The man is never nice just to be nice. There’s something he wants. I have to figure it out fast. I have to be a step ahead of him before he screws me over again.

Fool me once, shame on him. I won’t allow him to fool me twice. Though, I would be down for fooling around with him one last time—or two. I pull out my phone and browse through the old pictures I have of the two of us. Pictures I should erase soon, if not now.

“Claire?”

The guy in front of me is nothing like the picture Danielle sent me.

“Are you lost?” I ask because I swear the guy looks like he just went to prom.

What’s with the thin tie? Who wears ties on a Saturday?

“I’m Brock, but my friends call me BJ,” he says, ignoring my question.

I nod, horrified by the way he takes my margarita and drinks it all.

“That’s good,” he says. “What did you order? I need one.”

“Hard lemonade?” I lie, trying to figure out if he even knows what he just drank.

Danielle is a dead woman.

“Giving alcohol to minors is illegal,” I hear a voice right behind me, and my heart stops.

This kid laughs. “I know, I’m 22…”

He looks me up and down. I cringe, this is worse than Anthony Michael Hall showing off a pair of panties in a boy's locker room.

“I have good genes,” he says as he tries to run his hand through his disgusting gelled hair. “You can take them for a spin if you'd like.”

“Nope,” I say.

He sighs. “Damn, I thought that was a good one... Okay what if I’d said ‘I’m 22... but for you I’ll be 69.’”

Someone save me.

“Robbing the cradle, Ms. Solis?” Miller tsks, popping up out of nowhere.

“Shut up,” I say.

“Look, Brock,” I say.

“BJ, I like BJ better.” He winks.

“Cougar,” Miller whispers in my ear, and I shiver as I feel his body close to me.

Be strong, Claire. But think about the children we could have…

Fuck, I’m losing my mind. And to make matters worse, this kid is just letting Miller intrude because there's something he found so fascinating on his stupid phone.

“Listen,” Miller says to RJ, or whatever his name is, “I think this lovely woman deserves a real man, don't you?”

The kid shrugs, getting up from the table. “Yeah. I didn't go to Syracuse to put up with this bullshit. So yeah, man, have at it.”

Un-fucking-believable, I storm out of the bar of my own accord before I get even more pissed at stupid men bargaining for me. As I rushed through the doors and step into the night, I notice Miller next to me. Great.

“Are you stalking me?”