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Frank hit his fist on the counter. “I knew it! I knew it.”
“You did not.”
“Yes, I did.” He aimed his finger at me. “I told you from the beginning. What did I say? I said she was good for you.”
I bowed dramatically. “Yes. You are the master, the all-knowing.”
“Uh-huh.” Frank rocked back on his heels. “What about the other one? What’s her name? Pozo’s daughter?”
“Bridget.”
“Yeah, Bridget. She seems like a nice girl.”
“We broke up.”
He ran a finger under his bottom lip. “You broke up? Thought you said she wasn’t your girlfriend.”
“You can’t remember her name, but you remember I said that?”
Frank winked, his grin open wide, as open and wide as his heart. “What can I say? I only remember what I’m interested in.”
I grunted into the cup of my coffee, almost spilling it over the rim when he slapped my shoulder.
“Either way, I’m rooting for you with Gemmie. But, listen, I need your help.”
“With that?”
“I gotta get a tux.”
Hours later, we were lost in a sea of formalwear.
“Oh hell, why are there so many to choose from? When I got married the first time, it was in a suit the color of shit.”
“Nice.” I slid my finger along the brim of the top hat on my head and swung a cane under my arm. “Are you going for the same look this time around?”
“That’s why you’re here. I’m not any good at this stuff. You’re young. You’re hip.” Frank pulled me around the store. “What do you think?”
I pointed to a big poster hanging on one of the walls, male models all grinning. I assumed they were a groom and his groomsmen. “I think you’re supposed to match. Like prom.”
“Match?”
I nodded resolutely and flipped my cane in the air, catching it deftly as the door at the front of the store blew open. Gemma strutted in, her attention on her cell phone, a smile gracing her lips as she typed something and then laughed with a little shake of her head.
“What are you doing here?” Frank asked, peering out from behind a mannequin wearing a suede suit.
“Mom sent me to make sure you don’t screw it up.”
“Oh, thank god. Get over here.” He moved to greet her with a hug, and she smiled but smothered it as soon as she spied me over Frank’s shoulder.
Taking my top hat in hand, I offered her a low bow. She only rolled her eyes and then focused back on her phone as soon as Frank let go of her.
“So, let me get this straight,” I said, sidling up next to her. “I saw your momscoldyou for not following the dress code, and yet she sends you to pick out a wedding tuxedo.”
She answered with gaze on her phone. “I know what’s appropriate to wear to places, I just like to wear what I want. Rules or no rules.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” I tried to get a glimpse of her screen. “Who are you texting?”
“My best friends,” she responded, head still down.
