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“That’s bullshit!” Sophie said with a terrible southern drawl. “She’s lyin’.”
“Then give TJ your phone. Open your Ring doorbell app and let TJ watch the footage of Ronnie coming and going when he’s teaching school. The whole town knows it’s been going on.”
“Who the hell are you?” she said, her feigned accent almost sounding Scottish. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I care about TJ and don’t want to see him end up trapped in a bad marriage.”
“You make it seem so easy,” Sophie said, looking like she was impressed. “When you do it, I feel like everything’s going to be okay.”
“That’s because it will,” I reassured her, trying not to think about the way TJ had described his fiancée.Angry, feisty, firecracker, volatile.“I’ll make sure of it.”
“Good,” she said, still sounding nervous. “Thank you.”
“Are you a good drinker?”
“Pardon?”
“Can you function with a buzz?”
“Hell, yes, I can,” she said, sounding downright cocky. “Why?”
“Because you’re going to reach into the back seat, grab the bottle of Jack out of the Target bag, and do a shot. Maybe two.” I glanced over, and she didn’t look like she had a problem with that. “It takes the edge off so you’re not so tense.”
“Is that what you did for my wedding?” she asked as she reached into the back seat and pulled out the plastic grocery bag. I could see her in my peripheral vision, and I was mildly surprised by how casually she took out the bottle, uncapped it, and lifted it to her lips. “A couple pregame shots?”
“Nah,” I said, thinking back to that cold winter day. “As soon as I heard your fiancé’s name was Stuart, I knew I was good.”
I glanced over as she tipped back the bottle and took a swig.
All I saw were her red, red lips.
nine
Sophie
I can dothis, I can do this, I can do this.
I walked into the chapel with Max at my side, and my heart felt like it was going to pound out of my chest as I looked at all the attendees already seated. A woman with a fiddle was playing “Safe and Sound,” and as we sat down on a pew toward the back, I couldn’t believe someone would choose to have a song fromThe Hunger Gamesplayed at their wedding.
I wasn’t a big believer in curses or fate, but it still seemed like bad mojo.
Holy shit, I was the bad mojo incarnate, wasn’t I?
“Deep breath,” Max whispered, and his deep voice made a shiver crawl up my spine. “This is no big deal. You’re just saving a life, Steinbeck.”
I turned my head—God, he had great eyes—and quietly said, “Thank you.”
I could see TJ, who looked like a really nice guy, sweating at the front of the church as he stood there with his cowboy-hatted groomsmen behind him. They looked like something from a Garth Brooks video, and if I weren’t so close to anxiety-induced puking I’d want to laugh at their outfits.
Jeans, black chambray shirts, and black hats, juxtaposed behind TJ, who was wearing black jeans, a white chambray shirt,and the requisite white cowboy hat. Real heavy-handed with the good guy versus bad guy theme, but who was I to judge when I’d thought fur muffs—because Christmas—were a cool accessory for bridesmaids at my own botched wedding.
The fiddler ditched the melancholy song and switched to what sounded like “It’s Your Love” by Faith Hill and Tim McGraw as the church doors opened and the bridesmaids started down the aisle.
I seriously wondered if I were going to vomit.
Satin camouflage sundresses, cowboy boots, and bejeweled denim jackets were something I’d never seen at a wedding before, but the daisy bouquets the bridesmaids carried were lovely. I felt tiny beads of sweat form on my nose, and I wondered if it was hot in there or if it was me.
Of fucking course it was me!
