Page 12 of Accidentally Marrying the Best Man
He has a point, because he’s not really a fuck-up. And he usually cleans up after himself when shit happens. But he’s impulsive and often leaves me to be the responsible one, eventhough I’m the younger brother by five minutes. But I’m pissed off about what he did to Charlotte and not in the mood to be realistic about the situation. “Once is enough,” I growl.
Jay rubs the back of his neck. “Give me a break, I was kidnapped.” Anger laces his voice.
“Oh really? Then how come you’re here now, without me getting as much as a ransom call?”
“I know how it sounds.” He takes a deep breath, then leans over the table like he’s about to confess a sin that will level us both. “Look, before the wedding, I went for a walk, like you told me.”
“Because you were driving me fucking crazy with your surly mood and constant complaining.” I’d been pissed off on behalf of Charlotte, even then, before he stood her up. “Don’t make this into my fault.”
“Yeah, well there was a reason for my mood.” He bristles. “And I didn’t say it was your fault. Let me fucking finish the story.”
“Fine.” I cross my arms and lean back in the booth.
He gives me a look, but doesn’t address my belligerent tone. “So, I’m in the wedding tux, without a coat, and it’s too fucking cold for a walk. But there’s this open catering van outside the chapel and I decide to shelter in there while I have a think on stuff.”
I roll my eyes. “’A think on stuff.’ When did you become Irish? And what fucking stuff?”
“If you would just keep your trap shut, I’ll tell you,” he shouts. The regulars at the bar turn around to look at us. Jay raises his hand. “All good,” he says.
I smirk. “Is it, though? I mean, you just survived a kidnapping.”
Jay sighs. “Do you want me to tell you, or not?” I lean back again, gesturing with my hand for him to continue. “Okay, so I’min the van, with the doors closed because it’s fucking cold, and then it starts moving. I fall over and knock myself out.”
I open my mouth to tell him how unbelievable this story already sounds, but he gives me a look, so I close it again.
“When I come to, I’m tied up in a chair in a cabin up in the mountains. And April, you know the bartender, she’s?—”
“Who?”
“April, she’s worked here for six months.” I shake my head. I have no recollection of meeting someone named April. “Whatever,” Jay continues. “She’s the one who drove the van and the one who tied me up. I told you on the phone that I need you to run checks on her.”
“Right,” I fib. I’ve already forgotten the woman he mentioned. But I wrote it down, and I have every intention of checking up on her. “Didn’t you run a check on her when you hired her?”
“I did, but just a basic employment check. But you’re missing the point?—”
“Okay, yes. Why did she tie you up?”
“She thought I’d be mad that she kidnapped me.”
“Were you?” Pretty much anyone would be irate in that situation. If he’s telling the truth. Jay doesn’t lie, but he sometimes embellishes, or withholds details.
“Furious, but then she explained why she had to get out of town so quickly. And that her car broke down so she had to borrow the van.”
I stare at him for a minute. Jay’s not usually this thick. “She stole the van.”
He scratches his chin. “Well, yes technically. But we gave it back to the catering company.”
“So, she eventually released you? But not in time for the wedding?”
“She did, and well no, we got snowed in. I didn’t get back into town until this morning.”
“And you found the time to call me, but not Charlotte?”
He has the decency to look embarrassed. “I thought she deserved an apology in person. I’ll find her tonight and let her know how sorry I am.”
“Not tonight,” I blurt. “She’s got a lot on her plate with work. There’s a big case or something.”
“Okay,” he drawls, frowning at me. “I’ll apologize tomorrow.”
