Page 7 of Any Cowboy of Mine
“You didn’t. And tip for tonight? I don’t think they like being called ‘chicks.’”
“Probably not. So, anyway, why the emergency call?”
“Let’s head outside, and I’ll fill you in. You bring Joe’s?”
Steve held up a greasy white paper bag that Brad was shocked he’d missed, if for no other reason than the delectable aroma that wafted his direction. Grilled onions, garlic, layered flank steak, and provolone emanated from the bag, causing Brad to temporarily forget about the reason he’d asked Steve to drop by.
“He says hi and that he wants your picture hanging on the wall of the shop so people know he’s friends with the famous author. Maybe you could get him one of those fancy fake-Brads like you got up front there, holding a sign that says, ‘Joe’s a sellout.’” Steve gestured to the cutout of Brad up front.
Brad laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Come to think of it, maybe I should do the same thing at the shop. It’ll go over like roses with the ladies.”
“Not a chance, bud. Plus, you seem to be doing fine with the ladies.”
“True,” Steve said. “So, what’s up?”
“Mind if we eat, then I’ll fill you in?”
“Not at all. I’m not gonna hear a word you say until I put this cheesesteak behind me anyway. I’ll follow you.”
Brad led them outside to a heated patio in the courtyard at the front of the library. It was chillier now at lunch than it was at eight a.m. when Brad had arrived at work. He didn’t care, though, because it was the sunlight he missed the most. He turned his face towards the sun, not caring about the rush of cold air that swirled around him. Steve handed over Brad’s sandwich, and they wasted no time tearing them open.
The men dug into the food, both of them wiping the dripping oil from satisfied smiles when they were done. Not a stray pepper or sliver of steak was left on the paper.
“So, shoot, buddy. What’s going on?”
“Julia’s getting married.”
“Yeah, I know. I already drank you through that therapy session last month. So?”
“So, she invited me to the wedding. ‘They’ invited me.”
“You’re kidding me. She seriously had the balls to do that?”
“That was my exact thought.”
“I mean, you’re not actually thinking about going, are you?” Steve asked.
“I dunno. Maybe. I mean, they’ve both been my best friends for twenty years.”
“Yeah, best friends who slept together behind your back. While you were dating one of them for what six, seven years?”
“Eight as adults, fifteen informally, but who’s counting?”
“Right. And now less than a year after you caught their cheating asses, they invite you to their wedding? Besides, I thought she never wanted to get married.”
“Maybe she just didn’t want to marry me,” Brad admitted, his chin down, his eyes focused on something distant.
“Whatever, man. You’re good to be rid of that brand of crazy. I hate to tell you, but I never really liked her.”
“What? How come you never said anything?” This was news to Brad, even if it was just a friend being nice and picking a side. Everyone except his sister loved Julia. He understood why. On the surface, she was small-town royalty—blond, perky, said hello to everyone she met, and remembered not just their names, but their kids’ and husbands’ and dead grandmas’, too. She was every bit the local politician. Turns out she was just as shallow as one, too.
“Yeah, ’cause that would have gone over well. I dunno. I just always thought she felt like she was too good for you. Something about the way she always looked like she’d rather be somewhere else when you brought her out with your friends. Besides, she didn’t stop by once when Paige was sick, and that’s bullshit.”
“She wasn’t very grateful that way, was she?”
Brad considered that. He’d spent so long trying to make her happy, he’d never stopped to think about whetherhewas happy. Hindsight was 20/20, but part of him wished he’d had his eyes open more during their relationship. Maybe he would have seen what a bad fit they were a long time ago and saved himself the embarrassment of infidelity.
