“None taken,” Dylan said, jotting something on a scrap of paper.
Tyler turned to Joe. “I was wondering if you’d officiate?”
Joe blinked, then smiled, eyes going glassy. “I’d love to,” he said, voice thick. “It would mean the world to me.”
The following Thursday, Tyler and Allie checked into the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. The Oh Claires’ showcase was later that evening, and their meetings weren’t until the next day, so they threw on bathing suits and headed to the Tropicana pool.
They scored two lounge chairs side by side—no towels on them, the universal sign they were fair game.
“My phone’s blowing up,” Allie said, squinting at the screen.
“Just turn it off.” Tyler pulled down the brim of her floppy hat. “The guest list is full.”
“I don’t know how this happened.” Allie held up her phone, but the glare made it unreadable. “I mean, I knew they were good, but this is unprecedented.”
“People in LA love to gossip,” Tyler said. “Plus, the ASCAP folks know everyone, and—”
“Hey!” a voice called from across the pool.
They sat up, shielding their eyes.
“Kim? Oh my god—what are you doing here?” Tyler asked, stunned.
“Jesus, it’s hot as balls out here,” Kim said, lifting her sunglasses. “Cary insisted. I hopped the first flight out of Branson.”
“You were in Branson?” Allie asked. “You should’ve gone to the Titanic museum.”
“Dude, I’ve never even seen that movie.” Tyler and Allie exchanged a look over their sunglasses. “And that song? Awful.”
Kim dropped onto Tyler’s lounge chair. “I figured we could squeeze in some girl time before you get married and shit.”
“Do you have a date?” Allie asked, thumbs tapping away.
Tyler shook her head instead of lying outright. “Are you coming to our Canada Day party?”
“Fuck yes,” Allie said, and Kim nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it.”
Kim took a sip from her Klean Kanteen. “Are you changing your name?”
Tyler sighed. “I always wanted to be Mrs. Cary Kingston, but then it feels like I’m becoming his wife instead of him becoming my husband, you know? So probably not.”
Kim lowered her sunglasses. “I’d fucking never, dude.”
“You’re anti-marriage,” Tyler reminded her.
“Same,” Allie said. “And hyphenating? My last name’s too long. It’d be a mouthful.”
Tyler stretched out and applied sunscreen to her stomach. “Do you think the baby knows it’s hot out here? I swear this cream is soaking into his eyes. It’s weird to think I might have a dick growing inside me.”
“I wish I had a dick inside me,” Allie said.
They burst out laughing as a few older guests shot them dirty looks.
Mind your own business.
“You won’t even go on a date,” Kim said to Allie.
Tyler snorted. “Like you should talk. We both took extended dick vacations before Cary and Vegas.” She turned to Allie. “What are you looking for, anyway? I know some nice guys in Winnipeg. Mostly divorced but not too damaged.”
