Page 51 of Best Served Cold

“I see you’re drinking again,” Jonah says in a withering tone.

Rob lifts the glass in a silent cheers. “Please, continue. Like I said, we’re enjoying the show. I assume you came tonight on purpose, because I told you I thought you should leave Sophie alone, and you wanted to prove you could get her back, right? So, please. Prove it. I’m paying attention. Lots of us are. But there may be a plot twist you’re not prepared for.”

“You’re shit-faced,” Jonah sneers.

“I made the drink for him,” I say, anger making my blood boil. “It’s nonalcoholic. He’s just being a good friend to me.”

“Why are you hanging out with my deadbeat brother, anyway?” Jonah lashes out at me. “This is the second time I’ve seen you together. You know we don’t get along.” His voice is full of accusation, and the injustice of it sends goosebumps across the surface of my skin.

“It’s none of your business who I spend time with,” I say tightly. “I may be the perfect wife for you, Jonah, but you wouldnotbe the perfect husband for me. I’m really glad you thought I had to have exactly the same phone as you with exactly the same wallpaper, because otherwise I might have made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“You’re making the biggest mistake of your life right now,” he says, standing.

It’s uncomfortable to stand in these booths. Either the seat or the table digs into your legs, but a flash of intuition tells me he’s doing it just so he can look down at me. He loves looking down at people. He even bought shoes with a two-inch lift so he could do it more efficiently.

Pure rage flash fries my Pollyanna side, and I stand up on the seat of the booth. SoIcan look down athim.

He stares at me in disbelief. It’s the same stare he gave me that day at Silver Star, thewho are you and what did you do with the pushover I’m used to?stare. The tasting room goes silent for half a second and then erupts into conversation.

I’m probably going to regret this. Possibly a lot. Seconds ago, I was worried about Jonah making a scene, and now I’m the one doing it. But something inside of me has burst, and I can’t sit down.I can’t.I wave at the crowd and then blow them a kiss. In the back of my head a panicked voice is screaming, but I shove itdown, down, down.

My friends still haven’t returned, but I’m certain it won’t be long now. They’ll have heard the uproar.

“Get down from there,” Jonah says, his cheeks turning red. You’re making a fool of yourself again.”

“I thoughtyouwanted that.” I point to the boom box. “Go ahead, we’ll perform a duet together. Heck, if you’ll sing a duet with me right now, I’ll agree to have dinner with you so wecan talk about everything you totally didn’t do. We’ll even get dessert.”

“But I’ll be sitting in the booth behind you,” Rob says with a laugh. “That’s nonnegotiable. And I get to share the appetizers. I never want to eat all twelve chicken wings.”

“Well?” I ask Jonah.

It’s meant as a challenge, and it works. I can tell he never meant to serenade me. It was a threat, maybe even a bluff.

“Is there even a tape in that boom box?” I ask.

I can tell by the look on his face that there isn’t. For some reason I’m more offended by this than the rest of his bullshit.

“I want you to leave me alone,” I tell him, my voice rising with every word. “I never want to see you again. This is over.Done.”

Silence has descended on the bar, and I can feel dozens of eyes on me. I glance around. My friends still aren’t around, and there’s no sign of Dylan, which is probably why we haven’t been interrupted. My coworker behind the bar gives me a shaky nod, like she’s not sure whether she should intervene or support me through my public crisis.

“We are no longer engaged,” I tell everyone. “This is over.Permanently.”

“It’s probably because of all those STDs,” I hear someone say.

Jonah looks so furious, I’m surprised he doesn’t burst spontaneously into flame.

“I can have any woman I want,” he says spitefully. “Any woman, anywhere, anytime. Why would I want a washed-up bartender whose own family doesn’t want anything to do with her?”

The words are meant to stab me where it hurts, and they do. I become intensely aware of all those eyes on me, staring at me as if I were wearing a scarlet letter. Only I’m pretty sure mine is an L, for loser, instead of an A, for adultery.

My knees feel like they want to buckle, but I wrap my hand around the pendant at my neck and stand tall. It’s the pink crystal from Dottie. Briar surprised Hannah and me by making our crystals into matching necklaces. It’s a sign of love and friendship, and even though I was initially afraid of what it signified—moving on, trusting again—it gives me strength.

I refuse to sit back down.

“You’ll want to be careful about the way you talk to her,” Rob says from his stalwart position at my side of the booth. He stands up tall and straight, and suddenly he’s pure menace, his arms loose at his sides and ready to do damage to Jonah.

“Why?” Jonah asks, giving a bitter laugh. “You never gave a shit about her until a few weeks ago. You have a sudden taste for my leftovers?”

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