Page 3 of Love By a Landslide

“The most exciting thing is that we booked a two-night backpacking excursion with a guiding company out there.”

“Wait . . . Brodan agreed to this?” Dirty O’Feelya shot her friend a skeptical look, tapping a long, banana-yellow talon on the bistro table.

“He sure did.”

“Brodan?”

“Yes.”

“Not happily, though, right?”

Lucy’s smile dimmed slightly. “I mean, he wasn’t overly enthusiastic about it at first, but I convinced him. We bought all the gear last week, and he’s been a real trouper about it. Plus, we’ll only be roughing it two nights; the rest of the week, we’ll be in town at an inn.”

A strong side-eye told Lucy her friend wasn’t convinced. “So let me get this straight. Mr. Doesn’t-Know-How-To-Compromise is willing to go on a vacation to a place where there probably won’t be any cell reception, and there are more trees than buildings, and a bug might land on him?”

“Yep,” Lucy said, beaming smugly.

“I’m gagged.” The wig barely shifted as she shook her head. “How did you manage this amazing yet highly improbable feat? Bribes? Sexual favors?”

“I reasoned with him.”

“Well, what a prince. Maybe there’s hope for him yet.”

Lucy’s phone buzzed and she snatched it up with lightning speed.

Brodan:

Just finished, I’m completely wiped and gonna just go home and sleep. Sorry, babe. You understand how it is. I‘ll make it up to you.

Seriously?

Lucy wished she’d been surprised, but the truth was, from the moment Brodan said he had to work late that night, she’d never really expected him to show. Still,she’d held out hope, however misguided it turned out to be.

“Brodan’s not going to make it,” she struggled to confess. “He’s exhausted from work.”

“Shame.” The sentiment lacked all genuineness, but her friend’s pinched brows and head tilt screamed pity. She laid a feather-light kiss on Lucy’s temple. “I’d better go powder my nose before my next set. Love you, sweet pea.”

“Love you too. Brunch soon?”

“Count on it.”

Lucy watched Dirty O’Feelya saunter back toward the stage, simultaneously feeling grateful for her friend’s unyielding loyalty but uneasy that her criticisms of Brodan were a little too spot on. She jabbed a response into her phone, careful not to let her irritation show in the message. The last thing she wanted was a fight on her birthday.

Lucy:

Ok, I understand. See you in a bit. Love ya.

The sickly scent of cinnamon whiskey invaded her nostrils, reaching the table before the returning couple did.

“All outta beer?” Lucy joked to hide her trepidation.

“Nah, didn’t ask.” Victor passed around the shots and said, “Birthdays require Fireball, not beer. This will fuck you up properly.”

Because who doesn’t want to get “fucked up” on their thirtieth birthday, right?

Lucy instantly scolded herself for her snide view. The offer of a celebratory shot was a thoughtful gesture and she needed to be appreciative, even if that particular libation wasn’t what she would have chosen for herself. With a surrendering sigh, she accepted the drink, her hopes of a beer dashed along with the hope that Brodan would have made it out to celebrate her big day.

Chapter two

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