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“Thank you so much, Dolores,” Valen murmured, forcing a smile as she looked up at the elderly woman who, with her tight gray curls and large round glasses, gave me major Mrs. Claus vibes. When she turned her attention back to me, she must have seen the curiosity on my face because she pointed to the pie with her fork. “Apple pie is my comfort food. It soothes my soul.”
Not one to judge what people use to get themselves through stressful situations, I held up my hands. “Sounds a lot better than my comfort food.”
“Which is?”
“Whiskey.”
She grinned. Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help but mirror it across the table.
“Anything for you, hun?” Dolores asked, pulling my attention to her. She was already poised, pencil and pad in hand, ready to take my order.
“Coffee,” I answered, pulling a fifty from my pocket and placing it on her pad. “Double espresso, please, and no change.”
“Coming right up, and thank you very much.” Dolores’ smile was a little playful, and I didn’t miss how she nudged Valen, their eyes meeting before she walked away.
Valen smiled across the table. “She likes you.”
I raised one of my eyebrows. “All I did was order a coffee.”
“Coffee orders say a lot about someone.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “Okay, so how about you fill me in on what it is that I just told her about myself.”
She laughed softly, the sound light and airy. “Espresso. You can be an impulsive shoot-from-the-hip type. But it’s generally because you know what you want, and you aren’t afraid to speak your mind.”Yes. Yes. Yes. “Your honest and no-nonsense attitude also means you hate liars and when people try to bullshit you.”
And yes.
Today’s situation is an excellent example of exactly that.
Walking into the church amidst the chaos Valen had left behind, it hadn’t taken me long to realize I was in the wrong place.
With the wrong people.
“The hell is going on?” I called to my father as I walked up the steps of the church. Given I’d seen the bride storming off down the street and the entire bridal party was here and not chasing after her, I was assuming something dramatic had gone down.
Dad stepped out the doors, his eyes wide but his voice barely above a whisper as he gave me the rundown. “Fucking hell, what a shitstorm.” He nodded toward the guy standing in the corner, a heavy frown on his face as he stared into the distance, his arms folded across his chest. “The groom and Jade were hooking up behind the bride’s back. She and Jade had been friends for ten years, and she outed them in front of the entire church full of people. Said,thanks for fucking my fiancé!Jesus Christ, I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“I need to find her!” Jade cried, struggling against the hold of a handful of bridesmaids. “We need to go and get her so I can tell her—”
“No, no, no,” Christine said as she crouched in front of her daughter and grabbed hold of her hands. “You need to let her throw her tantrum and speak to her when she’s cooled down.”
“A tantrum?” I scoffed. “Your daughter was screwing the groom behind her best friend’s back. Pretty sure the bride has every right to storm the hell out of here.”
Jade’s crying only got louder while Christine’s mouth fell open. “And whose side are you on?”
The side of the person who got hurt.
The one where nobody seemed to give a flying fuck.
That’s who.
Because it was a familiar feeling.
One I knew far better than any of these assholes.
Which is why I turned and walked out.
Another mission suddenly in my sights.
