For all I knew, she’d burn down the brewery.
Oh shit, was she going to burn down The Ginger Station?
I texted Nora, asking if she had a fire extinguisher, but she didn’t respond, likely because it was four in the morning.
I got up late—groggy, worried, and off-kilter—and still felt off-balance by the time I met up with Mick and Liam outside the bakery so we could get in place in time to observe Ann’s date.
“You look like shit,” Liam said, helpfully. “Nothing a gallon of coffee can’t pretend to cure.”
Mick snickered, then nodded to me. “It might help you before the show.”
I swore internally. I hadn’t forgotten we had a show, necessarily, but I had tried not to think about it too much. Just like I’d tried to ignore the Pansy issue and the texts my father kept sending me.
“Yeah, let’s get him that coffee,” Liam said to Mick, as if I were a child in their care.
Ten minutes later, after Dottie’s boyfriend gave us our drinks with a big, conspiratorial wink that might as well have put a target on our backs, we got situated at a table in the back corner of the room. Mick chose the spot, saying it would give us the best vantage point no matter where Ann and her date chose to sit.
“You’re good at this,” I commented.
“What?” Liam asked, laughing. “Stalking people? Yeah, he gets a gold star.”
Mick told him to fuck off, then turned toward Liam. “So, who’s this Ann? Is she a looker?”
Liam grinned. “What do you think, Cormac?”
In my dream version of the world, people never ask for myopinion, particularly not in very public spaces. And definitely not about my friends’ appearances.
“She’s got a nice face,” I deflected.
Mick tilted his head. “Yeah? She got a nice rack?”
“I’d prefer not to think about her that way.”
He whistled and leaned back in his chair. “If I didn’t know for sure you got a thing for your stepsister, I’d suspect you have feelings for this Ann lady.”
“Will you keep your voice down?” I hissed, not bothering to deny what was obviously true. Yes, I have it bad for my stepsister, and Idohave congenial feelings for Ann, although I am definitely not interested in dating her.
Liam and Mick slipped into a meaningless conversation, and the door cracked open just as the hour turned over.
It was Ann, accompanied by a bearded man who held the door open for her and her enormous bouquet.
I did a double take before glancing at Liam.
“It’s actually him,” I whispered.
Liam cast a glance over his shoulder to get a look at Ann’s date and then swiveled back in his seat to face us, laughing. “Well, I’ll be…”
“What’s going on?” Mick asked. “Is this about those old people?” A half second later, he clued in and reached across the table to shove Liam. “You are such a shithead.”
“Oh, get over it, Mick,” I said. “She does have a nice face. She’s a nice lady.” I was silent for a second, watching them. “A nice lady who’s apparently been in a months’ long cyber relationship with a movie star.”
A few people had gathered by the front window and were peering in, pointing at George Cronin. He was holding Ann’s hand as he led her to the front counter, where Bear Reynolds was waiting.
As I watched, Bear quickly pulled out his phone and sent off a message.
“He just told Dottie,” I guessed. A group of middle-aged women entered the shop, laughing, sneaking glances at Ann and George as they joined the line forming behind them.
“God, why did I agree to come?” Mick groaned, stretching out in his seat. “I closed the gym early to be here.”
