The Magnolia Chronicles by Kate Canterbary

Author:Kate Canterbary [Canterbary, Kate]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-946352-17-0
Publisher: Kate Canterbary

Chapter Twenty-One

My date crossed his arms over his chest and declared, "Bullshit."

"What's bullshit?" I asked, my hands flat on the bar top. "What? Why?"

Riley Walsh shook his head and stared at the televisions suspended over the bar. We hadn't met up for drinks or a game in months but the stars aligned today. The Red Sox were in Tampa and a summer storm had dropped a dark blanket of clouds and fog over the city. Tampa was beating the piss out of the Sox and the bar was mostly empty, two conditions ripe for a review of my adventures in dating.

"You're with two guys—at the same fucking time—and you're trying to tell me they're both decent. I'm calling bullshit on that."

"And I'm asking why you're calling bullshit," I said, more than a little indignant.

Riley went on shaking his head as if he had an eternity of frustration to work out with that one motion. "Because, Gigi, sweetheart, I've known you for nearly five years and you've never once given me a reason to trust the guys you bring around. If anything, you give me reason to send them on a long walk off a short pier."

Few people were allowed to put my track record on trial without finding themselves on the receiving end of a death glare. Riley was one of them, Andy was another.

"They're different," I remarked. "I know I've said that before but it's true this time."

"You told me Peter was different." He held up his index finger, a sure sign I was getting a list out of him. God help me. Always with the lists. "Then we discover Peter has a wife and a kid, and he's awaiting trial for money laundering. Did you ever get paid for that last set of penthouse roof gardens?"

I groaned. "The Feds froze his assets."

"Uh huh. Yeah." He kept shaking his head. "Will they be calling you as a witness?"

"He's going to plead out," I replied. "No trial."

"That's a bright spot in the shitshow." He glanced up at the game and then back at me. "You told me that fuckbag who stole your dog had changed. You said that not too long before he stole your fucking dog, Gigi."

"And I was wrong," I admitted. "I know I've made bad choices, Riley."

He reached for his beer, getting in another head shake. "Really bad choices," he muttered. "I don't know if I can take on two dudes when this goes tits up."

"If," I argued. "If this goes tits up."

"Fine, if," he said with one more head shake. "All right, then. Tell me. What makes these two so fucking different? Why won't I be cold-cocking them one of these days?"

"Because they're—they're different, Riley," I argued.

He shifted on his stool, turning to face me. "I want to believe you. I really do. And it's not you I doubt. It's them."

I turned my attention back to the game. I didn't know how to explain that Rob and Ben were nothing like the men of my past. "Different" just didn't sum it up.

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