“Actually, we’re not looking to get married,” he said. “I was here last night.”
The woman stopped and glanced at him, then her eyes narrowed. “You’re right. I remember you. Last wedding of the night, and a big tipper. Much appreciated.”
Blane smiled tightly. “You’re welcome. I was wondering…” How did someone say this tactfully and without sounding like a total douche? You didn’t, so he just blurted it out. “Do you know who I married?”
A sentence he never thought he’d say.
To his relief, the woman laughed. “You’d be surprised how often we get that,” she said. “Hold on, let me dig out your paperwork. I remember her, though. Sweet little thing. Think she’d had a few too many glasses of champagne though. Ya’ll seemed pretty enamored of each other. Could barely keep your hands off long enough to say your vows.”
Blane winced at the mental picture she was painting. “I don’t seem to recall.”
Pulling out a sheaf of papers, she handed them to him. “Her name was Amy,” she said.
“Who’s Amy?” Kade asked him. Blane shot him a look. Hell if he knew.
“If you’re having second thoughts,” she continued, “we have a 24-hour buyer’s remorse policy. For an additional two hundred and fifty dollars, we’ll destroy the paperwork and not file it with the state, effectively annulling the marriage.”
“How convenient,” Kade said, but Blane was already pulling out his wallet.
“Here you go,” he said, handing over the cash.
“Pleasure doing business with you,” she said. “You can keep the papers, if you’d like.”
Blane turned to go, but she stopped him.
“Oh wait, you forgot this last night.” She handed him a photograph. “It was complimentary with your package.”
“Was there a prenup, too?” Kade asked. Blane grabbed his arm, propelling him out the door as Mannie followed.
“Hey, man, I’m just looking out for you,” Kade said, snatching the picture from him. “Holy shit.” Kade froze and Blane nearly ran into him.
“What?” Blane asked, grabbing the photo back. He took a good look at it, his entire body going rigid in shock.
The girl was a tiny blonde, a tentative smile on her face as Blane’s arm rested on her shoulders and hers around his waist.
And she was obviously very pregnant.
“Whoa, dude,” Mannie breathed.
“A wife and a kid. That’s like, two birds, right?”
Blane didn’t even hear Kade, his gaze fixed on the photo. What the hell had he been thinking? Who was this girl and why had he married her?
He slid the photo into his pocket, noting that it must have been taken before whatever fight he’d gotten into, because he still wore his jacket and his face was unscathed.
Mannie unlocked the car and when they opened the doors, the smell had them all taking a step back.
“Why the hell did you lock up the car?” Kade asked. “No one wants to steal a crappy purple Scion.”
“It’s a very popular color,” Mannie retorted, holding his nose.
Kade muttered something under his breath, then waited for Blane to climb in.
“Start saving now for my Christmas present, little bro,” Blane said. “I’ve got a helluva list.”
For once, Kade kept his mouth shut. Probably because he suspected Blane would stuff him in the back seat with little provocation. He knew how far to push Blane…and when to shut the fuck up before he got his ass kicked.
Flipping through the papers, Blane found the address the girl Amy had written. To his relief, she lived right here in Las Vegas. He read the address to Manny. “Go here.”
“Why are we visiting your ex?” Kade asked.
Blane ground his teeth. “Because,” he said, “I should probably meet the woman I just divorced, don’t you think? The pregnant woman?”
No one replied. A wise move, considering Blane’s mood.
“Have you gotten my audition yet?” Mannie piped up as he drove. “Because you promised.”
“Yeah, about that,” Kade began, and Blane grimaced. He knew that tone. Kade was going to try and squirm out of it. “I may have…exaggerated a little when I said I knew a guy.”
“I knew it!” Mannie yelled, slamming a hand on the steering wheel. “I knew I couldn’t trust you, that you were lying to me! That’s what my mom always tells me. She says ‘Mannie, you can’t just believe what people tell you. You gotta think for yourself.’ But do I listen? No! And now I’m hauling your asses around along with a dead body stinkin’ up my car—”
“Stop already! Enough!” Kade’s yell cut through Mannie’s diatribe. “Jesus H. Christ, Mannie. If I’d known you’d have such a tantrum, I’d have waited until we stopped.”
“Is that a short joke?” Mannie demanded. “Only little kids throw tantrums? Because that’s totally offensive—”
“It wasn’t a joke! I was just saying!”