Page 33 of The Best Man Wins

“I mean did you use your…magic Braxton tongue?”

“Did I seduce her?”

“Your words.”

“No. Your words. And no, I didn’t seduce her. I simply told her the truth.”

“What’s that?”

“That, very soon, this engagement is going to fall apart. Ray should have someone there to pick up the pieces when it does.”

I turn my eyes away from Braxton’s annoying I-win smirk and watch Mandy instead. She’s matching the men shot for shot. When she laughs, she does it with her whole body, throwing her head back and leaning against Ray. This vulture is picking apart the carcass of the wedding before it’s even died.

I feel sick. “Give me that.” I swipe one of the tasting cups from Braxton and down it in a single swallow.

15

Susie

By time we leave Muddy Waters Distillery, Braxton is the only one of us who can walk in a straight line. It’s a tight fit in the back of the car, and I make sure to sit squarely between Mandy and Ray. Braxton drives us to a seafood restaurant so we can pad our stomachs with a little lunch. I soak up the alcohol with the breaded shrimp appetizer and half a salmon patty sandwich before I excuse myself and dip outside.

Full reception here. I call Thom and put the phone to my ear.

“Well, if it isn’t Thing One,” Thom answers.

“We meet again, Thing Two,” I reply.

“And Thing Three!” Marlee’s voice squeaks in the background.

“You’re on speakerphone,” Thom comments. “Clearly.”

“Good. Maybe you two can help me out.” There’s a white painted bench outside the restaurant, but pacing back and forth helps me think. “We have a code green.”

“Who’s pregnant?” Marlee asks.

“Pregnancy is code pink, dove,” Thom tells her. “Susie is talking about an interloper. Who is it? Have one of Cora’s ex-boyfriends followed her down?”

“Not Cora,” I explain. “Ray. His childhood friend slash first love is here.”

Thom sighs. “First loves are a hell and a half. No one can win with nostalgia. Get her out of there now.”

“Can’t. Braxton has claimed her as his plus one. It’s his latest scheme to blow off the wedding, and frankly, I think he might have a chance with this one.”

“He’s out of control, puppy.”

“I know.”

“Do something about your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I clarify. “We just…you know. Entertain each other.”

“Look, unless you have a circus tent under there, I suggest you stop entertaining and start using it to your advantage.”

“What do you mean?”

“Distract him. Subdue him with your feminine wiles.”

“I don’t have any of those.”

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