7. Chapter 7
seven
“Let me get this straight.” Annie shifted on her stool and swirled her straw in her Crash Bandicoot cocktail. “You moved out of Lex’s apartment, spur of the moment, in the middle of a Tuesday? Just like that?”
“ While her car is in the shop,” Kris added oh-so-helpfully.
I shifted guiltily on my barstool. I wasn’t sure why they seemed upset about this but based on their disbelief and the chastising tones of their voices, I’d clearly done something wrong.
I took my time chewing on my Nacho Mama Fries, my gaze darting around the establishment.
The smell of fried food and burgers hung heavy in the air, mixing with the faint, fruity notes of the cocktails on the table.
The electronic dings and music from arcade games weren’t overwhelming from where we sat, but when combined with the laughter and chatter from all the other patrons, it could be a bit much after an hour or two, at least for me.
Nacho Mama Fries were one of the many stellar hallmarks of the bar-arcade hybrid where me, Lex, and three of our closest friends met for girls’ night every Thursday.
Supposedly, after the original bar-cade, Ready Player One, shut down, a few regulars were so bummed that they revived it a few years later with the name Ready Player Two.
New ownership, same classic arcade games lining the walls, same ingeniously named foods.
It was the perfect place for our unusual group to meet.
And, boy, were we unusual. We had me, the old soul who was in bed every night by eight; Lex, my sister the FBI agent who couldn’t make it tonight; Hattie, a fifty-something drama teacher and instigator of bets and drinking games; Kris, a CrossFit connoisseur and mother of two whose wardrobe of choice included sundresses and bows and everything you wouldn’t expect someone so muscular to wear; and Annie, a leather-clad, bright-eyed librarian who always carried snacks and would fight the Devil himself for calling her short.
But you know what? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Unable to stall any longer, I finally swallowed the savory goodness.
“Lex is getting married in a few weeks, and I’d been meaning to move out and stop mooching off her for months now.
I finally got around to looking for available listings, and someone urgently had to sell their lease for a place that fit nearly all my criteria.
I meant to bring it up as soon as I signed, but I guess I kept forgetting.
” I paused, the fries suddenly heavy in my gut. “Did I do something wrong?”
All three of them exchanged knowing looks, which did exactly nothing to help my ratcheting blood pressure.
“What is it?” I asked, unable to hide the dismay in my voice.
Kris patted my hand in an attempt to comfort me. “No one’s mad at you, Dekker. It’s not that you did anything wrong , necessarily. Just…”
“Impulsive,” Annie finished for her. She sent her straw in another circle around her glass, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable. “You know I’m not the most tactful person, so don’t take this the wrong way, but you tend to jump into things without thinking them through all the way.”
“Like what?” I thought things through. All the time. Didn’t I?
Annie raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Aside from moving apartments when none of us were available to help you?”
“I reckon you’ve been walking to work alone while your car’s in the shop, too,” Hattie added.
Kris chimed in now. “And let’s not forget how you sold your old bakery and moved here last year without telling Lex in the first place.”
“That shouldn’t count,” I argued. “She was undercover at the time. I couldn’t have told her even if I’d wanted to.”
And, boy, had I wanted to. There was only one person I’d wanted to talk to when that horrible article came out. One person I wanted to rant to about Richard Besserman long before things came to a head. But I couldn’t. Her job—and in this case, her safety —took precedence.
So I’d dealt with it myself. I’d gotten myself into that mess, so I’d get myself out of it. I always did.
“Ah, those were good times,” Hattie mused to herself, her dark eyes twinkling behind her spectacles.
I furrowed my brow. “Why are you talking about it like you were there?”
The corner of her mouth inched up in a sly smirk. “I’m afraid that’s a government secret you won’t get out of me.”
The fact that Hattie knew government secrets wasn’t as shocking as it should’ve been. She was an enigma in nearly every conceivable way. And, in retrospect, knowing Hattie was involved somehow with Lex’s past undercover assignment made sense.
Of all the women in our friend group, I’d found Annie at the bookstore where she worked part time, and, after days of agonizing over coming off as creepy or overbearing, had finally worked up the courage to invite her.
Lex had brought Kris and Hattie into the fold long before then.
Kris, she’d met at the gym. Looking back on it now, my sister had been dodgy and vague when explaining how she knew Hattie. Huh.
“The point is,” Annie butted in, getting us back on track, “you move a lot . And you’ve told us about it literally zero of the times.”
“Sorry.” I shrank in on myself.
If I’d known it would upset them so much, I would’ve waited to move. Maybe. Probably not.
Sweet apple chutney . I was impulsive, wasn’t I? But I had good reasons.
Okay, maybe not good reasons, but they were still reasons.
And what was so bad about taking action? I did enough overthinking when it came to analyzing every social interaction I had throughout the day. What was the harm in turning that off every now and then and just going for it? It felt freeing after so much time spent in overdrive.
“But it all worked out, right?” I offered, desperate to move the attention away from me. “Now, since Lex isn’t here, I think it’s a perfect chance to discuss the plans for her bachelorette party, as well as when we can reschedule it to.”
Hattie perked up at this, a devilish grin spreading across her face and her glasses catching the dim lighting. “Jonas is already on board. The date can be pretty flexible, too. I think the hardest part will be finding enough dresses, especially ones big enough.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “McBride actually agreed?”
Jonas McBride, the FBI equivalent of Lex’s manager as far as I was concerned, was a grumpy, no-nonsense silver fox of a man I’d met exactly once. If I hadn’t seen the way his gruffness melted away around Hattie, I would’ve forgotten all about him.
Kris shook her head in amazement, her black bob swinging like tassels. “Why aren’t you and him together? If you can convince him to do something like this, he must have it bad for you.”
“He does not ,” Hattie protested, avoiding our eyes and fidgeting with her drink. If I wasn’t mistaken—which was a very real possibility where reading people was concerned—she was almost bashful . Hattie was many things. Mischievous. Clever. Playful. But she was not bashful.
“Oh, come on,” I prodded. Someone walked past with a plate of food, the scent of barbecue and onion mingling with the loaded nacho toppings on my fries. “There’s got to be a story there. All I’ve gotten out of you is that you and McBride went to high school together back in the day.”
Hattie shrugged. “And that’s all you’ll ever need to know.”
Kris and I groaned while Annie shrugged it off. She would. Up until today, she hadn’t shown the slightest interest in any guy, and not for lack of trying to get her attention on their part. If Hattie didn’t want to share more, Annie would be the last one to prod for more information.
Kris and I, on the other hand, were all about the mushy, gushy love stories. Hearing or reading others’ stories helped me to live my own vicariously through them, since I clearly wasn’t going to experience one any other way. For Kris, the love stories reminded her of her own.
Must be nice.
“What about a friendly wager?” I offered. “If we beat you at any of the games here, you tell us. And if you win, you get to keep your secrets and additional bragging rights.”
“No dice,” Kris cut in. “She’ll kick our butt on any of the games here. They’re more her generation.”
“Dang straight,” Hattie confirmed with a wink.
Well, crab nuggets . That was the best I got.
“How about,” Hattie offered, dark eyes twinkling behind her spectacles, “a story for a story? I tell more about how Jonas and I know each other if you tell why you were wearing a scarf around your head and ducking out of the squad Christmas party early.”
I narrowed my eyes. Well played, Hattie. Well played.
I hadn’t discussed much of my shameful role in ruining Max’s life with the girls, nor how much he hated me. Lex knew all about it, but there were some things you share with your sister that you don’t with anyone else. Sister code had a higher level of honor than simple girl code.
But, it wasn’t like it was a super deep secret. Maybe I could convince them of my plight, unlike I’d been able to do with Lex.
“All right, deal. But you go first because I don’t trust you not to weasel out of it somehow.”
“As well you shouldn’t.” Hattie took a long draw from her drink, drawing out the silence to increase the suspense like any good drama teacher would know how to do. “Jonas and I were in drama club together in high school.”
My jaw dropped before I could snap it closed again. “ McBride was in drama club?”
It was an out of body experience, learning that the hardcore FBI guy had once been a theatre kid. How he and Hattie had chosen such different paths in life, only to run into each other again thirty-some-odd years later was a mystery I vowed to solve.
Hattie nodded, eyes twinkling with mischief. “He wasn’t just in the drama club. He was the lead for the school musical two years in a row.”
“McBride sings ?” And here I thought it couldn’t get stranger.
“Oh yeah. I don’t know about now, but back in the day, he had the loveliest baritone.” She sighed dreamily, taking another sip of her drink. “And quite the range, too. That’s how he got the lead so often when everything is written for a tenor.”
“So you two just knew each other because he was in the musical?” Kris asked.
“You could say that.”
I narrowed my eyes at Hattie, jabbing a fry in her direction. “But what do you say?”
She shrugged, her silver halo of curls swaying. Her eyes stayed glued on her drink, which was highly unusual for such a bold, unfiltered woman. “We were romantic leads with each other for a few musicals.”
That could explain a little bit about McBride’s fondness for her, but not everything. Unless it had been more than just acting.
I cocked my head to the side, savoring the last of my fries. “Did you two date outside the musical?”
I could never tell when or if Hattie blushed, but I could’ve sworn she was doing so now. It was only a glimpse before she cleared her throat and straightened her shoulders, regaining control of the story.
“A little. But we went our separate ways after we graduated and haven’t spoken much in years before now.
” She zeroed in on me, evidently done sharing.
“Now, Dekker, why were you wrapping a scarf around your head and wearing sunglasses indoors at the squad Christmas party? It was Lex’s engagement party, too, yet you ducked out ten minutes into it. ”
I had so many questions for her. Why did it fizzle out?
Who did the fizzling? Did that mean her feelings had fizzled out, too?
Because by the looks of the two of them together, I didn’t think anything was completely fizzled.
And if she still had feelings for McBride, what was stopping her from pursuing them?
They were both single as far as I knew between our girls’ night discussions and hearing Lex lament the same thing.
But those would have to wait for another time. Now, I had to share my sad tale of woe. “I didn’t realize that someone at the party was going to be there, and I kind of ruined his life and he hates my guts.”
Wrapping my scarf around my head and wearing sunglasses inside the event room at the bowling alley to disguise myself in front of Max hadn’t been my finest moment.
But, considering the situations he’d seen me in since, it really wasn’t that bad.
Trying to see had been a nightmare, but thankfully Lex and Colt were the main event, and I could just blend into the background.
Until Max had started making his way over toward where I sat talking with another agent’s wife.
At that point, I excused myself for the rest of the party.
And maybe I ran into a chair on my way out since I couldn’t see well. I’ll never say.
I took a deep breath and let the memories that had been tormenting me for the past year play uninterrupted behind my eyes.