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CHAPTER SEVEN
Kane
How the hell did we get roped into a post-wedding brunch? Because from the minute we stepped foot into the restaurant, Elaine was already acting like the Queen of England, ordering everyone about like they were her loyal subjects.
“Here, here,” she said imperiously, pointing this way and that. “No! There, there!”
The waiters scurried around like mice, doing her bidding. Tyler, Mason and I exchanged looks. Man, this was gonna be painful.
Meanwhile, poor Bobby leaned back in his chair, looking exhausted. But my guess was that he hadn’t gotten laid. No way. Elaine probably kept him up until sunrise complaining about this or that, instead of doing her wifely duties. Man, if that had happened last night, I’m sure my bro would be looking a lot more chipper this morning.
But it was too late now. The deal was signed, sealed and delivered. Might as well put a good spin on it.
“Yo Bob, you should come hang in New York with us one weekend,” grunted Tyler, slapping our buddy on the back. “We never got the chance to do a bro’s weekend before you got married.”
Maybe that would cheer the guy up. A big steak dinner, and some time at Scores and Lace with the professional ladies. Maybe that’d put a spring back in his step. Mason jumped in, echoing the sentiment.
“Yeah bro, you should definitely come. We could hit up all of our old places.”
He’d obviously seen the forlorn look on Bobby’s face too. This was our fucking bro; we didn’t want to see him looking so defeated, it was downright sad. So I threw in my two cents as well. Might as well go for the money.
“It hasn’t been the same without you, Bobster. Come for a weekend. It’ll be like old times,” I promised.
And Bobby looked better after our words. Some color returned to his face, and he sat straighter in the chair. But before a word was uttered, Elaine bulldozed her way into the conversation like a crazed rhino.
“If Bobby goes to New York, I’ll be coming with him,” she pronounced snappily. “After all, we are married now, right my love?”
My bros and I swiveled to face the poor guy. So she’s in charge now huh? Man, freedom is precious, and Bobby no longer had it. Because without looking in our direction he looked down and mumbled.
“Yes, dear,” came the words, docile like a pet dog.
Satisfied, Elaine flashed a triumphant smile and turned back to issuing orders. Not a moment too soon, my lady. Not a moment too soon.
Because I’ve heard of the Stepford Wives, but had Bobby become a Stepford Husband? Was he now a robot without any self-will? Existing on this Earth only to make Elaine happy? Man, what a turnaround from our carefree spirited days, roaming around town like a pack of wolves.
So yeah, it looked like marriage was a life sentence. A bad one, for my bud especially. Sorry bro, that’s a raw deal. This is a tough one with no easy way out.
And glancing at his tired profile, I pitied the poor guy for the millionth time. At least there was always divorce if the shit got too bad. Please tell me he had her sign a pre-nup.
But now, the post-wedding brunch. The fancy restaurant had nice décor, but the food was terrible. It was being served in bite size portions fit for a dwarf. Plus, it was some low-carb, no calorie, tasteless mush that Elaine and her brigade of skinny minnies preferred, if they ate at all. Another sigh escaped me. Hopefully, there was a good steakhouse nearby where we could grab a real meal later.
But fuck, there was just no peace in this place. Because Stacy and the other bridesmaids started throwing themselves at us in about five minutes flat. It was shameless, I tell you. Crazy out of whack shameless. Clearly, they weren’t up with body language and cold stares.
“Where did you guys go last night? You missed dancing with us,” Stacy whined as she tried to get our attention. If there was a paper bag nearby, I might have forced it over her head just to muffle the noise.
No reply from any of us.
“I wanted to show you something,” she cooed, winking our way and carelessly flipping that blonde hair over her shoulder.
Really?
What could it be?
None of us were interested.
But to be polite, Mason spoke up.
“We had to go back to the hotel to get a little work done last night,” the big man said smoothly, more to fill the silence than anything.
