I brace myself for some more light ribbing from Kyra. She and Colin have been razzing me about missing their big New Year’s Eve party for almost three years straight now. It was just one party, and I still ended up on Colin’s imprint over at Big Hill like he wanted. But according to Kyra, me signing with Colin doesn’t make up for them never getting to meet the mystery girl I was supposed to bring through as my plus-one.
“I’m going to stay forever curious about the woman who could get G-Latham to actually admit he was dating her.”
Them and me both. If they were upset about not getting to meet Red, imagine how pissed I was when she never showed up at my place after promising to meet me there.
It’s been years. Not months, but years. Yet my stomach still knots up when I remember how, instead of reporting for rehearsal at the soundstage Stone River had rented, I rehearsed my big confession speech in front of the mirror what had to be a thousand times before going down to the lobby to wait for her.
Only for her never to show up, like she promised.
But Kyra looks upset when we stop in front of her. And instead of teasing me, she holds up her phone and tells Colin, “Bernice can’t make it now.”
“Who’s Bernice?” I ask, snagging a glass of champagne from a passing cater waiter. “She sounds boring.”
“My cousin, who you know nothing about,” Kyra answers.
I was just teasing, but she glares at me like I spit on one of those kids she and Colin keep popping out. “And now that you say that, I’m glad I don’t have to introduce her to you.”
“Is your cousin as cute as you?” I ask, grinning at her over my champagne glass.
“Nobody’s as cute as Kyra,” Colin answers.
He used to be cool. But ever since getting married, dude’s become a permanent eye roll.
Also, don’t think I didn’t notice that he didn’t answer my question…or say she was already taken like all the other beauties I’m spotting at their boring party.
“But seriously, man, is she hot like your wife?” I press. “Because if she is, I’d like to get that introduction—”
“So, have you two been dating long?” Kyra asks, abruptly turning to face Waylon and his woman.
I don’t get any more information from Kyra about her possibly single cousin.
And I’m only at this party because Waylon claimed he needed psycho backup to watch his woman—who apparently may or may not be still trying to run away. He wasn’t exactly clear.
But soon, I’m kicking myself for not getting more details.
He and that pretty nurse he pretty much kidnapped have been squeezed up tight like lovebirds all day. I’m the only single guy at this party. And all anybody wants to talk about at dinner is how they all met their spouses.
Fifteen minutes into Kyra’s and Colin’s meet-cute story, I’m regretting my decision to quit smoking so much weed. I’m also eyeing the kids' table. It looks like Mason Fairgood’s adopted teenage son snuck in a Nintendo Switch. I wonder how much cash I’d need to palm him to give me a turn. I would happily drop three figs for some Zelda right now.
“So he tells me to meet him at this cabin in Latham County, of all places….”
Something Kyra’s saying suddenly breaks into my thoughts about copping the Nintendo Switch.
“And mind you, this was back before they cleared out the white supremacist motorcycle gang,” she adds, popping her eyes wide. “I was like, ‘Oh my God. What am I getting myself into?’ And I texted my best cousin, ‘Listen, if I go missing, it was Colin Fairgood.'”
Everyone else falls out laughing. But I stare at her with my heart beating in my ears. “What did you just say?”
Kyra’s laugh stutters a little. “No offense. This was before they renamed the place after your father. I hear it’s perfectly safe to go there these days.”
“No, not that. The other part, about your cousin. Why did you call her your 'best cousin'?”
Kyra looks to both sides. “Because she’s one of my best friends,” she answers carefully. “And also my cousin.”
Suddenly, I’m back at that Latham County cabin I haven’t visited in three years, lying on the floor with Red and listening to The Darkness believe in a thing called love.
“What’s your cousin’s name?”
“It’s Bernice,” she answers. “Remember, you said she sounded boring earlier?”
Okay. I doubted Red’s real name was something as dull as Bernice. But the thing is, I never did find out her actual name. She’d disappeared by the time I went back to the roadhouse to look for her after getting over that ego kick.
And when I asked Nestor if he had any documentation on her, he just said in that heavy Greek accent of his, “This is not a job many girls want on their resume. I do not bother with paperwork, and Red was fine with getting paid in cash, so no checks. But ask my niece about her. She is the one who brought her in for the interview.”