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“But I can find it for you if you give me her address and, like, thirty seconds.”
“Why do you need her address?”
“Because property taxes are public record, and her name will be in the Tennessee database for them.”
I rub at my forehead, feeling stupid for not thinking of public records.
“I can hear that sigh all the way to Phoenix, buddy. You’re not a PI, so how would you have known to check public records?”
“Good point.”
“Yeah. Once you give me the address and I get your lady friend’s name, I have some news for you.”
I tell him the address and wait while he clacks away on his keyboard.
“Okay. I sent you a screenshot of the information you need. You ready for my news?”
The urge to hang up on him and check my phone is overwhelming, but then I remember that this is one of the few times that we’ve actually talked on the phone, and he sounds excited about whatever he’s ready to tell me.
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I’m getting married.”
I nearly drop the phone in shock, not sure that I heard him right.
“Married?”
“Yeah. I started seeing Meadow last year, remember?”
“Yeah. I remember.” We reconnected shortly after they moved in together.
“I asked her to marry me, and she said yes.”
“Dibs on your bachelor party.”
“Sure. That sounds good. I wanted to see if you’d be a groomsman. Gabe’s going to be my best man, and I need one more to round out the wedding party.
Touched that he’d ask me even though we don’t talk all that often, a lump in my throat steals the answer for a moment. “I’d love to.”
“Okay, when I have more details, I’ll send them your way. I’m assuming that you’ll have a plus-one for the event?”
“If I have anything to say about it I will.”
“Okay, man. I’ll talk to you later. Let me know how it goes with your lady friend.”
“Will do.” I disconnect the call and open my messages to see a screenshot of the county recorder’s website.
“Callista Snow,” I murmur the name. It suits her. It’s classy and strong. Beats me why she doesn’t use it.
“I’ve got you now, Imp.”
Now I just need to figure out how to get her to sit still long enough for me to talk some sense into her.
CHAPTER 14
Chip
Nothing good ever comes from the bottom of a bottle of tequila. Even when you’re drinking with friends.
