My brother sputters. “No. But I own multiple boats. Planes have to come down sometime.”
“Sure, but you’re way too friendly.” Her lips twist as she gives a dismissive wave. “You’d invite everybody on. We’d run out of resources. Zombie apocalypses require ruthlessness.”
“This conversation is ridiculous.” Jonathan sneers.
“Then go somewhere else, guy who would immediately die whilewaiting for his driver to pull his car around, not realizing his chauffeur has already fled because he couldn’t care less about the paltry paycheck you give him when currency has shifted from dollars to canned goods.” Darla gets all that out in one breath without sounding winded. She narrows her eyes at the BnB clone. “Do you even know how to use a can opener?”
From the way Jonathan’s face flushes purple, my guess would be no. But whatever his retort might be is cut off by the sudden, frantic appearance of Tasha.
“Gotta steal this one,” she chirps, her voice high-pitched as she grasps Shawn’s arm and tows him away. “You three come along, too.” She waves toward Darla, George, and me.
“Thank fuck,” Darla mutters.
Curious, I follow, George at my side, his hand against my lower back.
When we’re away from the group, Tasha drops my brother’s arm and wrings her hands.
“Shawn. Hey—shit—I’m sorry. I swear, I didn’t invite her.”
My brother tilts his head, obviously confused, but my gut drops as I make an educated guess.
“She came as a plus-one,” Tasha adds.
He shakes his head, still not understanding. “Who?”
Tasha chews her lip. “Tiffany.”
Fucking Tiffany.
Darla frowns. Even more than she already was. I gave her the basics a while ago. She knows Shawn was engaged and that he found out the woman was using him for his money, so he called it off.
“Oh.” Shawn clears his throat, then he offers Tasha a soft smile. “It’s okay. I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
“But—”
He wraps his arms around his friend in a firm hug that she relaxesinto. “This night is about you and Annabel. Tiffany and I were bound to run into each other at some point. But it’s not going to be a thing. Enjoy yourselves.”
Darla slips in close to me. “Point out Tiffany when you see her,” she says so low only I can hear.
“Why?” I whisper back.
Her ruthless gaze scans the room. “Because I don’t like to be blindsided by my enemies.”
Well, that’s a position to take.
But I follow her lead, searching the crowd until I spot a familiar figure who also appears to be on the hunt for someone.
“Gold lace dress, ombré hair in waves past her shoulders, nude heels, spray tan, to the left of the ice sculpture.”
Darla’s eyes lock on the woman who was almost my sister-in-law. My friend’s jaw tightens, and she gives a small, sharp nod.
As if sensing the weight of gazes, Tiffany turns her attention our way, and her stare fastens on my brother. Shawn hasn’t noticed yet, but his ex arrows straight toward us.
“You,” Darla snaps at Shawn, stepping away from me and up to him. “Eyes on me.”
“Always,” he breathes out the single word with devotion.
Darla pauses, then shakes her head, dismissing his smitten comment.
