“No, I don’t think so—except that I have no idea how they got into the building,” I exhaled sharply.
“Who?” Bryant blinked in confusion.
“The person who left me this.” I opened my drawer and tossed the pink carnation, along the with the invitation, on the desk in front of him.
“What the fuck?” Bryant’s head snapped back like I had thrown a venomous snake in front of him. “No—there’s no fucking way. You got this—recently?”
“Yesterday,” I growled under my breath and flipped the envelope over. “It has my name on it.”
“Holy shit…” He picked it up. “Have you opened it?”
“Yep…” I took a sip of my drink. “It’s just like the ones we got when we were teenagers—same cryptic shit and everything.”
“Carnation Club…” Bryant shook his head back and forth. “I thought that would be over and done with by now. It was just something silly that…”
“That Alexis Devereaux came up with?” I narrowed my eyes and finished his sentence. “The timing is obviously concerning.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Especially since she’s in prison.”
Alexis Devereaux was a socialite that turned divorcing husbands into a career—along with some other more nefarious things. Her meddling almost ruined Bryant’s relationship with Taylor before it could truly begin. When Bryant turned Alexis down, she resorted to blackmail—and when her secrets were finally exposed, she ended up in prison—doing a ten year stretch for her crimes. Long before that—when we were all teenagers at Carson Cove High—Alexis Devereaux started the Carnation Club. A couple of girls tried to keep it going after we graduated, but as far as we both knew, the club died off after some parents found out what was going on—they were quick to put a stop to it.
“What are you going to do? Throw it in the trash?” Bryant opened the envelope and pulled the card out.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “I’m sure you remember what happens when you don’t play the game.”
“Yeah,” he exhaled sharply. “I still have a scar underneath my ink thanks to this bullshit.”
“I certainly don’t want the reward.” I shook my head back and forth.
“Are you sure?” Bryant raised an eyebrow. “It’s not every day that a girl offers you her virginity if you can solve the puzzle…”
“But—what virgin?” I tilted my head to the side. “I’m not seventeen anymore. I think my days of taking virgins to bed ended a long time ago—before I got married.”
“Maybe not…” Bryant chuckled. “Or it could be someone you know—someone that isn’t brave enough to approach you on their own, so they figured they’d resurrect this nonsense. It might just be a secret admirer.”
“I feel like everyone in Carson Cove would be wary of associating themselves with anything that had the stink of Alexis Devereaux on it,” I growled under my breath.
“She invented it, but—it didn’t end with her. I heard that it turned into more of an I-like-you-do-you-like-me thing after she graduated.” Bryant tossed the paper down on my desk. “Alexis and her friends were the only ones that thought the guys who refused to play the game should be punished for it.”
“So, you think I can just toss it in the garbage, and that’ll be the end of it?” I lifted my glass and took a sip of my whiskey.
“Let’s think about this rationally for a second.” Bryant leaned back in his chair. “Carnation Club was only around for a few years, so that narrows the suspect list to someone that went to high school with us. They might not have graduated when we did, but that’s still what—a four or five year span?”
“Yeah.” I nodded in agreement. “Let’s say five to be safe.”
“Alright, so how many hearts did you break during that time?” He folded his arms across his chest and smirked.
“Damn, Bryant. This is a trip down memory lane I don’t want to take,” I exhaled sharply. “I guess it would make more sense for this to be someone I used to know rather than some random virgin who wants me to pop their cherry—it’s an odd way to tell someone you’re interested in them, but the theory is solid.”
The connection with Alexis Devereaux could be a coincidence. I’m freshly divorced—and it’s no secret that I’m dating since I haven’t been hiding it at all.
“Come on, start naming names.” Bryant rolled his hand in the air like he was flipping a Rolodex. “Bust out the black book, heartbreak kid.”
“Fucking hell,” I growled under my breath. “Well, obviously it’s not Mary.”
“Obviously.” He nodded. “Keep going…”
“Samantha James.” I winced.