Max turned to me, charming smile in place. “See? Nothing to worry about, mate. We’ll pick up the dresses, get you some food . . . or maybe some alcohol, judging by your expression, and everything will be fine when we return. And if it’s all the same to you, I’ll just be taking these.” He plucked the keys from my hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked, reaching for them.
“Sorry, Ben, best for everyone, I’m afraid. You’re likely to mow down pedestrians in your state of mind and that would put a definite wrinkle in the wedding festivities.”
“I can drive, Max. Give me the goddamn keys.”
“Have you seen yourself? Got that vein thing happening,” he said, reaching up to tap my forehead before I smacked his hand away.
Will snorted behind me and I turned, leveling him with a glare. He held his hands out in front of him. “The man has a point,” he said, backing away.
I spun to Max again. “Do you even know how to drive?”
“Of course I do.”
“Here?”
He waved me off. “Left side, right side. How different can it be?”
Max guided us back through the hotel and out to valet. We argued the entire way, me calling Max a bossy asshole, and Max asking me where I’d left my purse. Will trailed behind, half asleep on his feet.
An attendant approached us immediately, ignoring our bickering as he matched the keys to a list pinned to a clipboard. We followed him to a white cargo van parked at the curb, cool in the shade of a grouping of palms. I waved off his offer of directions, placed a few dollars in his hand, and turned my back as he walked away.
“So, the plan. Will,” Max said, waiting a beat before reaching out and smacking Will across the cheek.
Will startled, eyes wide. “What?”
“You all right?”
“God, I’m just so fucking tired.”
“Well, have some coffee and snap out of it,” Max said. “You’ll ride with us to the cleaners, then take a cab from there to pick up the rings.”
“What, am I your little sidekick now? Why can’t Henry help with any of this?”
“Because Henry talks too much and you’re much prettier,” Max said. “Who knows? We may need to sweet talk a feisty old bird at the dry cleaners, and who is better than you at seducing cougars?” He patted Will’s cheek, cooing, “No one, Blossom. No one.”
Will yawned, clearly too tired to argue, and waved him off. “Yeah, whatever.”
Max walked around the van, stopping just beside the passenger door. “Ben, your chariot awaits.”
“Fuck you,” I said, slugging him in the shoulder as I climbed into the seat.
But I could hear him laughing as he rounded the front and got in, asking, “All right back there, William?”
“Yeah, yeah,” came the mumbled reply. “You’re both assholes.”
Max put the keys in the ignition and the engine roared to life. After grinning proudly at me he turned back and his face grew puzzled when he attempted to put the van in gear, only to be met with a horrible grinding noise.
“That’s encouraging,” I said.
“Would you stop being such a twat and relax? I’ve got this.”
“Of course you do.”
The van lurched forward and I made a dramatic point about fastening my seat belt. The tires screeched as we took the first turn and I reached blindly for the dash, anything to hold on to. Will wasn’t as lucky, and the sound of him tumbling around in the cargo area could be heard from the front seat.
“When was the last time you actually drove a car?” I asked, bracing myself as we prepared to take another turn.
He pursed his lips as he considered this. “Vegas,” he said with a nod, completely unfazed by the trail of blaring horns in our wake.
“Vegas? I don’t remember you driving anywhere in Vegas.”
He checked the directions on his phone, blazed through a yellow light at the very last minute, and nearly rear-ended a car at a stop sign. “It’s possible I borrowed a car while you boys were occupied.”
“Borrowed? Jesus.”
“Yeah. And actually . . . to be fair, it was a limo, not a car. But that’s not the point. I got there safe and sound in the end.”
“And did you notice anything unusual? Maybe a few rude hand gestures aimed in your direction? Police sirens?”