Chapter 7
SEVEN
Well, hot damn if a lot of things didn't go wrong, right, and confusing all at once.
Benny nearly choked to death on his sweet tea.
Felicity and Marcus showed up just in time for a distraction.
Which put Jack’s ex in the same vicinity as him for the first time since she’d shit on his heart a year ago.
Feelings, a whole boatload of them, anchored right then and there between him and the land of finger foods and sun hats.
Missy Robertson was the first one to bob.
“Oh, my goodness, are you okay?” She flitted over to Benny, hand going to his back to give the illusion of help.
Benny tapped his chest and nodded, still unable to find his words.
Jack went for his other hand. Benny snaked past Jack’s attempt and grabbed a napkin instead.
Benny didn't meet his gaze.
Jack had a feeling the man wasn’t smiling like he had been before Ruby had opened her mouth.
Which would have made him feel something else.
That before smile had been unexpected.
For a moment, Benny De Carlo had looked almost happy. With their plan, their act, with him.
Who cared that they'd been in their roles for only a night and a morning?
Jack had gotten caught up in that feeling, bellini and all.
He’d been thinking that maybe… Maybe their plan wasn’t all that bad.
But then Ruby Cartwright, who once got drunk and admitted she wanted to be adopted by the Robertsons, had to piss in their Cheerios.
And then Dixon had been right.
Jack should have warned Benny about his ex. Especially since that ex was getting hitched to Benny’s once, and maybe current, true fucking love.
The devil was in the details, and all of that.
The devil outside of the details was quick to pick up on the fact something had gone even more awry than his date choking on tea.
Carol’s monster of a hat tilted a little as she surveyed the scene with a curious smile.
“Well, goodness, what did we miss?”
Ruby opened her mouth, but Jack didn’t like the idea of Benny taking another round. He stood up and held his hand out for Marcus.
“Oh, you know, just some damn good peach bellinis and some sweet tea going down the wrong tube,” he answered Carol. Then he turned to Marcus, bartender delight pulled up and ready. “Thanks for letting us crash your lunch, man.”
Marcus matched his smile as he shook.
The worst thing about Golden Boy Robertson?
He was actually a decent guy. Jack hated to admit that, if he had belonged to any other family, he'd probably be buddies with the man. In all his years of working at Cassidy’s, Jack had never heard a bad thing about him.
Not a drunken admission of abuse, neglect, nastiness, or any other bad descriptions.
Just a good, solid guy who didn’t litter, didn’t judge, and didn’t mind taking time out of his day to say hello and how are you.
He’d even had the odd conversation with Jack throughout the years, even asking after Jack’s uncle when he wasn’t around.
Marcus Robertson was just fine.
But he was a red flag walking just by proxy.
And now that he was marrying Felicity?
The cards were against Jack and him rubbing elbows under normal circumstances. Decent man or not.
Marcus, inherited red flag and all, thumbed over his shoulder to his twin.
“It’s not a problem with me. I barely got in because I was late. The boss around here is a strict one.”
Carol huffed.
Then Felicity moved into view.
Everyone quieted.
Jack cleared his throat.
Felicity Fairchild had what Jack used to call a politician’s smile.
Default polite, always on in public. A mask fused with pristine makeup she applied every morning, even if she didn’t plan on leaving the house.
She had moments of comfort—of letting down her hair—but they’d always come with a sharpness.
A prickling of something. Frustration? Annoyance?
Jack had thought it was just part of her personality—some people had a prickle to them and there was nothing wrong about that—but after the breakup, he’d started to suspect that had been more to do with him than her.
Now wasn’t the time to think on it.
Felicity was all politician polite.
Her hair, the color of whiskey, was pinned back in a long, neat ponytail and the makeup around her bright green eyes went nicely with the patriotic red, white, and blue striped dress wrapped around her long body.
She must have been working out more since they'd split ways, Jack couldn’t help but note.
He could see it in her arms and, with a brief glance, her legs.
There was no denying that Felicity Fairchild was a looker. That much Jack could always say, no matter how he felt about her.
“Nice to see you again, Felicity,” he said. “Congrats on the news.”
“Thank you,” she replied, smile not slipping an inch. “It's good to see you, too.”
She settled in the seat across from Mrs. Robertson while Marcus took the seat opposite Benny. Jack, taking his own chair again, moved a little closer to Benny. The metal scraped the stone beneath them enough to earn a look—but nothing more—from his fake beau.
Jack wasn’t about to let the whole thing lie, though.
He motioned to the man, who was probably trying to mentally burrow out of the greenhouse via the ground beneath his chair, at his side.
“And I'm sure Benny here needs no introduction but, just in case, this is Benny De Carlo.”
Marcus and Felicity were fast.
“You definitely don't need an introduction,” she said. “I've been hearing your name around town for a week straight!”
“The One who Said Nothing has everyone talking,” Marcus followed up. “I think that’s poetic, right?”
Benny was regaining some of his normal coloring, but the smile he gave was a little uneven. He really didn't seem to like being the center of attention.
“I’m not sure anything about what I wrote counts as poetic but it’s definitely been an interesting experience so far.”
Carol, very much someone who liked the center, leaned in and changed the topic to something more focused on her.
“We must all sound like we're on repeat by now, I'm sure, so why don’t we give Benny here a break and talk about something more pressing?”
She scooped up an untouched mimosa, let her sun hat go free, and waved over an older man in an honest-to-God butler getup. Jack hadn't seen him before, but he appreciated the platter of food he carried. And boy howdy, he'd have to tell Dixon that there were tiny sandwiches on it.
Carol gave a little clap after she claimed her little sandwich.
“The Sailors and Mermaids Festival is officially two weekends away, and this year I’d really like it if we made it a big splash.”
“Pun intended,” Marcus added.
Benny and Felicity laughed.
Jack readjusted in his seat as Butler Man dropped two tiny sandwiches onto his plate. Another server appeared out of thin air, like an Oompa Loompa at the Wonka Chocolate Factory, and started at the other end of the table.
Carol looked unamused by her brother’s attempt at humor but couldn't get a word in before her mother jumped in. Mrs. Robertson went back to looking right at Benny.
“And not to keep you in the spotlight, shug, but we were wondering if you're going to be here for the festival…because, if so, we'd love for you two to be in the Sailors and Mermaid Pageant!”
She squealed.
Jack’s brain stuttered at the noise.
That all the time needed for Benny to royally screw them.
“The pageant?”
Arnesha, quiet as a mouse when it didn’t count, finally piped in.
“It would definitely boost exposure for the town,” she said. “We’ve never had any kind of internet fame in Arbor Bay before. It could do us some good.”
“Not to mention give your bar patrons more of a reason to stop in,” Mrs. Robertson added.
Carol swooped in with a brow full of disapproval.
“But, Mother, we're not going to force them to do what they don't want to,” she tried. “This pageant is always the highlight of the festival with or without celebrities attached. We don't need to bother them to make it exciting. Ruby and I can handle that and—”
Mrs. Robertson waved through her daughter’s thought, never taking her sights off Benny. The weakest of them all.
“You've already bared your soul to the great wide web, Benny dear, so what's a little strut on stage going to really do?”
Everyone was staring now.
Jack, for once, was rooting for Carol to say something.
She didn’t.
It was all down to Benny.
Benny turned back to Mrs. Robertson, poor smooshed tiny sandwich in hand.
And betrayed him.
“I—I can't think of a reason why we would say no.”
Arnesha gave a nod. Mrs. Robertson actually cheered.
“This is going to be great!” she exclaimed. “I bet our attendance will double and we might even get more sailors this year to participate since Mr. Knox here is everyone’s favorite bartender. Surely, your patrons will see this event is, and always has been, full of fun!”
Jack decided right then and there that all Robertson women had something about them that forced submission without lifting a finger.
Because Jack agreed with her and even offered a little more.
“I can definitely bring some more guys into the audience, if not on stage.”
Benny’s eyes widened.
Jack couldn’t believe himself either.
He was struggling to get a crowd at Cassidy’s Place as it was. That was the whole reason he had struck the deal with Benny in the first place. Now he was offering influence he didn’t have to get more guys to walk the runaway dressed up as sailors?
The Robertson women should be studied, he thought.
Luckily, Jack didn’t have to endure their drug-like sway any longer. Mrs. Robertson and Carol turned the conversation to the festival as a whole, suddenly-chatty Arnesha joining them along with a few pipe ins from Ruby and Felicity.
It was only after a few minutes that Marcus leaned over to talk directly to Jack.