Page 98 of Say Yes to the Death

“Uhhhh. Next up, Best Food Truck,” the emcee continued. He pulled an antibacterial wipe from a tub and wiped down the microphone and podium.

“Let’s go,” Sawyer said, pulling Claire to her feet and laying one hand protectively at the small of her back.

She should stay for the rest of the awards. It wasn’t a good look to duck out before all the winners had been recognized. But she didn’t care. Her entire body burned with the fire of a million suns. She held her head high and took short, measured steps on the way out despite the desire to scream until the entire remaining row of awards shattered. She waved goodbye at a few business owners on her way out.

“Miss Hartley,” someone called as she had her hand on the door. “Could I bother you for a quote for the Standard Times?”

Claire whirled around, ready to explode. How had the press gotten inside? Officer Shiccitano was failing miserably at his job. She would have been better protected by half a ham sandwich.

“He means for the event.” Sawyer nudged her with his elbow, and it was like the beak of a dolphin crashing into her rib cage at thirty miles an hour.

Claire winced and set her gaze on the reporter with a pad of paper and press badge. “Sure. I would like to extend a formal congratulations to Wendy and The Yes Makers. That restaurant proposal was really…unique. I’m sure we both have a lot of exciting proposals in the works this year. Check out my blog for more Happily Ever Afters.” She whirled and pushed through the double doors to the outside, not waiting for a response.

Sawyer followed close behind her. “Are you okay? Do you need anything? Froyo?”

She exhaled noisily and turned to face him. “I’m good. I’m just going to go home. Or maybe drink a fifth of vodka and run a 5K. I haven’t decided. See you later?”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “See you later.”

She climbed into her car and flung her clutch into the passenger seat. She pulled out of the parking lot, waving at Sawyer, who still hadn’t moved. Her grip was so tight on the steering wheel that her hands ached.

A single parking spot was open on the corner by her third-favorite bodega, and she whipped into it without thought. All at once, she was overwhelmed by every negative feeling she had harbored for the last four months. She emitted a scream that was so loud she could have sworn she saw the glass shudder. Was screaming therapy a thing? If not, maybe it should be.

Her phone vibrated, and she pulled it out of her purse. Ignoring the text that had just popped up from her mother, she went straight to her group text message with Mindy and Nicole. Her hands shook as she typed a message.

Claire: Code Purple. This is not a drill. Bring your college yearbooks and meet me at thewarehouse tonight at 10.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

To Do:

- Update Code Purple protocol

- Nail that skeezy fiancé-stealing twat to the wall

“Thank you for coming tonight. I know I’ve never called a real Code Purple before, so great job on the quick and organized response. Although next time, Nicole, try to remember the freeze-dried meals and guide to edible plants in the Northeast that I stashed in your cupboard. I called you here tonight for two reasons.” Claire paced back and forth in front of the whiteboard, opening and closing her collapsible pointer. “I have to tell you both something. Try not to freak out.”

Mindy and Nicole sat at the conference table. Nicole was in her PJs, and Mindy’s hair and clothing were so disheveled it looked as though she had just climbed out of a wind tunnel. Rosie had flopped dramatically into her bed in the corner of the warehouse. Mindy was taking notes on her tablet, and Nicole was trying and failing to stifle her yawns.

“First, the slightly less terrible thing. Wendy won tonight.”

Nicole stopped yawning and looked scandalized. Mindy slammed the table with two fists before standing and putting her coat on.

“Are you freaking kidding me? Where is this bitch? Let’s go, right now. I’m going to drive my car through her house.”

“It’s okay, Min. Sit.”

“It’s not okay. You own that award. They literally made that award category because of you. What was her proposal? Let me guess, that generic-ass restaurant one from the blog.” Mindy still had one arm in her coat.

Claire paced back and forth. “Bingo. That proposal didn’t even need a planner. I don’t know how she won. But I know she didn’t do it honestly. This insane, disease-riddled koala bear has taken too much from me. At some point, you have to stop waiting for the universe to dole out your karma. Today, I’m going to be the karma. I’m going to find out how she did this. And then I’m going to use that information to get her to drop the lawsuit. Who’s down for a stakeout?”

Nicole put her hand up.

“Did you have a question or are you committing to the stakeout?” Claire asked.

“Both. Will there be snacks?”

“Obviously. Next question,” she said, pointing the rod at Mindy, who also had her hand up.

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