said, bracing an arm on the back of Meg’s chair.
“Hi!” Lizzy said too brightly.
“My friends and I would like to buy you all a drink.” He spoke to the table, but his eyes were on Meg.
She shook her head. “We were just having a private convers—”
“We’d like that,” Allie chimed in.
“Mind if we join you then?” he asked, making Meg wonder if he was dense, oblivious, or just that ego-driven.
In response, Lizzy slid her chair away from Meg, making room for the other man to sit. Which, after grabbing his chair and pulling it over to the table, he did. His pals joined them too.
Meg shot her friend an annoyed look.
“Give him a chance,” Lizzy mouthed behind the man’s back.
Rob, Mark, and Ken, they said their names were, as conversation began to flow. Ken was the one closest to Meg, and with his light hair and coloring, he definitely resembled his Barbie-doll namesake. Even if she were interested in a hookup, a preppy man who liked to talk about himself wouldn’t be her choice. She disliked his wandering hands even more.
He brushed her back.
She stiffened.
He sat forward so their shoulders touched. She shoved her chair in the opposite direction.
Somehow he ended up close beside her again, his thigh touching hers.
She was all too ready to go home, but her friends seemed to like the guys they were talking to, and she didn’t want to ruin their time by being rude to Ken. She wouldn’t leave with him, but she’d be pleasant while they were here.
“So what do you do for a living?” he asked.
“I’m a kindergarten teacher.”
He blinked, long lashes framing green eyes. “That’s … brave.”