I shoot daggers at her over my shoulder. On second thought, maybe that sash will come in handy. I could use it to strangle her instead of myself.

“Do that thing,” Mary whispers, and the girls nod.

I scan the men as they approach. “The short one is the leader. He’s the most muscular because he’s overcompensating for his height. I say he’s in finance. The tall, scrawny one looks like he’s a doctor. He’s the quiet type. The blond knows he’s good-looking, but he’s not a douche about it. I say he’s a personal trainer.”

My eyes land on the fourth man, lingering much longer than they did on his three friends. Tall, dark, and handsome doesn’t quite do him justice. Thick, tousled hair. A clean-shaven, prominent jawline. Broad shoulders. He’s the only one in the group wearing a suit—a suit that looks like it’s tailored perfectly to his body. You know when you can just tell a guy is fit underneath his clothes? The way his shirt stretches across his chest, the tapering at the waist. Yeah, that’s him.

Also unlike his friends, who are surveying each of us to figure out which one they want to hit on, this one’s eyes are zeroed in on me. He walks with a confident stride, lips curved into a flirty smirk. It’s the look of a man who knows what he wants. And he expects to get it.

“What about him?” Andrea asks.

“He looks like an executive of some sort. Definitely in a position of power. And judging by the fit of those pants, I’d put money on him having a fantastic ass.”

The girls burst into giggles just as the men arrive.

“What are you ladies laughing about?” the short one asks. The leader always speaks first. Point for me.

“Oh, nothing,” I say. “Inside joke.”

Mr. Sexy in a Suit shoves his hands into his pockets. “How much money would you put down?”

My nose scrunches. “What?”

“You said you’d bet that I have a fantastic ass. How much would you wager on that?”

I clench my jaw to keep it from falling open. “What do you read lips?”

“I do,” he says with a cocky grin.

I tap my finger against my chin as I make a show of assessing his body once more. “I’d bet fifty bucks I’m right.”

“That’s a confident bet.”

“I’m a confident woman.” At least I was before seven years of marriage stifled me.

Mary rests her elbow on my shoulder. “Fifty bucks from each of you says my girl is right about everything else she said about you too.”

The men exchange glances before their pint-sized leader speaks for them. “You’re on. Let’s hear it.”

I point to each of them. “Doctor. Finance. Personal trainer.”

Their eyebrows lift as they dip into their wallets and place their cash in my hand.

Mr. Sexy in a Suit narrows his dark eyes. “And I’m just the guy with the nice ass?”