Alex is herding Chelsea and Savannah into the backseat of his car as the silver Honda pulls up and I note that the license plate matches.
“Kate?” he asks, and either he’s my driver or he’s a clairvoyant serial killer.
I’m going to go with driver. “That’s me,” I say, sliding into the backseat.
“Cherry Hill Lane?” he says and I squint again.
I could just drop by…I mean, I’m not going to want to leave the house when I get back home tonight. There’s no way I can go to Avalon. I’ll just go, say hi, make sure his brother is okay, and then I’ll leave. It’s not a big deal. I mean, we had breakfast together, we’re friends, kinda.
“Actually, how far away is Carlson's Marina and Bar?”
Jo searches and I squint at his phone, seeing it’s basically the same distance to my house, about ten minutes.
“Let’s go there instead.”
“You sure?” he checks in.
“Yeah I’m sure.”
What’s the worst that could happen?
Jo dropsme off at Carlson’s Bar and Marina; it’s only two on a Friday, but the place is still pretty busy. As soon as I shut the car door, Jo was off, not even giving me a second glance. Maybe I chatted too much in the backseat, whatever.
I tug my dress down my thighs and pull out my phone and fix my makeup really quick before walking into the bar.
A quick look around and I don’t see him anywhere, so I decide to sit at the bar and grab another cocktail, probably not my best decision.
When the bartender comes back with my drink, I lean forward.
“Hey, is the owner in today?”
“Which one?” he asks. He’s cute but far too young for my tastes.
“Ben,” I say easily.
“Yeah, I think so,” he says nothing else, and I find that annoyingly unhelpful.
So I sip my drink. I sip and I wait.
The longer I sit here, the more pathetic I feel. What the actual hell am I doing? Coming to the place he works, like a stalker, to see what’s going on with his life.
Big decisions such as these should not be made after drag show brunch. I leave the bartender a large tip, grab my clutch, and walk on wobbly legs out of the bar. The sun is still too damn harsh even as we trickle into the evening hours.
I’m stumbling over the sidewalk as I try to order a new ride, and I see Ben walking toward me. No wait, I see two Bens walking toward me.
My brother in Christ, how much did I drink?
“Kate?” his rich voice asks and I blink a few times, trying to combine the two Bens into one. It doesn’t work, cause one is wearing light blue, and the other is wearing white.
Not to mention the other one has a heavily bruised cheek and a soft cast on his wrist.
“There are two of you, right?” I ask, pointing between the two of them and hold up my hand in front of my face. Only one hand. “I’m not seeing double am I?”
“Shit. Kate. We didn’t want you to find out like this,” one of them says.
I blink rapidly, holding my hand over my eyes to block the sun and really get a good look at the two of them.
“Find out what? This is your brother who was in the accident. I came to see how he was and that you were alright,” I say easily and watch both of their faces fall.
