“The what?” Jamie asked.
“He fucked the bartender. Then he ran. Only now, he has to see him when we come for Happy Hour.”
“We could switch bars,” I suggested.
“No way,” Maverick said. “It’s not our fault you fucked where you drink. Live with it.”
I glowered. “Rude.”
“Fair,” he countered.
Jamie looked confused, the poor summer child.
“You spent months lusting after that guy. Why not date him?”
“You know I don’t do that.” I rolled my eyes. “I spend enough time explaining it to Aunt Lula and Iola. I don’t want to go through this with you guys, too.”
“Are the Matchmaking Mamas still bugging you?” Maverick asked. “I figured they’d given you up as a hopeless case by now.”
I snorted. “They don’t know the meaning of the phrasegive up.”
“That’s probably true,” he said with a laugh.
My great-aunt and some of her closest friends ran a wacky matchmaking service, which mostly consisted of them harassing young people into blind dates. It was sheer luck that any of them worked out. Maverick and Damon had been neighbors and would have ended up together regardless, but Mav’s matchmaking dates had given Damon the push he needed to recognize his feelings. And they’d totally screwed the pooch with Jamie, sending him to meet a straight guy who expected to date a woman.
By some miracle, Hank had come around to loving Jamie, and the Matchmaking Mamas took credit for another success story, even though it could have been a fucking disaster.
They’d been after me to sign up for months now, and I was fighting it because someone had to stand up to them. But it was getting increasingly difficult when they kept texting me potential date profiles and giving me the numbers of random menwaiting for my call.
Jamie dipped a chip and bit into it. “Don’t you get lonely, though? I mean, there’s more to life than sex.”
“I have friends for that.”
“Friends who are coupled up now,” Jamie said.
I shifted, uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going. Yes, it was mildly annoying my friends were ga-ga for their boyfriends these days. We spent a lot less time hanging out. But I wasn’t jealous. I had plenty to keep me busy. I was the top wedding planner in the whole damn county, and I was young and hot. While they stayed homeplaying happy couple, I went out and hooked up with sexy men in Omaha.
“I’m happy for you both,” I said dismissively. “Just don’t think you’re getting out of Happy Hour every week.”
Maverick laughed. “Never. I need my margarita and bitch fix.”
“You have a lot less to bitch about now that you and Damon aren’t at war,” I said. “What’s new with you?”
“Well, I’ve got wedding season right around the corner. You might know something about that?”
I chuckled. “Yeah.”
It was early March, and we had solid wedding bookings through June. I had the Jameses slated for next weekend, with two more coming in April.
I’d get even busier in May and June, but I liked it that way.
The conversation flowed from Maverick’s flower shop to Jamie’s new venture as an official dog biscuit baker. He had joined BowWow, a doggy grooming and day care business, where his boyfriend Hank also worked.
“Oh, that reminds me,” Jamie said. “Hank and I were thinking we should all get together. You guys, Damon, and us. What do you think?”
“So I get to be the fifth wheel?” I said. “No, thanks.”
“You could bring a date.” At my irritable look, he added, “Even if it’s just for one night, right? You’re not actuallyallergicto dating, are you?”
