Page 36 of Best Served Cold

“It’s a free country,Jonah. I have every right to be here,” Hannah tells him as I stop dead. Sophie runs into my back and then wraps her arms around my middle to avoid falling over.

Sensation strums through me as her hands grip my sides, her chest pressed to my back. The heat of her radiates through my T-shirt.

Does she think a penny foretold or did this?

She feels small, and maybe that’s why I’m suddenly consumed by protectiveness. I want to turn around, sweep her up into my arms, and carry her away from this mess. But I don’t want to help her avoid the ugly things in life. Like I said, it’s the ugly parts that make the biggest impression. The bad luck pennies. The sadness. The wild grief and anger. Wipe those away, and what do you have left?

A fake smile, probably.

Jonah’s back is to us, but he’ll see us before long. Especially since Hannah is going to give us away with her overly dramaticget the hell out of hereeyes.

“Why are you here withhim?” Jonah asks, nodding toward Otis, who’s sitting on his stool as if frozen, nursing his drink.

“We’re on a date, you pompous prick,” Hannah snaps. “I haven’t been sitting at home crying over you. Otis is arealman. He realizes that a tongue should be used sparingly and women don’t enjoy being slobbered on.”

Otis drops the ginger beer he’d had halfway to his mouth. It was mostly empty, but his eyes shift into panic mode as the liquid spreads across the bar, and he pulls a tissue of dubious cleanliness out of his pocket to sop it up. Everyone’s watching him, and he must feel it, because his cheeks are red.

Hannah sniffs primly “Now, if you don’t mind, we’re going home to make sweet, passionate love to each other.”

Otis’s face gets redder as Jonah shakes his head in disbelief. “No way. There’s no way you randomly met this kid. Or that you wanted to date him. Have you been stalking my fiancée?”

Yup, that settles it. I have to get Sophie out of here, now. I start to turn, ready to hustle her out, when she surprises the hell out of me by pushing past me, her hands pressing to my chest to both reassure me and move me out of the way.

She was tipsy earlier, but there’s no sign of it now as she stalks toward Jonah in her wedding dress.

It’s the only time he’ll ever get to see her wear it, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take pleasure from that, because she is a fucking sight to see. As she slips past me, I take in the resolve burning in her big blue eyes and the firm line of her mouth. She’s a force of nature barreling toward Jonah, who still doesn’t sense her.

Hannah’s eyes are widening, but a pleased smile forms on her mouth as she watches Sophie coming.

“This woman’s using you to get to Sophie,” Jonah says, turning toward Otis on his stool.

“That’s okay,” Otis tells him. “I’m content with being used. More women can use me if they like.” He looks around almost hopefully.

Just then, Sophie reaches Jonah and taps him on the shoulder as officiously as a Karen with a complaint.

He turns and lays eyes on her. I’m only about ten feet behind her, but he doesn’t seem to notice me.

How could he?

He’s staring at his ex-fiancée, who looks fine as hell in the dress she was supposed to marry him in. A sight like that would be enough to break most men. I’m not surprised when his mouth gapes open like a fish’s, gasping for air. Someone pushes past me to make their way to the bar, business continuing as usual despite the entertaining scene playing out.

I consider moving in and intervening and decide I’ll only do it if Sophie needs me. It’s important for her to have this moment. To take her stand. To accept the parts of her that aren’t as soft and accommodating as the Sophie I nicknamed Pollyanna.

“Sophie,” Jonah finally manages. “Your dress…”

The look on his face…

I’m not too proud to admit I’m more tempted to drink his rage than I am by any form of alcohol.

“I’m not wearing it for you,” she says, holding herself stiffly upright. “I paid for this dress, and I love it. I’m wearing it for me. Because I didn’t want to hide it away in a drawer forever as if I’d done something to be ashamed of. And Hannah is here because we’ve become friends. Briar too. If anyone’s a stalker, it’syou. You tracked me down with your Find My Friend app, didn’t you?”

Or maybe my GingerBeerBabe theory is right. There’s no way of knowing, and he certainly isn’t going to be honest about it.

It only takes him half a second to recover. His gaze darts back to Hannah, who gives him a wave that would make Queen Elizabeth proud. Swearing, he shifts his gaze to Sophie. “She’s just using you to get to me.”

Hannah snorts. “Yeah, ego much?”

His eyes alight on me, widening in surprise and recognition, just as a little girl comes running out of the restroom with one of the Jonah flyers crumpled in her hand. “Mommy, what’s an STD?” she asks as she hurries over to a woman seated with a group of other women in some armchairs arranged beside the bar. “Can I have one?”

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