Page 41 of Resolution
Before Cars can respond, Rowan interrupts, waggling his eyebrows, “I’ve taken thelibertyof planning tonight’s events. You can thank me later.”
Oh, fuck. This could go so wrong tonight. “No fucking strippers. I’ve got all I need with Samantha.”
“Oh, don’t be such a sourpuss,” Pops, of all people, chimes in. What. The. Fuck. I’d never take him for a strip-joint man.
Zane walks over to greet me with a handshake. “Hey, man. I distinctly remember, you were all about the strippers at my bachelor party. Payback’s a bitch, brother.” Zane’s mischievous grin tells me he knows something I don’t. Christ. I hope it’s not what I think it is.
The next to greet me is Nate, my brother-in-law. He’s flanked by my boisterous cousins. Each is about ten years younger than I, but are married nonetheless. Gabe, Mike, and Heath all have smug grins plastered on their faces. They know what’s coming, but knowing these numbskulls, they won’t let me in on the secret.God, I wish I wasn’t such a jackass to them at their bachelor parties. I have a feeling I’m going to pay for my sins tonight.
Each of my cousins greets me with a handshake and slap on the back. They all have something snide to say that makes me worry my fears are coming true.
I’m pleased to see Riggs, Boone, and many of the guys from Riggs’ barbeque here, too. Carson must have invited them. Sure, we’ve worked together before, but I guess nothing says bonding like a bachelor party. Christ, I hope I don’t live to regret this night.
Holy shit, Brian Ford, my buddy from high school’s even here. I haven’t seen him since his wedding, about five years ago. I walk over to him and thank him for coming. He razzes me about finally taking the plunge, but before I move on to greet another guest, he sincerely states, “Congratulations, man. You’re in for the ride of your life.” I can’t help but think of Samantha and everything that’s happened since we met. It sure has been a ride, but it’s one I never want to get off.
I take the time to introduce Jason Riggs and the members of the team I will soon work with to my family. I haven’t worked with Trent Daniels, Drew Warren, or Ira Michaels much in the past, but from the way they’re joking around, I’m sure to get along well with them.
Once I’ve greeted everyone, Rowan announces to the crowd, “Gentlemen…” Quickly, the crowd settles and he continues, “If you’ll follow me, I’ve arranged for our night of festivities as we celebrate Enzo’s end to being a bachelor.”
Hoots and hollers erupt around the room. Comments range from, “Sorry, sucker,” to “It’s about time,” and probably everything these bozos in front of me can think of. These guys let me know their thoughts on my impending nuptials.
We walk outside to find two large custom passenger vans, with accompanying drivers, parked in my parents’ driveway. They weren’t here before when I parked. We each pile into one of the vehicles. Once inside, I find they seat fifteen, but with most of us being larger than average height, I’m sure Rowan took that into consideration when he ordered the vans.
Rowan takes a seat next to me. I turn to him, shaking my head. “How the hell did you pull this off?”
“You know me and secrets, Harps. Planning this was a walk in the park.” Rowan waggles his eyebrows, causing me to sigh and shake my head.
“At least tell me this,” I plead. “Will Samantha be speaking to me in the morning?”
The entire van erupts with laughter. I internally cringe at all the things he could have up his sleeve. Why the fuck did I get in this car?
Gunderson doesn’t make it any better when he chimes in, “Oh, Harps. You should be scared.”
“I’ve been looking forward to this night for the past few weeks,” Ira Michaels pipes in. “Tonight’s going to be legen-dary! It’s sure to keep up with the stories Carson’s told me about you.”
Fuck a duck! I’m utterly screwed. I look out the window and wonder if there’s a way to come out of this night without smelling like cheap perfume and lipstick on my collar. I used to pay the strippers extra to do that for my buddies. We’re heading downtown. It’s a little-known fact that Portland’s the strip capital of the world, if I recall statistics from my youth correctly. I guess I can always Uber it home if necessary before things get out of control.
It’s funny. As a single guy, I was never much into strippers. I have no problem with them, but I never got my kicks going into strip clubs. I did, however, love to act like it was my thing. I always was the one who paid for the bachelor’s last lap dance and did whatever necessary to make sure he went out of the single life in style. Now, the thought of anyone other than Samantha being near me is completely repulsive.
We drive down a road known for its establishments, and my palms sweat. Why the hell did I have to be so rebellious in my youth? When I see we’re passing a few of the better-known places, I relax my stiff muscles,a little.When we pull into a parking lot, all my tension returns.
To my relief, we’ve stopped at some food trucks. Not a stripper joint in sight. Thank God. We all pile out and look over various carts. I make my way to a place called Chicken and Guns, where I order wood-fired chicken with a Peruvian sauce made ofcilantro, jalapeños, and sour cream with a side of sea-salt fries. There’re tables between the vendors and I take a seat as I wait for my meal.
“Gotta get some grub before we hit the bars,” Heath, my youngest cousin, says as he rubs his belly in anticipation of the delicious-smelling food.
“Eat up, sucker,” Mark McGowen, my new teammate, teases. “You’ll be doing shots before the night is through.”
Oh, hell no. My days of doing shots with these crazy-ass people were done, the moment they mentioned strippers. I’ll gladly go out of bachelorhood as a dud, if it means I won’t have a hangover and actually remember my night. I’ve seen“The Hangover” enough times, as well as experienced the real-life version of that movie, to know what Iwon’tbe doing tonight.
When everyone finishes their meal, we get back into the car and head to the outskirts of town. Though we approach it from a different side of town, I quickly recognize our location as Riggs’ headquarters.We’d better not be getting in a plane.
To my surprise, we end up at an underground shooting range.Who would have known? Iguess with all the ops that he runs, Riggs needs a place for people to keep sharp. We break out into groups, taking turns at unloading at a target for the next hour or so. Of course, there’s friendly competitions and side-wagers going on. After taking a bet with Ira Michaels, I know he’s a guy I want on my six.Damn, the man has a great aim.
When we exit the building, I realize the night’s still young. We pile back into the vehicles and make our way back to the city. Once downtown, my fears from earlier return with a vengeance. Music plays in the background and people have conversations. We make a large loop and end up in front of Allure, Rowan’s restaurant and club. Relief once again washes through me.
Once inside, I’m surprised to see the club has been closed for a private party. Shit. It never occurred to me. Rowan might hire strippers and bring them here. The entire ride up to the club has my nerves on edge.
I nearly sing when I see tables set up for poker. Rowan even has dealers and a waitstaff to bring us drinks. When he announces, “Hey, guys, anything you want from the kitchen, just me know.” I could almost kiss him.
