plenty of room for the mom and grandma, too.’ He sat back triumphantly. ‘ And there you have it, Parker. A party.’
‘ I’ m in,’ Brie said. ‘ I’ m good with moms and grandmas.’
Susan gave me a pleading look. It said, Don’ t make me go, please don’ t make me go. Susan hates everything about Vegas-the noise, the buffets, the smoking. She doesn’ t understand why people would pump a hundred dollars in a slot machine and get nothing when they could use that money to buy nicer shoes. The shows are tacky. Everyone wanders around drunk. In other words, everything I love about the town. But is she a friend or what? Because even though she’ d rather eat the margarita glass she was holding, she’ d go if I wanted her to. I did want her help, but nobody likes a wet blanket in Vegas.
‘ Martucci,’ I said, ‘ that sounds fantastic. And Susan, you’ re excused-you don’ t have to go.’
Her exhale of relief nearly blew me from the table. I picked up the list again. ‘ Las Vegas also takes care of a couple of these others. Number sixteen: Get a massage. Easy enough. And number twenty: Make a big donation to charity. I’ ll simply win a fortune at roulette and then give it away.’
Martucci and Brie nodded in agreement, but Susan cried, ‘ You can’ t count on that! Do you have any idea the odds of winning?’
‘ Thirty-five to one on a straight-up bet,’ Martucci answered.
She threw up her hands. ‘ Whatever.’
‘ I guess that’ s it,’ I announced. ‘ I want to thank you guys for coming and for your-’
Brie grabbed the paper from me. ‘ What about this one? Number nineteen. Says, Show my brother how grateful I am for him.’
‘ Huh?’ I tried to make my face go blank.
‘ Your brother or her brother?’ Martucci asked.
I slumped down in my seat. ‘ My brother.’
‘ I keep forgetting you have a brother,’ Susan said. ‘ Isn’ t that terrible?’
‘ What-is he an asshole or something?’ Brie asked.
‘ He’ s fine. It’ s only that ‘ grateful’ is such a strong word.’
‘ So what are you going to do?’ Susan asked.
‘ I’ ve got that fund-raiser party at my parents’ house in a couple weeks.’ I paused to look at Susan. ‘ You and Chase are coming, right?’
‘ I wouldn’ t miss your dad’ s shrimp cocktail for the world.’
‘ My brother and his wife, Charlotte, will be there, too. So my idea was& ‘ I hesitated because it was so weak. ‘ That I’ d write a letter and tell him what a good brother he was. Give it to him there. Even if I have to make stuff up.’ I braced myself, waiting for the mockery.
‘ That’ s nice.’
‘ Yeah.’
‘ I’ d love to get a letter like that.’
‘ You really think so?’ I asked.
‘ You know what’ d be good,’ Brie added. ‘ Put a picture of the two of you together in it. Maybe from when you were kids. You got a nice picture?’
My mind flashed to a photo my mom kept framed on the mantel. In it, Bob and I are babies-I’ m lying on my side on the floor, and he’ s making an expression of surprise. My mom said he used to do that to me when I’ d first learned how to sit. He’ d tip me over and then pretend it was an accident.
‘ I’ m not sure about the picture,’ I said.
As I tucked the wet, salsa-stained list in my purse-good thing I hadn’ t brought out the original-a baritone voice so deep that it nearly vibrated my chair said behind me, ‘ Pardon me‘
I turned around to see a man the size of a tank and the color of hot coffee who was flashing a smile so striking that it was making other parts of me vibrate& until I realized that the killer grin was aimed at Brie. ‘ There’ s been a terrible mistake,’ he said smoothly. ‘ I’ ll have to talk to the bar owner. Because how could they be so foolish as to hide such a lovely lady away in a corner?’
‘ Crying shame, ain’ t it?’ Brie agreed.
He held up a karaoke list book. ‘ Perhaps& a duet?’
She grabbed her purse and slid off her chair. Then she took his hand and walked away without so much as a glance good-bye.
‘ I’ d better get going, too,’ Susan said. ‘ You want a ride?’
We left Martucci to cheer Brie on, both of us blinking from the sunlight when we walked outside. It’ d been so dark in the bar, it was easy to forget it was only six o’ clock.
As we walked to the car, Susan said, ‘ I can’ t believe you’ re going to Las Vegas with Martucci. He’ s so’ -she wrinkled her nose-’ smarmy. And what’ s with that little ponytail?’
‘ Rattail.’
‘ It looks like a caterpillar crawling up his neck.’
‘ Aw, Martucci’ s not so bad once you get to know him,’ I said. ‘ He’ s just rough around the edges.’
Chapter 17
M artucci twisted, hands on his waist, warming up for the run. The morning of the 5K race was cool, with a gray, heavy sky that we at the beach call haze but anywhere else they’ d call drizzle. ‘ Here we are. Together again. Can’ t get enough of me, can you, Parker.’
‘ You consume my every waking thought,’ I replied, pulling my leg behind me to stretch my thigh muscle.
