“You need to talk with her,” Ian said.
I was relieved Ian saved the moment.
“Ian’s right,” I agreed. “Staying silent solves nothing.”
“And what if?—”
“What ifs will kill you, mate,” Ian said. “Talk with her and be done with it.”
“That’s just what I fear will happen if I talk with her… we’ll be done.” He looked at me, his eyes begging. “Could you please talk with her before I do and give me a heads up?”
“If it were the other way around, would you want me to do that? Talk with you, then betray your trust?” Ian asked.
I really loved my guy, saving me that way.
Beau’s head dropped as he shook it. “Sorry, Pep.”
I really felt terrible for him. Relationships could be the pits at times, but like Ian, I couldn’t betray my friend’s trust. But, of course, I got an idea.
“I can’t betray Amy’s trust, but I can talk to Thomas and see what he and his girlfriend are up to?”
I didn’t tell him that I hoped their relationship was done since I had an extreme dislike for Lola.
Beau once again buoyed. “That would be great, Pep. I’d really appreciate it.”
“No promises, but I’ll do my best.”
“That’s good enough for me,” he said. “How about a round of drinks? I could really use something stronger than iced tea. And you can tell me about this bank heist I heard you were caught up in.”
“I could go white wine,” I said.
“Beer for me,” Beau chimed in.
“And for me,” Ian said and signaled the server.
Over an hour later we parted ways with Beau in the parking lot, looking a lot happier than when he joined us at the table.
“I need to talk with Amy,” I said, once in Ian’s SUV.
“I don’t need to know,” Ian said.
“Or you’ll tell Beau?” I asked with a chuckle.
“I can’t stand to see him suffer,” was the excuse Ian gave.
“Then it looks like I’m on my own when it comes to this mystery,” I challenged.
“You had to put it that way, didn’t you?” he said, shaking his head. “They cannae break up. They are made for each other. And think how awkward it would be for us if they did? Nay, this needs to be solved quickly.”
His Scottish brogue always got a bit stronger when he grew concerned or turned playful with me. But this was strictly concern.
We barely pulled out on the road when a police vehicle pulled us over.
I groaned when I saw it was my brother Josh approaching the SUV.
Ian rolled his window down.
I released my seatbelt, leaned forward, and tilted my head when he stopped at the window, and demanded, “What’s going on, Josh?”
