“No, what you need is therapy and maybe a nap.”
“Stacy.”
“I’m serious. This is a bad idea.”
But the idea had already rooted itself. Tara could see it too clearly now. Scott had plans the next night with Jake and Brian, two friends from college who still acted like they were twenty-one even though they all had jobs, rent, and back problems. They were going to The Copper Rail, a downtown bar with live music and too many women who looked good in low lighting. Tara could hire someone to talk to him. Just talk. If he turned her down, Tara could finally breathe. If he did not, she would know before wasting more of her heart.
When Scott came inside, Tara ended the call too fast.
“Everything okay?” he asked, sitting across from her.
“Yeah.” She pushed his coffee toward him. “By the way, where did you say you guys were going tomorrow night?”
“The Copper Rail. Jake’s been begging us to go since his promotion.”
Tara smiled like that information did not matter. “Sounds fun.”
It did not sound fun at all.
By noon the next day, Tara had done the thing Stacy told her not to do.
She found Daisy through a local acting group online. Daisy was twenty-six, outgoing, beautiful in a way that seemed unfair, with glossy brown hair, a tiny waist, and the confident smile of someone who had never wondered whether a restaurant hostess assumed she was someone’s sister instead of his girlfriend. She agreed to the job after Tara explained the situation, though she raised an eyebrow through the video call.
“So you want me to flirt with your boyfriend and see if he cheats?” Daisy asked.
“Not cheat exactly.”
“What do you call it?”
“I just want to see if he takes the bait.”
Daisy looked at her for a long moment. “Do you actually think he will?”
Tara hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Then this might hurt either way.”
“I know.”
But Tara did not know. Not really.
That evening, she and Stacy sat in Stacy’s car across from The Copper Rail, parked behind a delivery van with a clear view of the front windows. Stacy had come only because she did not trust Tara to be alone with her own worst thoughts.
“This is a terrible plan,” Stacy said for the eleventh time.
“You can leave.”
“Absolutely not. Someone needs to witness your bad decisions for legal and emotional purposes.”
Inside the bar, Scott sat with Jake and Brian at a high-top near the stage. Tara could see him clearly through the glass. He wore jeans, a dark green shirt, and the watch she had given him for his birthday. He was laughing at something Brian said, looking relaxed and handsome enough that Tara’s stomach twisted.
Two women approached their table.
Tara leaned forward. “Hold on.”
Stacy sighed. “They’re just talking.”
“They’re inviting girls over.”
“Brian invited them over. Everyone knows how Brian is. Look at Scott. He’s barely talking to them.”
Scott smiled politely, took one sip of his drink, and turned back to Jake.
“Can we please go now?” Stacy asked.
“Not yet.” Tara’s pulse picked up. “Daisy isn’t here.”
Five minutes later, Daisy walked into the bar.
Even Stacy muttered, “Oh no.”
Daisy looked perfect for the part. Black jeans, fitted white top, red lipstick, hair falling in polished waves over her shoulders. She scanned the room once, found Scott, and moved toward him with casual precision.
From the car, Tara could hear nothing, so Daisy had agreed to keep her phone in her purse with the call connected. Tara turned up the volume and held her breath.
“Hey,” Daisy said, her voice coming through the speaker soft but clear. “What are you drinking?”
Scott sounded surprised. “Yeah, um, whiskey soda.”
“Classy. I like that. Well, you’re almost out.” Daisy raised her voice. “Bartender?”
“Oh, no. I’m good, but thank you.”
“You sure? My treat.”
“Really, I’m good.”
Stacy pointed through the windshield. “See? Did I not say?”
But then Brian’s voice cut in. “Oh, come on, man. Just let the pretty girl buy you a drink. What’s it going to hurt?”
Jake laughed. “Just have one more drink with us. We barely ever see you.”
Scott sighed. “Okay. One last one.”
“Yay,” Daisy said. “Two tequila shots, please.”
Scott laughed awkwardly. “You didn’t say shots or tequila.”
“What’s the difference? Live a little. I’m Daisy, by the way.”
“I’m Scott.”
“Cheers, Scott. To a really fun night.”
Tara’s stomach dropped.
“See?” she whispered. “She’s good.”
Stacy rubbed her forehead. “Tara, he said no twice.”
“But then he said yes.”
“Because his idiot friends pressured him.”
Tara barely heard her. She watched Daisy lean closer. Watched Scott smile. Watched the minutes stretch into almost an hour while Daisy worked the plan. She laughed at his jokes, touched his arm, asked about his job, his hobbies, his college baseball days. Tara’s chest hurt every time Scott answered.
“Oh my gosh,” Daisy said through the phone, laughing. “You’re so funny.”
Scott laughed too.
“Ooh,” Daisy said. “Those are some muscles. Do you work out?”
“I used to play baseball in college.”
“Baseball? So what you’re telling me is you’ve got brains and brawn. I like that.”
Tara gripped the phone until her fingers went numb.
“He’s flirting back,” she said.
“Maybe he’s just being nice.” Stacy did not sound convinced this time, but she still tried.
Daisy shifted the conversation. “So, do you live around here?”
“Yeah,” Scott said. “I’m from the area.”
“Well, I’m actually here visiting. Maybe you could show me around sometime.”
“Sure,” Scott said. “Just let me know when and where.”
Tara felt the words like a slap.
“Did you hear that?”
Stacy’s face tightened. “Maybe we should go inside.”
“No,” Tara said. “Not yet.”