“Tomorrow,” she said. Maybe she’d locate a few extrabrain cells by then.
Jules slid the ruler over her fingers like a bow on a violin. “You busy tonight?”
She hadn’t been out with Jules since karaoke. “Class. Maybe tomorrow?” She was supposed to hang out with Kaci while Lance was gone TDY, but she could cancel.
Jules dropped the ruler into Anna’s in-basket. “No trivia at Taps tomorrow.”
Anna moved the ruler back into place. “We could go somewhere else.”
“Afraid of karaoke night?”
Sensitive subject, meet land mine. “We can do whatever you guys want.”
“Never mind. I get it. We’re not as cool as your post-divorce friends.” Jules stood. Her pantsuit hung limp and her cheeks seemed extra hollow.
ButHow are you doingwasn’t a question Jules took kindly to. Anna ignored the barb. “Have you heard how Brad’s interview went this morning?”
“He skipped it.” She leaned into the desk and plucked a pen out of the pen holder, then dropped it back in with aplink.
“He did?” Anna eyed Jules, but her friend focused on the pen.Plink. Plink. Plink.“Did he say why?”
Plink. Plink.“Apparently their corporate office in Virginia installed some fancy glass that birds can’t see. He found pictures on the Internet of all these dead birds on the sidewalk around the building, and he says he won’t work for bird killers.”
“Oh.”
“Trivia runs until nine or so if you get out of class early.”
“I’ll cross my fingers.”
But two hours later, when the email arrived announcing class was cancelled, Anna bit back a curse. If Jules hadn’t made a point of inviting her to trivia, she would’ve texted Jackson to see if he was up for something more than coffee. After three coffee dates in the last two weeks, it was obvious he wasletting her call the shots.
And she liked that.
A lot.
But aside from one awkward lunch shortly after Rodney died, she hadn’t seen Brad since the last karaoke night. And they’d been good friends before Neil left. So that evening, when she would’ve headed to class, she pulled into the Taps parking lot instead.
Inside, she found Jules and Brad sitting with two of Brad’s old friends at a table littered with peanut shells in the middle of the loud, crowded bar. Jules was wearing a strained smile, and Brad was deep into a heated debate with the beefier of the two guys. Mitch, if Anna remembered right. And the guy with the receding hairline was Cookie. He probably had a real name, but she had never heard it. She snagged the chair next to Jules. “Hey.”
Jules lifted a sardonic eyebrow. “Didn’t think you’d make it.”
“Going to bed an hour ago was tempting.” She smiled at Cookie and nodded to Brad and Mitch. “You guys order yet? Or are more people coming?”
Jules slid her a menu. “Just us. The waitress is slacking tonight. You’ve got time.”
“Hope she’s not counting on a good tip,” Brad said.
Julesshush-ed him. He rolled his eyes like Anna used to at her mother, then settled his attention on Anna. “How’s school? You smart yet?”
“Getting there.”
Brad grunted. He spun his silverware in circles. His knee bounced under the table. Jules snatched the silverware away. He glared at her, then turned back to Mitch. “Purdue’s new quarterback is a pussy. They’re fucking losing everything this year.”
Their waitress, a bubbly college-aged girl, slid up to the table. “Hey, folks! Thanks for waiting. I’m?—”
“Slow.” Brad glared at her. His cheeks were puffier thanthey’d been the last time Anna saw him, and the buttons on his shirt strained. “We need another pitcher. And some wings. Might as well bring the check now if you want us to pay before tomorrow.”
“God, Brad.” Jules pinched the bridge of her nose.
