A Bet Gone Wrong

Chapter Forty-Six: Help from Patrick

Rebecca

To my surprise, it didn't take much for Patrick to convince Cameron to let me go to the store with him. My guess being because Patrick lied and said we were just going to pick up some supplies for the party tonight.

"So what did you have in mind for a gift?" He asked me once we were driving through town.

I had figured that we would just go door to door until we found a store that sold good party supplies and gifts, but Patrick told me that he already had a place in mind.

My eye brows furrowed as I began to think of something a guy like Cameron would like. The only thing I could think of getting him when I first found out, was a basket full of condoms. I'm sure if I told Patrick that though, he'd tell me how great of an idea it was. "Um...I don't know what exactly I'd get him, but I know for a fact that I want it to be meaningful," I replied.

A red light had us stopped, so he was now able to actually look at me and talk. "Define meaningful," he told me.

Part of me wanted to tell him that he wasn't a five year old and to figure it out, but then I remembered how he was being generous enough to help me find the best gift for Cameron. "I don't want my gift to end up in the trash. It should be something that will leave him speechless, and something he'll greatly appreciate," I explained.

"Damn, you make it seem like this is the last birthday he'll ever have," he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes and gestured to the traffic light that had just turned green.

"It's not that, I just want it to be really good, and I don't-"

"You don't want Clara's gift to out-do yours," he finished my sentence for me.

My eyes narrowed and I envisioned myself blowing him up with a grenade. "Yeah, that's why," I muttered.

He nodded his head, understanding where I was coming from, and pulled the jeep into a parking lot. I glanced up to see the name of the building, and frowned when it read "Scrapbook Shop." Before I could ask Patrick why we were here, he got out of the car, and headed to the entrance of the building. Quickly, I got out of the car too, and the doors locked behind me. When I got up to the door where he was patiently waiting, he opened it and held it open for me so I could walk in first. Guess man-whores can be gentlemen too, but only when they feel like it.

"What are we doing in a scrapbook shop?" I asked him.

Instead of answering my question like a normal human being, he just walked over to the counter and tapped on a small bell that made a high pitched chime sound. Since I knew he wasn't going to answer me until he felt like it, I just crossed my arms over my chest and joined him at the counter.

A young girl who looked like she was our age, came out of an office that was tucked away behind the counter. Her smile grew wide as she approached us to see what it was we wanted. "Hey Bailey," Patrick greeted her once she got to us.

"If it isn't the worst guy in the world," she replied, giving him a look that made it seem like he was up to no good.

He rested his arms on the counter and smirked, "Oh you know you missed me."

Whoever she was, she thought otherwise, because she returned his statement with a doubtful look. If I had to guess, I'd say she was someone who was most likely hunted by the hormonal lion that stood beside me.

"Whose your friend?" She asked, ignoring his previous statement. I tried to pick up on the tone of her voice to see if she meant that in a friendly or harsh way, but couldn't really tell.