Page 81 of The Boyfriend Experience

“What the hell are you talking about?” And she sounds like a Valley Girl so every sentence sounds like a goddamned question.

“The news, Oaklee. I know you’re upset about that Buffalo Brews woman. Haley or something?”

“Hanna,” I growl.

“Yeah, her. Well, she’s on the news right now telling people she’s got the number one craft beer in Colorado.”

“What?” I say, getting hot with anger. “Everyone knows that’s not true. Bronco Brews is still number one.”

“I know, but there’s an article out on the Westword website today. About next weekend’s festival and all. And they have already declared her the winner because she has some secret beer, and she gave them a sample to try.”

“She has a secret beer?” I say.

“Yeah.”

“Shit. OK, well, thanks for telling me, Dana. And don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone it was you.”

“Thank you!” she chimes, then hangs up the phone.

I reach for the remote on my desk, turn the TV on, then start flipping through the local channels looking for Hanna Harlot’s face.

“I can’t tell you what it’s called,” Hanna says to the camera on Channel Five. “Not until next weekend. But Westword has already—”

I turn it off. I’m too pissed to watch.

Online I find the Westword site and yup. Sure enough, there’s Hanna’s stupid face. If they’re already talking about her on Monday’s Featured Brew column, and the new print issue doesn’t come out until Thursday, they are probably going to give her the fucking cover this week.

That stupid bitch!

I just stare at the article. Read some of it, but her bragging is so over the top, I just can’t stand it. How she came from nothing. How she bootstrapped herself up the ladder in a man’s world. How no one helped her and she did it all herself.

I want to barf. I want to scream—“She cheated off me!”

I want to strangle her.

And tonight, Oaklee, she’s having dinner with your boyfriend. Because you told him to do that.

I’m dumb. Very, very stupid. Because clearly Hanna is playing a game I have no knowledge of. I don’t know the rules, or the plays, or the pitfalls—or anything. I’m clueless.

And—I reluctantly admit—I’m losing.

She’s talking about her secret beer, I’m not. Score one for Hanna.

She’s on TV, I’m not. One more point for my nemesis.

She’s the Featured Brew in today’s Westword Online. They’re calling her beer the best in Colorado and the contest isn’t for another six days!

And… she’s having dinner with my boyfriend right now.

I can’t. I can’t let her do this. She has broken my life up into little pieces and now it’s time I put all those pieces back together again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR - LAWTON

Boulder is tucked up against the foothills of the Rocky Mountains about thirty miles northwest of Denver. But once you get there it’s immediately clear that Boulder and Denver, while connected via sprawling suburbia, have almost nothing in common.

Denver has a view of mountains but it’s not in the mountains. Boulder is where the mountains begin, and the large rock formation to the west of the city, called the Flatirons, is the iconic symbol of Boulder.

It has a small-town feel, it’s a college town—the University of Colorado campus takes up a significant portion of the valley—and it’s best known for its 420 activities, the unofficial-official day where everyone gets together and smokes pot on campus. But the football team—the Buffalos, of Buffs, as they are called around these parts—aren’t bad either, and the science departments are top-notch.