Earl’s expression is the picture of incredulity. “You stood her up? Boy, your brains must rattle around like a BB in a boxcar. Anyone with an IQ higher than a Louisiana tree stump would know not to leave the likes ofherhanging.”
“In my defense”—I hold up my hands—“I sent someone in my place.”
His jaw unhinges so fast I’m surprised it doesn’t hit the bar. “Well, now Iknowyou ain’t got the good sense God gave a goose.”
Maggie beams and reaches across the bar to tweak Earl’s mustache. “Thank you, Earl. My thoughts exactly.”
Before I can say more, my phone buzzes. I know who it is before I look at the screen. There are only two people in the world who text me. One of them is standing five feet away.
Luc: I’m @ the house. Where the hell are you?
Me: Maggie’s bar. Be there in 15.
Luc: Hope she’s served you a big piece of humble pie.
Me: Yum, yum.
“Speaking of my stand-in”—I push away from the bar—“that’s him. Need to get back to the house before he starts tearing down walls I don’t want torn down. The man is a menace with a sledgehammer.”
“Hey, Cash?” Maggie stops me when I turn for the door. “Tell Luc I said, ‘Thank you. Again.’”
Her voice sounds funny, and there’s something in her face that isn’t quite right. “Did something happen last night?” I ask.
“No.” She shakes her head, but for some reason I don’t believe her. Before I can question her further, she makes shooing motions toward the door. “If you’re a smart man, you might consider swinging by the flower shop again. I hope all that groveling you did for me didn’t scrape up your knees too badly. You owe Luc a nice bouquet and bit of bootlicking too.”
“Do you think he likes daisies?” I ask.
She chuckles. “On second thought, a six-pack and a day off from working on your house is probably a better way to tell him you’re sorry.”
“The beer’s easy enough. As for the day off, how about Sunday? It’s the first one of the month, and we said we’d do brunch and plan our first excursion. You still in?”
