Page 32 of Best Served Cold

I feel like I should probably object to this, but instead I find myself snort-laughing. “And it’s your number, isn’t it? You’re probably going to get hundreds of calls.”

“Good. I’ll inform them all that he has a diseased dick and they should make a run for it at the earliest opportunity.”

Hedoesn’thave a diseased dick, thankfully. Briar, Hannah, and I went to a clinic together to get tested. But it would be no more than he deserved if he did.

“Were you carrying those flyers around in your purse?” I ask, leaning in a little. “Have you posted them all around town?”

“In certain strategic locations.” She looks so pleased with herself, I’d probably have smiled back even if I didn’t agree. But I savor the thought of Mrs. Price finding one in the bathroom at her favorite wine bar.

“Can I have some too?” I ask. “And we should give Briar some.”

Her grin stretches wider. “I like the way you think, and yes, of course. Let’s put them everywhere. Let’s make sure he never gets laid in Western North Carolina again. Give it to me.” She holds her hand out for a fist bump, and I tap it with mine.

“Planning my brother’s downfall?” Rob asks, clearly amused.

I turn on my stool to get a better look at him. He’s not sitting too close, but I’m very aware of where his body ends and mine begins, and even the air between us. I’m still half stunned by the revelation that he doesn’t drink.

Jonah told me Rob was a boozer in a band who spent every night drunk and with a different woman. I believed him, because Rob dresses like a teenager and looks…

Well, wanton.

I run a finger over the edge of the smooth bar, desperately aware of the blush rising on my cheeks. “Wouldn’t he deserve it? He lied about your carousing.”

He angles his head to get a better look at me. “He lies about lots of things. But like I said, it wasn’t always a lie. I don’t drink because Ican’tdrink.”

“You’re allergic to alcohol?” Otis asks, his tone making it clear that this is the worst possible scenario he can imagine. He’s been mostly silent since we arrived at the bar; in fact, he hasn’t been particularly chatty since the whole phone mishap. I asked him about his unusual reticence yesterday, and he said he’d run out of weed gummies and didn’t have enough cash to buy more, but I know that’s a lie. He would have asked to borrow money if he’d run out.

“No, not like that,” Rob replies. He doesn’t expand on his response. I’d really like him to, but I’m not going to push him.

“I think alcohol is God’s gift,” Otis says, rocking on his stool. “The world is really screwed up and weird, but if you’re a little bit drunk, it seems okay, and everyone seems nice. They’re probably still not, but booze makes it easier to pretend.”

I lean over the bar to get a better look at my cousin, who’s sitting on Rob’s other side. “Are you okay? You didn’t get fired again, did you?”

Otis has trouble keeping a job. I got him a taproom position at Buchanan Brewery for a few weeks, but he let a woman con him into giving her and her friend a private tour of the brewery. Her companion ended up getting injured, which could have gotten us sued.

My boss, Dylan, is a good guy and was very understanding. But Otis has a good way of finding people’s boundaries and pushing past them.

More recently, he’s been working for Honey Do, a service that lists odd jobs people want done and matches them up with the semi-employed. I didn’t think you could get fired from something like that, but who knows.

“No,” he says, slouching. “I think I’m just having a quarter-life crisis. Honey Do sucks.”

“Why would melon give you a quarter-life crisis?” Hannah asks, leaning in to peer at him. “Just eat a different fruit, man.”

I laugh through my nose. Hannah’s obviously a little drunk, like I am. “D-o, not d-e-w. He’s talking about the chore service. It’s where he works.” I glance back at Otis. “It’s okay, Otis. I’ll find you a new job. We can do the Myers-Briggs test to see what career would suit you best.”

He smiles at me. “I just…you know…I want to prove I’m a man.”

Hannah studies him quizzically. “Was there any question about that?” A second later, she taps her forehead dramatically. “Oh, you’re still hoping to bang Briar. I’m sorry to tell you, buddy, but I don’t think she’s interested. In fact, she’s so disgusted by this whole Jonah thing that I wouldn’t be surprised if she gives up men entirely. I mean, the woman startedcrocheting. You don’t pick up crocheting at thirty unless you’re done with dick.”

“She’s a bit older than meandyou,” I tell Otis, who looks downcast. “But you never know. We’ll find you a new job, and then we’ll see what happens.”

To my consternation, I can see Rob is frowning at me from the stool beside mine. He looks decidedly unimpressed.

“What’s your problem?” I whisper-hiss, scowling at him.

Hannah, who either feels bad for popping Otis’s balloon or wants to torment him further, vacates her seat and plants herself on the empty one beside him.

Rob leans toward me slightly and whispers, “He’ll never get anywhere if you keep driving him around in a wheelbarrow, telling him how well he’s doing on his free ride.”

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