Page 108 of Say Yes to the Death

“Hey,” Gavin said, whirling away from the window and pointing an accusatory finger. “We said no work talk tonight.”

“You’re right, sorry. Claire, tell us more about the mediation meeting.”

Claire groaned. “Only in America could you destroy government property during a mediation and still think that I’m the problem.”

“That can’t have won her any points with the mediator. You said she stuffed the pictures in her mouth?”

“Yes! It was crazy. I wish Luke had been there to—” Claire stopped. As much as he would have appreciated Wendy’s antics, Luke was not invited to take up space in her brain.

Mindy’s eyes flashed to the rearview mirror.

Claire turned to stare out the window. “Anyway, I’m looking forward to a drink.”

“And drinks you shall have,” Mindy said as she pulled into a parking spot. “Let’s do this.”

Claire shuddered as she crossed the threshold into the bar that exclusively played country music. Getting through this night was going to require a large volume of whiskey.

Luke loved whiskey. She glanced at her phone. No messages from him today. What was he up to right this minute? It was early in Los Angeles, not even dinner time. He was probably busy lying to someone and/or bossing someone around.

“A warm-up before everybody gets here.” Gavin turned away from the bar with three tall shot glasses. A bright green liquid sloshed inside, and there was a spoon on top for some reason.

“Thanks.” Claire said, clinking and knocking it back without asking what it was.

Ugh. Black licorice hit her tongue like an electric shock. “What the hell was that?”

“Absinthe! You said it was a rough day.”

Was this how people in England got through a rough day? Her whole body shuddered.

“Water,” she begged the bartender. “And a beer.” She slapped the tall shot glass on the counter. On her list of all-time least-favorite flavors, black licorice came in right below candy corn.

“Hey guys,” Nicole called as Claire’s beer arrived. “Oh, started without us?”

“You didn’t miss anything,” Claire grumbled.

“Great. Let’s get six shots of cinnamon whiskey, please,” Nicole said to the bartender. Oh, boy.

Claire stared at the amber liquid in her hand. Mixing whiskey and absinthe was sure to be a terrible idea. But it really had been a spectacularly bad day. And at least it would get the licorice taste out of her mouth. And maybe the thought of Luke out of her head.

“Where’s Sawyer?” Kyle asked, turning around.

“Here,” a voice said as the sound of cowboy boots rang out on the wooden floor. Sawyer emerged from the crowd wearing a denim shirt with a bolo tie, jeans that were entirely too tight, and a white cowboy hat that practically brushed the ceiling.

“Are those spurs a tactical weapon?” Claire raised her eyebrows. She pressed her lips together, fighting the laugh that was dying to come out.

“If you think I’m going to come to a country bar and leave without line dancing, you are sorely mistaken,” Sawyer said, taking the shot of whiskey from Kyle. “Cheers.”

They clinked and drank. The cinnamon burned all the way to her stomach. She really needed to slow down. If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up riding the mechanical bull again. And no one wanted that.

“So, how was the rest of your week?” Sawyer asked. He ordered a water from the bartender.

Claire picked up her beer. “Well, the press are hounding me worse than ever since the news about the notes got out.”

Sawyer put his hands up in the air. “It wasn’t me.”

“I know it wasn’t you. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, Wendy also tried to assault me with a fire extinguisher during our mediation appointment but still thinks she has grounds to sue me.”

Sawyer shook his head. “That sounds about right. Oh, I love this song.”

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