“You guys owe me,” he said to his traitorous friends. “Better keep my glass full over there, you hear?” When he rose, the entire bar erupted in applause and cheers. “And the rest of you better get me your year-end projections,” he announced to the room at large. “Tomorrow.”
Half the people in the room groaned, and he laughed as he sank into the chair that had been vacated by Jake’s dad. “All right ladies,” he said, grinning at his new team. “We’re going to kick some butt.”
And they did. With Trivia King Ben’s help, the Tuesday Ladies team handily won the first round onStar Wars, capping off a ten for ten score because Ben knew that Chewbacca had died when a moon fell on him in the Extended Universe novels.
The second round’s topic, which was the 1970s, was obviously a piece of cake for Maxine, Orbra, Iva, and Juanita.
By that time, Ben’s former teammates were begging him to come back to their table.
“If you help them win, we’llneverget rid of them,” hissed Baxter from his seat. “They’ll be here every Tuesday.”
“Oh well,” Ben replied with a shrug. He’d been enjoying the company of the ladies—and the beer he kept reordering on Baxter’s and Declan’s tabs. “I like to be on the winning team.”
“Now, Ben,” said Iva Bergstrom, patting his hand during the break between rounds two and three, “I just want to tell you how nice it was for your family to let the wedding go on over at the clock tower. Considering all the history.”
He lowered his beer and looked at her. “The wedding? At the clock tower?”
Since that strange and awkward morning over a week ago when he’d awakened with Callie tucked up against him and her hand cupping his crotch, he’d tried hard not to think too much about her.
He’d dismissed the sliver of hope that maybe by her canceling the wedding somehow it might end up being a permanent cancellation. Which wasn’t very nice of him and he knew it, which was why he didn’t let himself give it more than a passing thought…at least, not more than once a day.
Instead, he congratulated himself on being the perfect gentleman during their unexpected sleepover. And he’d tried to think about how sad and disappointed Callie must be feeling about having to cancel her wedding.
He had one sister, but that was enough for him to be very clear on how important weddings were for most women. And based on the way she’d waxed rhapsodic about glittery white tree forests and hurricanes and ecru lace (whatever ecru was), he suspected Callie was definitely one of those women who put a lot of importance on her wedding.
“Yes, dear. Oh, maybe you’ve been too busy doing everyone’s taxes to pay attention to it,” said Iva with a little laugh. Her blue eyes sparkled and her cheeks flushed little pink.
“I thought—I thought Callie had canceled the wedding,” Ben said, very relieved when another beer appeared at his elbow. Apparently Kendra had taken him at his word when he said to keep them coming. “She told me she was going to cancel it.”
“Oh, she tried to. But I wouldn’t let her,” Iva said.
“No, we weren’t having any of your great-great-aunt’s Bridezilla tactics,” put in Maxine. “That Brenda is a real Bridezilla—you know, she’s like a monster when it comes to her wedding,” she said, obviously recently having learned the term. “We went over there and I set that Ghostzilla—hey, I like that word—straight.”
“Who?” Ben asked, feeling like his brain had suddenly begun to ooze from his ears.
“Brenda Tremaine’s ghost, of course,” said Juanita. “We had a séance.”
“You had what?” Ben said faintly. It was far too loud and raucous in the Roost, because he surely he hadn’t heard her correctly.
“A séance,” replied Iva. “We had a séance and spoke to Brenda—as well as our old friend Jean Fickler, who died two summers ago with the help of a murderous culprit—and Brenda told us farewell. So obviously she’s not going to interfere or curse me at my wedding. So it’s on.” She was beaming as if she’d just announced her first grandchild.
Ben was still trying to wade through the trough of astonishing information Iva Bergstrom had just dumped on him when his mind zeroed in on one phrase.
And then the world stopped. The noise and chaos in the dive bar ebbed away. He felt suddenly very, very still. “Yourwedding?”
“Why, yes,” Iva replied. Her eyes latched solemnly onto his.
“It’syourwedding? On New Year’s Eve at the tower?ThisNew Year’s Eve?”
“Yes, Ben. My wedding. To Hollis. You’ve met him before, haven’t you? He’s been after me for over two years to put a ring on it, and I finally…”
But Ben hadn’t heard anything after the first four words. Iva Bergstrom’s wedding.
Not Callie’s wedding?
He didn’t understand.
He just didn’t understand.
