“Not. A. Word,” I said pointedly, the angry hornet’s nest now a dull buzz in my veins.
My smartass cousin mimed zipping her smiling pink lips and tossing a key over her shoulder.
The tension broke when a customer approached. A leafer,judging by the tall boots and the bright white sweater tied artfully around their shoulders. Larry and I—and Brady and Joan, for that matter—got back to work, and I managed to ignore the neighboring tent and its occupants for the rest of the day.
At one point just before closing up shop, Larry’s best friend, Kayla, wandered over from the direction of the parking garage. Kayla had been a classmate of ours, and we’d known her since Sunday school before that. She and my cousin had always been close. They were even neighbors, living side by side in a duplex over on Elliott Street.
Kayla was tall and gorgeous, with long blond hair and big blue eyes. She resembled the stereotypical surfer girl with sun-kissed skin and a laid-back attitude. Back in school, she’d played volleyball and been a lifeguard in the summers. She was well-liked and popular, and we’d always gotten along.
“What’s up, y’all?” Kayla said casually as she approached.
Larry made a surprised little squeak that had me glancing her way as I greeted Kayla.
Eventually, Larry formulated a passable “hello,” and I wondered vaguely what was up. Maybe they were in a fight or something.
“Did you make it home okay the other night?” Kayla asked, directing the question to my cousin. “Sasha said you were trashed.”
“Yeah, of course.” Then Larry laughed brightly, and it was so fake that I wondered if Kayla would call her on it. She knew Larry just as well as I did, after all.
There was definitely something going on.
Kayla and Sasha worked over at Magnolia, a bar on the end of Main Street that catered to tourists. Respectable locals didn’t go there, but Larry did visit occasionally when Kayla was on shift. The bar was polished to within an inch of its life, and they only served wine, craft beers, and fancy cocktails. It was the local establishment version of someone who’d gotten too big for their britches. But they made a killing during tourist season, which was growing longer and busier every year.
Hell, Grandpappy’s did the same thing. We wouldn’t survive without tourist dollars, so who was I to judge uppity Magnolia Bar?
“Did you have fun with Sebastian?” Larry asked suddenly.
Kayla laughed. “Was that his name?”
I detected an audible swallow from my side. “Uh, yeah,” Larry confirmed.
“Anyway,” Kayla said after a moment of awkward silence, “you want to grab lunch after the farmers’ market? I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
Larry was tense, but she nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. Unless you need some help loading up, Mac?”
I looked at the very few items we had left on the table. “No, I can manage. Y’all have fun.”
Kayla told Larry to meet her at Montell’s Sandwich Shop down the street when she was finished and then strolled off, phone already in her hand as she focused on the screen.
Larry and I sat quietly until I all but blurted, “Want to tell me what that was all about?”
She shifted in her seat. “Not really.”
“Laramie Annabeth,” I scolded.
“Jesus, fine.” She sighed. “Last week, I was hanging out with Kayla while she was bartending. She met some guy and went home with him. I decided to stay at the bar and enjoy myself, but I may have possibly overindulged.”
Surprise lit my features. Larry was fun-loving and extroverted and exuberant, but she was not one for public intoxication. “Were you dancing on their fancy tabletops or something?”
She winced. “More like puking and passed out in their fancy powder room.”
My shock turned to concern. “What the hell, Larry? Why didn’t you call me to come get you? How did you get home?”
“I got a hold of Becca, and she took care of me.”
My cousin looked sheepish and a little ashamed. I liked Becca a lot, but I couldn’t figure out why Larry would have called her instead of me.
“Oh.”
