Becca had never seen him like this. It was like a new and improved Jameson. She almost didn’t recognize him when he walked in.

She’d been sitting at the bar with Prandi, making small talk and trying not to sprain her neck with looking at the door every five milliseconds when he’d entered.

He was walking – no – swaggering, with his head held high and a militant gleam in his eye. Jameson positively oozed with confidence. Where was the shy diffident guy who only came out of his shell when he’d had a few beers, and then only did silly things like dance the worm? This guy would surely never be caught dead doing the worm. This guy was cool.

Becca watched Jameson say hello to the hostess, watch the hostess flirt a shoulder at him, and fumed. Prandi watched Becca out of the corner of her eye and stifled a giggle.

Then Jameson had the unsufferable gall to hug Prandi as if he hadn’t seen her in months. Well, thought Becca, two can play this game! Becca flashed Jameson her most devastating smile.