Page 54 of Bourbon and Lies

Awesome. I’ll come by and lick it up later.

Hadley interrupts, “Who has you smiling like that?”

COWBOY

I’ve already taken care of it.

LANEY

That’s a shame. Cleaning up is sometimes the best part.

We’ve been on Hadley’s roof deck for a couple of hours, sitting on pale pink lounge chairs decorated with plush pillows shaped like disco balls. There’s a blow-up kiddie pool in the far corner with two swan floaties moving with the little breeze that’s working through downtown Fiasco today. I knew some time with her would help to distract me, and it’s been working like a charm. Grant was tied up with his brothers after work so I texted Hadley. She said she had worked super late, but if I wanted to come over and lounge with her, she was in “spy-mode.” I didn’t know what that meant, but I wanted to get to know her more. She’s easy to be around. She wants to relax in the sun on her over-the-top roof deck on a hot summer’s day in a bathing suit. And spy on her neighbors. I like that she’s a bit of a troublemaker and caretaker rolled into a really fun package, who knows what it means to be curious and still kind. All of it equals me wanting to be around her. And it seems like the feeling is mutual.

“What about you?”

She kicks her feet up and tilts her head to the sun. “What about me?”

“Are you seeing anyone? You hadn’t mentioned anyone, but?—”

“Between us, I’m so single it’s become my identity.” She takes a sip of her Aperol spritz. “But if anyone asks, I enjoy plenty of company.”

“Is that for your benefit, or . . .”

She exhales, long and loud. “You already know this, but everyone knows everyone’s business here. It would make my father intensely happy to hear I’m looking to settle down. He’s got plenty of douche-canoes lined up to marry me.” She lowers her sunglasses to look at me. “And it’s not because he wants to see his little girl happy. He wants me to marry into a family that’ll benefit him or his business.”

“That feels really archaic, Hadley.”

I instantly feel shitty for being judgmental as she gives me a tight-lipped smile. She clearly already knows how it sounds.

“My father doesn’t always play above the line when it comes to business. He has fairly misogynistic ideas about women. So my work-around is being the kind of woman none of his ‘associates’ would want to keep. Honestly, his generation says ‘slut’ with a negative connotation. Our generation says it and I’m ready to respect the shit out of whomever waves that flag.”

I can’t help but smile. There’s not a category for her, and maybe that’s why I like her so much. She has tiny tattoos peppered along her forearms, big, wild, curly hair, and this badass vibe that seems impenetrable.

She texts away on her phone. “Do you need a refill?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Press that button.” She points to a framed black button. Across the top of it reads:Cabana Boy.

“So between us, I’m underwhelmed in the partner department. And I’m okay with that. At least for now, maybe I’ll just live vicariously through you.”

The door to her roof deck opens and through it comes a tall man with dark blonde hair wearing a Fiasco FD t-shirt. “Did I just beckon someone to bring us drinks?”

Her smile is mischievous. “You did.”

“Ms. Wheeler, the lieutenant said I was supposed to come over here and help you with something?”

She turns to me with a smirk. “I may not approve of how my dad does business, but it has its benefits.”

Looking back at him, she says, “Can you be a sweetheart and make us two Aperol spritzes?”

He smirks. “Ma’am, I’m on duty.”

She sits up in her triangle bikini top, which he notices right away as his eyes drop lower and then flick back up. “Thank you for your service, then.” She points to the bar cart in the south corner of the roof deck, sitting underneath a white sun umbrella. “Drink directions are right next to the glasses.”

Kicking her feet back up on the lounger, she gestures for me to continue. “Now, did Grant kiss you, or did you kiss him?”

I bark out a laugh. “I think I love you.”

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