Chapter 13
The main bar at What Ales You feels like a confession booth made of polished wood and brass fixtures, with warm amber lighting that makes everything look golden and intimate despite the rock music still pounding from the main dining area.
The siren song of French fries and grilled burgers lights up my senses as I sidle up to the empty stool next to Piers, who’s nursing what appears to be his third beer while staring at the rows of bottles behind the bar like they hold the secrets to the universe.
The bartender, a burly guy with a graying beard, nods at me as I settle in.
“Bizzy?” Piers looks genuinely delighted to see me, though his expression shifts to puzzled concern. “Are you here looking for Jasper? Is everything okay?”
“Yes, actually, on both counts,” I say, then realize I need a believable reason for tracking him down that doesn’t involve interrogation techniques.
My brain scrambles for a moment before landing on something that sounds appropriately domestic.
“I came to tell him that Ella said Dada tonight. Her first real word! Well, directed at her actual father anyway. She’s with my father and Jasper’s mother right now, completely knocked out from her sugar adventure this afternoon. ”
I’m sure there’s a special place downstairs for mothers who lie about babies saying Dada for the very first time, but I choose not to dwell on that right now.
Piers’s face lights up with genuine warmth. “That’s amazing! I’m sure Jasper will be over the moon. First words are a pretty big deal.”
“He’ll probably keep her up all night until she says it again.” I laugh. “But while I have you here, I wanted to say I’m so sorry about your loss and everything that’s happened. How are you holding up with all this wedding chaos on top of... well, you know.”
His expression grows serious, and he takes a long sip of his beer before answering.
“It’s been surreal, honestly. One minute we’re planning the happiest day of our lives, the next minute there’s police tape and questions and.
..” He shakes his head. “Poor Tessa. She didn’t deserve any of this.
Charlotte keeps asking if we should postpone, but all those deposits are already paid.
Bea can handle the financial hit if we cancel, but we’re almost at the finish line.
” He takes another swig of beer. “Besides, it’s not like Tessa was some innocent victim.
The woman had a talent for making enemies. ”
I gasp a little when he says it. I guess beer really does make the truth flow more freely. Note to self: ply all suspects with liquor.
“Did you notice anything strange about Tessa lately? Anyone she might have been having problems with? I mean, you did say she had a talent for making enemies.”
His gaze shifts to the poolroom for a moment.
“Conrad was making things pretty awkward for her. I saw the two of them having what looked like a pretty heated conversation behind the catering tent the night…well, the night it happened. And honestly? I think he was trying to hook up with her. The guy has zero boundaries when it comes to women.”
“You don’t say.” I try to keep my voice casual despite the fact that I’m well aware of Conrad’s playboy ways. I think we all are at this point.
“I hate to speak ill of my best man, but Conrad’s track record with women is problematic at best. He sees a pretty face and suddenly develops selective hearing when it comes to the word no.”
Thank goodness Charlotte seems immune to his charm, he thinks bitterly.
Though that hasn’t stopped the snake from trying.
I’ve watched him undress her with his eyes all week.
Some best friend. Maybe it’s time Conrad learned what happens when you cross certain lines.
He lifts his beer and stares angrily at the wall ahead. Mess around and find out, buddy.
“Anyone else who might have had a falling-out with Tessa?”
Piers winces and glances around to make sure no one is listening.
“I hate to say it, but Bea—Charlotte’s mother—had some kind of beef with the poor woman.
It was probably nothing, just wedding stress, but it felt so visceral and I couldn’t figure out why.
Bea’s usually so composed, you know? But every time Tessa’s name came up, she got this look on her face like she’d tasted something sour.
” A dry laugh bounces through his chest. “Between my psycho ex-girlfriend showing up to the wedding and my future mother-in-law acting like she wanted to murder the wedding planner, I didn’t have much control over anything this week.
Maybe I should have just eloped in Vegas.
It would have saved me a hell of a lot of trouble—at least in the interim. ”
“Wedding planning can bring out the worst in people,” I agree sympathetically. “All that pressure to make everything perfect.”
“Exactly. And Tessa was just trying to do her job.” Among other things, he thinks grimly before draining his beer and standing.
“I should probably get back to the guys before they start placing bets on pool games I can’t afford to lose.
” Not that I can afford much of anything these days, but they don’t need to know that.
My brows furrow at the thought.
“Of course. Thanks for chatting. I’ll go find Jasper and give him the good news about Ella’s vocabulary expansion.”
Piers heads toward the pool hall just as Conrad emerges from the group, clearly making his way toward the restrooms in the back hallway. Talk about perfect timing!
I position myself strategically near the narrow hallway that leads to the restrooms, pretending to check my phone, but then I get a better idea. I snap an abandoned beer off the counter and trot back to my post.
Conrad approaches with that confident swagger of his, and I time my accidental stumble perfectly.
“Oh no!” I gasp as my beer splashes across the front of his button-down shirt. “I’m so sorry! How clumsy of me!”
“Hey, no worries.” Conrad laughs, dabbing at his shirt with napkins from a nearby table. “It gives me an excuse to take this off.” He winks as he says it.
Eww. Just eww.
“Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?” I offer. “I feel terrible.”
“I’ll never say no to a beautiful woman trying to liquor me up,” he says with what I assume he thinks is a charming smile.
Double eww with a side of nausea.
“I have to ask,” I say as we head back toward the bar, “how are you dealing with everything that’s happened? This whole situation with Tessa must be so difficult for the wedding party.”
I replace the beer I’m holding where I found it, and three seconds later, a man who’s dressed like a lumberjack takes a seat and scoops it up.
Oops. Apparently, I’ve been carrying around someone’s active beverage this whole time. Note to self: abandoned drinks aren’t always actually abandoned. Nevertheless, it made a darn good sidekick.
Conrad’s expression grows more serious, but that predatory charm of his is still very much present. “It’s been tough on everyone, especially Charlotte. She’s trying to hold it together, but you can see the stress eating at her.”
“Did you know Tessa well?”
“Well enough.” He shrugs. “She seemed competent, but honestly? I think Bea had some serious issues with her. I overheard them having what sounded like a pretty intense argument the day before the rehearsal dinner. Bea was practically spitting fire.”
“Really? About what?” This matches up to what Piers said—and what I saw.
“No idea, but Bea looked ready to commit murder. No pun intended. Although I’ll admit, given what happened...” He trails off as the bartender drops off a beer for him and Conrad slips him a twenty.
“That was supposed to be my treat,” I tell him.
“Please, I’m a gentleman. Besides, I never let a beautiful woman pay when I’m trying to impress her.”
We share a laugh, and before I can ask follow-up questions, a loud chanting erupts from the main dining area. “SHOTS! SHOTS! SHOTS!”
We both turn to see what appears to be Georgie surrounded by a group of college-aged guys, lined up at the bar with what looks like an entire artillery of shot glasses.
“Oh my word,” I breathe, watching in horror as Georgie throws back shot after shot while the crowd cheers her on.
Mom comes running over, her face flushed with panic and embarrassment. “I tried to stop them!” she gasps. “One minute she was talking to some nice young men about craft beer, the next minute they were challenging her to a drinking contest!”
“DANCE ON THE BAR!” someone shouts from the crowd.
“DANCE ON THE BAR! DANCE ON THE BAR!”
Georgie wastes no time climbing onto the counter and gyrating her hips to the rock music while the entire brewery cheers her on.
“Should we intervene?” Conrad asks, looking equal parts horrified and impressed.
“I’m afraid to find out what will happen if we try,” I admit.
Georgie takes a theatrical bow, then attempts what appears to be a trust fall into the crowd of college boys.
A couple of ear-piercing screams go off—those would be coming from Mom and me—and they catch her and start bouncing her in the air, over and over, until her foot catches on one of the low-hanging steel light fixtures.
And soon enough, she’s swinging from the chandelier—albeit upside down.
“HELP!” Georgie shrieks while the crowd below scrambles to get her down.
Every man in the pool hall comes running, including Jasper, who takes one look at the situation and covers his face with his hands.
“I’m too old for this,” I hear him mutter.
Conrad, to his credit, immediately springs into action, climbing onto the bar and carefully untangles Georgie’s foot from the fixture before helping her down to safety.
“My hero!” Georgie shouts while throwing her arms around Conrad’s neck and giving him a smack right on the lips. And if I’m not mistaken, I think he’s kissing her back.
It looks like my little scheme worked, she thinks while giving a thumbs-up in my direction. Wait till you see what I have planned to lure him into my bedroom.
Now that is something I don’t want any part of.
One thing is for certain—Georgie Conner always gets her man.
And honestly?
So do I.