She looks at me like I’m cracked. “Of the birds, obviously.”
“Obviously.” I tap the paper in her hands. “Oakwood’s event coordinator is on site tonight, but my friends Birdy and Sebastian are the ones who’ll work with you and the band on musical cues for each release as we build toward the grand finale.”
More accurately, we’ll be building toward a chaotic conclusion that I hope breaks Howard once and for all, but Helene doesn’t need to know that.
“Okey-doke.” Helene tucks the paper into her breast pocket. “I don’t know about this Sebastian, but I’m happy to work with Birdy.”
I laugh despite my nerves about the eight thousand things that could go wrong tonight. “She’ll want to talk to you about ostriches, I’m sure.”
After extracting a promise that Helene will call me if she hits any snags, I pivot to my next step: having a little chat with my so-called friends.
I stalk across the employee parking lot, yank open the door of the stakeout vehicle, and am greeted with two suspiciously innocent smiles.
“Seriously?” I duck my head as I step into the back. “You rented a windowless van?”
“Uh, yeah,” my brother replies. “Do you want your boss peeping through windows and catching us?”
My only answer is a flat glare as I drop onto the bench seat that runs along one wall.
“What’s got you looking shell-shocked?” Hollis asks.
“I think you know.” I look from him to his girlfriend. “I think you both are very aware of why I look like I just got hit by a cement truck.”
A cement truck with a great ass and murder in her eyes, but a cement truck nonetheless.
Sure enough, Hollis and Liv exchange busted! looks before dropping onto the bench opposite mine and bursting into laughter.
“So you and CJ finally crossed paths.“ Liv presses her folded hands to her lips. “I cannot tell you how much we’ve been looking forward to this.”
I’m too pissed to string together coherent words. “How long…? When…? Did it not occur to anyone that?—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Hollis says. “We’ve known for months that you were both planning to sabotage the same man at the same party. And it occurred to us a number of times to let you each know what the other one had planned, but no, we did not intervene.”
“In fact,” Liv says with a sweet smile, “we went out of our way to make sure your plans wouldn’t interfere with one another. Why do you think I told you that the catering angle was too complicated, then warned CJ away from music and entertainment?” She waves her hands like a magician. “Voilà! We’ve been helpful.”
I absorb their betrayal and ask the only question I can. “Why?”
They share another glance in that secret language couples have. And don’t get me wrong; I’m thrilled that Holly found a woman he’s crazy about and grew into the steady, responsible guy I always knew he could be. But a tiny little part of me resents this unified front they share when deep down, I know that never once, not for a second, did I have this kind of effortless understanding with the woman I almost married.
“Well,” Liv says, “there are a number of reasons.”
“For one thing, it amused us,” Hollis says.
“Yes, there’s that.“ She kisses his cheek, then wipes away the lipstick smear it leaves behind. “But mostly it’s because neither of you would spill what went down between you two, and we wanted to punish you.”
“Who? Me and CJ?” Even saying her name alongside mine makes me feel prickly all over.
“Yeah, dude. I had no idea you had beef with anybody in town, let alone Liv’s ride or die. And both of you refuse to share a single detail about what you did to her.”
My guilt over keeping Hollis out of the loop on my personal life is short-lived. “What I did to her? What about what she did to me?”
“And what was that?” Liv asks, her eyes dancing with laughter.
I ignore her and dig my fingers in my hair, tugging at the roots in frustration. “And Gabe and Darby—they know about all of this too?”
“Oh yeah,” Hollis says. “Our resident landscaper had to procure a pear tree for you and a bunch of durian fruit for CJ.”
“You’re also a landscaper, in case you forgot.” I’m so used to reminding him that he’s now the co-owner of a small business with our childhood best friend that the correction comes out automatically. “And what the hell’s a durian fruit?”
