Page 13 of Silver Fake

Denise stands up, her coffee cup still in hand. "Well then, let's go inside and help you pick out the perfect outfit. It's my turn to be your fashion fairy godmother."

Sheila suddenly lets out a wide yawn. "I think that's my cue to head home and get some sleep,"

She gets up from her seat and gives Denise a warm hug. "Thanks for the coffee, sis. It was just what I needed." Then she turns to me. "Good luck with the matchmaker. Can't wait to hear all about it."

CHAPTER5

John

"Well,well, well, if it isn't the most famous lawyer in the Lone Star State."

I break into a smile as I turn towards my best friend Wyatt Anderson's familiar voice.

It's Thursday morning and I just walked into the lobby of my parent's hotel in Barton Beach. Despite the unresolved details of the wedding date, I decided to heed my parents' request and make the trip down here early.

And I'm glad I did.

Barton Beach is one of those places where you can't help but feel relaxed. The sun is shining, the ocean breeze is refreshing, and everything seems to slow down just a little bit. I've only been in town for a half hour and I already feel like I’ve left all my work-related stress behind.

Wyatt walks up to me and gives me a back-slapping hug. "What brings you to paradise, counselor?" he asks with a sly grin.

Wyatt and I go way back. We've been best friends since his family moved to Barton Beach from Wyoming when we were both just fifteen. His parents had fallen in love with the beach and the relaxed pace of life here and decided to make the move. As for Wyatt and me, we quickly formed a bond that's withstood the test of time and distance.

Back then, Wyatt started off working as a bell boy at this very hotel. It was a humble beginning, but he had his sights set high. Through sheer determination and hard work, he worked his way up the ladder. Now, he's the general manager of the hotel, a long way from the bell boy he used to be.

Wyatt, however, isn't like any of the other hotel general managers in town. He's not your typical suit and tie kind of guy. He sticks to his roots, perpetually clad in flannel and jeans, regardless of the Texas heat. That, along with his thick beard, makes him stand out in a crowd. But that's just Wyatt for you, always comfortable in his own skin and unafraid to be himself.

Laughing, I shake my head and reply, "I'm here for Angela's wedding. According to Angela's mom, I apparently RSVP'd months ago. And since Angela's mom told my mom I was coming, I'm now I'm obligated to attend."

Wyatt snorts. "Well that certainly explains a lot."

"Explains what?"

Wyatt smirks. "Why your mom has been talking all day about you finally having a girlfriend."

I groan.

I should have seen this coming. My mom has always had a flair for the dramatic, turning minor news into headline-worthy scoops. This, combined with her innate talent for broadcasting every tidbit of my personal life, makes for a deadly combination. It is one of her many charming attributes, but right now, it feels like anything but.

I can already imagine her, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, telling anyone who'd listen about her son's 'serious relationship'. There's no doubt in my mind that by the end of the day, half of Barton Beach will be under the impression that I'm about to announce an engagement. Just the thought of it makes me cringe.

I turn to Wyatt. "The girlfriend situation is... complicated," I admit, my tone indicating that I'm not quite ready to delve into the details. "We'll have to get into it later. But have you seen my parents by the way? I texted my dad earlier to say I was on my way and I was expecting him to be here."

Wyatt looks around like he’s checking for anyone who might be close by, then leans in and says quietly, “We had an issue with one of the guest rooms. Apparently, a newlywed couple broke the shower door off the hinges during some... extra curricular activities.”

Chuckling, I reply, "Got it. That sounds like quite a situation."

Wyatt grins, "It is. Your parents went to the hardware store to see what they could do to fix it in a hurry. But I'm sure they'll be back soon though."

"In that case," I say, "I'm going to head up to my room and drop off my stuff. I'm starving and I need to get some food."

I try to pick up my suitcase but Wyatt beats me to it, smoothly grabbing the handle. "Here, let me take that for you, Counselor," he says, tossing me a keycard. "Go grab some food. I'll drop your bag off in your room."

I blink at him in surprise. "I can carry my own bag."

Wyatt waves off my protest with a dismissive hand. "Don't worry about it. I need to check something on that floor anyway," he says. Then, with a glint of humor in his eyes, he adds, "You can pay me back with a drink later at the Silver Coop. And while you're at it, you can fill me in on this new girlfriend situation of yours. Consider it a fair trade."

"Deal," I laugh, clapping him on the back before making my way towards the hotel's restaurant, the Shore Kitchen.

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