Page 2 of Happily Never After

Claire set the lamp back down and leaned over to pick up their robot vacuum, shaking her head as she shut the door and turned it on. It chugged merrily down the hallway, banging haphazardly off the molding and sucking up clumps of dog hair. Where was that dog, anyway?

Her phone dinged with a notification, and she glanced down then nearly dropped it.Shit. Luke’s flight was arriving twenty minutes early. He refused to check a bag, so there would be nothing to slow him down once he exited the plane.

She scrolled through her recently dialed numbers and found the limo driver.

“Ted! Hi, it’s Claire. Listen, Luke’s flight is landing twenty minutes early. Oh, you are? That’s great. Thank you so much. Tito’s outside with the sign, right? It’s not checkered, it’s plaid. It’s part of the party aesthetic. Listen, just pick him up, okay? Shoot me a text before you leave the airport, and then again when you’re about to pull up the driveway.”

Thank god she had told the driver the wrong time on purpose. Luke landing at the airport with no ride wasnotpart of the surprise party.

She hung up and opened the French doors to the ballroom. It was almost perfect. Pictures of Luke growing up were artistically arranged on tables that were soon to be covered in his favorite foods. A whiskey fountain bubbled merrily in the corner, next to a display of miniature pies—Luke hated cake—that stood nearly three feet tall. A bartender set up glasses at the bar in the corner. At least Mindy had managed to take the snifters to the ballroom before getting busy.

Stepping out onto the stamped concrete patio, Claire waved at George, the plump, middle-aged videographer who worked for her proposal planning business when Luke wasn’t available. He was testing out the projector, which was hooked up to Luke’s video game console.

Cornhole boards and ladder golf stood a few feet away. Cocktail tables were scattered across the backyard under the stars, and a bartender was beginning to set up at the wet bar next to the pool. If anyone walked away from this party hungry and/or sober, it was their own fault.

Was that the tip of a snoot poking out from beneath the banquet table? She strode over and lifted the edge of the tablecloth.

“Rosie! Drop the beanbag,” Claire scolded.

Her elusive corgi clamped down even harder on the plaid beanbag and sprinted out from her hiding place, rocketing toward the edge of the yard. Her nails scrabbled over the dance floor that had been erected over the pool. Claire threw her hands up in the air and crossed the patio back to the house. That furry asshole was as stubborn as she was adorable.

Mindy rushed into the ballroom, nearly slipping on the marble tiles. Her dress was still crooked. “You invited Luke’s mom? Are you insane?” she hissed.

“What? Rachel? I didn’t?—”

“Hello, Claire,” a cool voice said.

Her shoulders bunched up like someone had just run an icicle down her spine.

“I came by to drop this off for Lucas, but I see you’re otherwise occupied.” Rachel eyed the tinkling whiskey fountain and buffalo plaid coasters as if they were going to leap off the table and strangle her. If only.

She stiffly held out a small, lapis-colored gift bag.

The odds that the bag contained a live snake were low, but not zero. Claire took it like it was a bomb and gingerly set it on a cocktail table. “Thank you, Rachel. Luke’s flight hasn’t landed yet. We were just having a small get-together to celebrate his birthday. You’re welcome to stay, of course. He’ll be so surprised.” Because she wasn’t invited.

“I suppose I could stay for a few minutes. Just until he gets here,” she said, already trailing off as she spotted the bar outside.

“Oh—okay.” Claire barely had time to blink before Rachel’s Manolos had clacked across the marble tile and disappeared.

“At least your boobs weren’t out this time,” Mindy said, picking up Rachel’s gift bag and moving it to a table in the corner. It had been several months since Claire’s first meeting with Rachel, during which she had fallen into the pool and lost her top when Rachel arrived unannounced at Luke’s house. Rachel had also briefly served as a defense attorney for the man who tried to kill Claire, so they were definitely even now. They hadn’t made much headway since.

Claire’s phone vibrated, and she pulled it out to see a picture and text from Luke. His childhood sports hero, Tito Corona, held a plaid sign stating “L Islestorm.”

Luke:Is this for real??

“Look.” She shoved her phone at Mindy, who was rearranging the pies on the display. “He’s on his way.”

“He’s totally fan-boying.” She picked up a pecan pie and took a bite. “What did he play again? Baseball?”

“Professional wrestling.” Claire smiled. Mindy’s interest in sports did not extend beyond how the players looked in their uniforms.

“Huh. How did you find him, anyway?” Mindy stepped back and surveyed the display as she munched.

“Donna from the flower shop dated him in high school. He lives in Philly.”

“Damn, Donna. Can I ask an insensitive question?” Mindy polished off the mini pie.

Claire raised her eyebrows. “Is there any other kind of question with you?”

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