Page 128 of Three Grumpy Groomsmen

“The one that can do lattes and cappuccinos and espressos?” Toby stops walking and gives me a steely glare. “Did you get a raise? I’ll kill that bitch Andrew.”

“No. I’m just a good…saver.”

“Well, you definitely don’t spend your paychecks on your clothes. See you tomorrow.” He gives me a friendly wave that belies his insult and crosses the street.

“Damn it,” I mutter. I really did want that coffee and I don’t have a fancy as fuck coffee maker at home. I have a twenty-five dollar one from Target.

I miss the coffee maker at Harrison’s. It did a perfect brew. I miss the coffee shop in Honeysuckle Harbor, which did not do a perfect brew, but came with atmosphere galore and the excellent company of Sam, Ed, and Walt.

Checking my phone with one hand, I rub my forehead with the other.

No texts. Nothing.

I’ve called Ivy twice and I’ve texted Harrison four—okay, five—times. When neither answered, I resorted to texting Ford and even he hasn’t responded to me, which seems out of character.

Did something happen?

Is there a hurricane in South Carolina that I haven’t heard about? They get those fuckers all the time. What if they’re hunkered down with no power, or worse, Harrison’s beach house has been sucked into the ocean?

Or what if they’re having a great time without me? Laughing, having sex, falling deeper in love? What if it’s allbetterwithout me?

Maybe it’s easier with me gone, which is great for them, a virtual hell for me.

I didn’t think this through.

A woman walks past me with her little dog. I’m not sure of the breed but it starts barking riotously at me and trying to nip my ankle. I jump back. “Whoa! Back off, Killer.”

The brunette gives me a glare and bends down to scoop her dog up, like I’m going to kick it or something.

“I wasn’t?—

“Go fuck yourself,” she says in a haughty tone, nestling her still barking dog against her yoga crop top. Her yoga mat slides down her shoulder.

“Real Zen,” I tell her.

“Prick.”

Shaking my head, I walk toward my car, knowing full well it’s going to take me thirty minutes to drive the three miles to my apartment. I tried to walk to work a few times to avoid the traffic but then Gwenyth made a comment that I was very sweaty and she couldn’t concentrate because of it, so the next day I got back in my car and drove to work. After that, I just kind of forgot walking was an option.

That’s what happens when you spend your whole life in the same city.

You kind of forget there are other options.

I stop dead in my tracks.

Fuck this.

Pulling my phone out, I scroll until I find Chess Sam.

He gave me his number before I knew he was Harrison’s grandfather. I shoot off a text.

Hey, is everything okay there? No hurricanes or other disasters?

Sam doesn’t text me back until I’m walking into my apartment. He’s not as attached to his phone as millennials, as he’s told me three times.

No hurricanes. But the FBI is crawling all over town.

I stop and stare at my phone. I know there was an agent trying to get a hold of Ivy, but I guess I figured once she said she didn’t know where Brad is, they’d back off.

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