Hunter closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Which one?”
“The good-looking one,” a familiar male voice said in the distance, and Hunter could almost hear Wade’s smug-ass grin. “And before yougo asking me whatIhave on beneathmyoutfit, you should know you’re on speakerphone.”
Ah, Christ.
Wade might be four years younger and wear loafers and a suit to bed, but once he grabbed hold of a story, he was like a toddler with a Binky—a good thing, since he made his living ferreting out potential problems. Tonight, however, the only problem Wade was supposed to solve was how Hunter was going to get two adults and a full-size dog to the symphony. Which was why Hunter had asked to trade his pickup truck for Wade’s sedan.
“I told you to call when you were on your way.”
“I did call. Three times,” Wade said. “Then I was afraid I was beginning to sound desperate.”
Hunter looked at his phone and, yup, three missed calls. “So you arrive an hour early? Don’t you know it’s rude to show up on a lady’s doorstep unannounced?”
“What I know is a lady this beautiful deserves to arrive before the second act starts. And since the address you gave me is on the wrong side of a ten-car pileup, and I have supper at six thirty, I decided to be proactive and have a car service meet me here. That way you get the car, and I keep everything moving smooth and easy.”
“They have a pill for that.”
“For being considerate?”
“No, for confusing on time with uptight.”
“And yet I’m the one sharing a drink with the pretty lady.”
Wade had a point. Hunter glanced out the front window of the bar, toward the east side of town. A steady drizzle had already turned the streets slick, and he could see a solid line of red lights in the distance. “Where’s the accident?”
“That would be between yourmantini and here,” Wade said.
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Brody told you?”
“Cash posted a picture on Instagram. It shows you in one of those white undershirts you are always mistaking for outerwear, sipping from a dainty glass.”
“It already has twenty thousand likes,” Mackenzie added, ever so sweetly.
“The little ‘Nothing says celebration like a Big Daddy’smantini’ talk bubble over your head really makes the meme,” Wade pointed out. “In fact, people are lining up to throw back a celebratory tini with the famous front man of the Hunter Kane Band.”
Hunter looked around the bar and swore. It had gone to standing room only thanks to a sea of fans toting pink drinks and album covers. He looked at his watch and swore again.
He was going to kill Cash. Slowly and painfully.
There was zero chance of his going across town to pick up Mackenzie and arriving back in time for the show. Which meant that Wade was right.
Closing his eyes, he said, “Mackenzie, I am so sorry. I don’t think I have time to get to you and then get us back on this side of the city with traffic.”
“That’s okay,” she said, but he could hear the disappointment in her voice. “We can go another time.”
Hell no. Tonight was a big step for Mackenzie in proving her independence. And a big night for Hunter to prove their lives could work together. He just wasn’t sure who he was so set on convincing anymore.
“I’m not canceling. We are switching gears, which is why I always have a plan B.” Then to Wade, he said, “How long would it take to get Mackenzie to Schermerhorn Symphony Center?”
“If I avoid Vanderbilt, probably a half an hour. Maybe a little less. But I have dinner plans at six-thirty.”
“Tell her you have a meeting with your boss and will be a little late,” Hunter said. “That always works.”
“Not when you’re meeting with your boss.”
“Shit.”
“Seriously, it’s not a big deal,” Mackenzie said quietly, so much understanding in her tone it broke Hunter’s heart.
