Page 33 of On the Rocks

“God, I hate golf.”

“Me too.”

“Why does Paul love it so much?”

“I’ve stopped trying to understand. I was gonna suggest we charter a yacht, cruise around Manhattan, and get in on some water sports.”

“I think it might still be a little cold for jet skiing and paddleboarding.”

“Probably.”

“Okay, how about this. We do a private whiskey tasting at the Flatiron Room. Then we’ll have dinner somewhere like Eleven Madison Park.”

“I like it. If he really wants to let loose, we could book in at LAVO. They do exclusive VIP tables with bottle service and private DJ performances.”

“You know what? Book it. We gotta send his bachelor days off in style.” Vincent could rally for one night on the town with the boys. “By the way, how’s Nana Dee doing?”

Trent sighed, his words as gloomy as the weather. “Well, she’s finally made an appointment with her doctor. But she still seems reluctant to actually find out what’s going on, which is driving me crazy.”

I stood, walked to the window, and leaned against the glass. “What’s her hang up? Is it a doctor thing? Does she not like them?”

“As people, she likes them fine. You know Nana Dee—she could make friends with a brick wall. No, honestly, I think it has more to do with what happened to my grandfather. She had to watch him go through his fight with cancer. It was pretty brutal. Sometimes, it felt like the treatments were harder on him than the actual cancer was. Losing him the way we did…I guess it sort of soured her view on medicine.”

“Guess she’s operating under the guise of ‘no news is good news,’” I said. If Dee never got around to getting diagnosed, she could avoid whatever the bad news might be. “Though I’m not sure how long she can put this off. If there’s a problem, I want to know now, before something worse happens.”

“Agreed. That’s why we have to encourage her to go. I’ve tried to reassure her, but every time I bring up the appointment, she just clams up.”

“We’ll get her there,” I said. “She can’t ignore all of us.”

Trent laughed. “She’ll sure as hell try. Anyway, I should let you get back to work. Thanks for checking in, man. I’ll make those reservations.”

“Sounds good.” I hung up, making a mental note to check in on Trent again soon. Planning a bachelor party was one thing, but figuring out what was going on with Nana Dee—that was something else. He needed to know he had us there for him. His parents were still alive, but they were awful—they’d be the opposite of helpful. And while he had a little brother, the kid was still in college. He couldn’t be much help. But Vincent, Dominic,Paul, and I…there was nothing we wouldn’t do for Trent, or for Nana Dee.

A distant rumble of thunder caught my attention, and I grimaced down at the cityscape, watching pedestrians scurry for cover like ants.

“Time to dust off your football jersey!”

I twisted, frowning as Cora barged through the door, notebook in hand.

“What are you doing in here?”

“We have to talk about the high school reunion,” she said.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I went over to the door she’d left open, sticking my head out. “Uh, Connie?”

“She’s on a break,” Cora said. “And people around here think you’re approachable, so let’s pretend that’s true.”

Pretend?

“I’m here to inform you that we—you and I—are now in charge of our high school reunion.”

“Umm…” That didn’t make any sense. “Since when?”

“Since Trish Baxter—you remember her? Class president the year between us? Anyway, she’s going on a three-week Caribbean cruise with her husband and dropped the preparations in our laps. Well, technically my lap. But it shouldn’t all be on me, so it’s our laps now.”

“What? No.”

“No?”

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