“Go ahead,” I coax when his lips remain sealed. “No one will judge you here.”
“I think my wife is a prostitute.”
“Wh—” I cough to hide my exclamation of surprise. This is a new one. I clear my throat. “Sorry. What makes you think your wife is a prostitute?”
“I’m suspicious of all the extra cash she seems to have at her disposal.”
I raise my eyebrows and deliberately let my eyes wander up and down him. In addition to the custom-made suit, he’s wearing a pair of lace-up oxfords I’d swear are Berluti. The Italian leather shoes retail for over two-thousand dollars.
So, sue me, I like to look at pretty things online during my lunch break. It’s not against the law. And it totally came in handy when Phoebe showed up in her Louboutins with her Prada tote.
Mr. Moneybags’ lips purse. “She receives a weekly allowance from me, but the amount of cash she has is significantly more than her allowance.”
Don’t tell me some gold-digger married Mr. Moneybags and then started turning tricks when her allowance wasn’t what she expected. I guess getting a real job takes too much time and effort? Sounds crazy, but we get a lot of crazy here.
“And what makes you think the cash is the result of prostitution?” I have never said the word prostitute this much in my life.
He takes a moment to adjust his tie before answering. “I followed her.”
I don’t ask him what he saw. Judging by the color of his cheeks, I can figure it out. “If you know she’s involved with prostitution, what do you need us for?”
“I need proof she’s not only committing adultery but is in fact a prostitute.”
I don’t bother dancing around the subject. “Prenup requirement?”
“Yes.” He nods. “Now, can you help?”
Hailey decides it’s time to make her appearance. She walks out of her office. “Of course, we can help.” She extends her hand toward him. “I’m Hailey McGraw.”
After they shake hands, Hailey takes a seat next to him. “I can take pictures of your wife during her activities.”
“No, no, no. I read online someone has to engage in sex with her for it to be admissible in court.”
Hailey’s mouth drops open before she clears her throat and slams her mouth shut again. “Is your wife bi-sexual?” He inclines his head. “And you’re suggesting I have intercourse with her?”
“Either you or better yet.” He points to Phoebe who is now standing in the doorway of her office. “Her.”
I hear a chair squeak and heavy footfalls before Ryker appears behind Phoebe. He wraps an arm around her waist and draws her close. “This one is not having sex with anyone.”
“Not even you?” I can’t resist asking.
He ignores me. “And before you ask, I’m not having sex with your wife either.”
Mr. Cafferty looks Ryker up and down. “Too bad. You are definitely her type.”
Not what I was expecting to hear. Mr. Cafferty looks nothing like Ryker. Ryker is six-and-a-half feet tall whereas Mr. Cafferty is slightly shorter than Hailey who measures in at a measly five-feet-eight. Ryker also sports an out-of-control beard compared to Mr. Cafferty’s clean-shaven jaw.
Mr. Cafferty opens his mouth, but Ryker shuts him down. “We’re not having a threesome either.” Apparently, Ryker can read his mind as Cafferty frowns in obvious disappointment.
Total disclosure. The idea of Ryker in a threesome gives me the shivers. I would never poach my girl’s man, but there’s nothing wrong with a little material for my naughty dreams.
“Besides, your internet search was wrong. No one needs to have intercourse with your wife to convict her of prostitution. Prostitution in the state of Wisconsin is defined as offering or requesting non-marital sexual intercourse for anything of value. There’s no need to commit a sexual act to ensure conviction.”
Color me impressed. The bounty hunter knows his sex laws.
“Are you sure?” Mr. Cafferty asks.
“He is correct,” Hailey answers. Mr. Cafferty doesn’t look like he believes her. “If you want proof, I can call my fiancé. He’s a police detective.”
“Ah, no. It’s fine. I believe you.” It only took two people and an offer to call a cop, but sure now he believes us.
Everyone falls silent. Guess it’s up to me to make sure we acquire a new client. “Would you like us to take pictures of her activities?”
At his nod, Hailey stands. “Please come into my office and we can discuss this further.”
He follows her to her office, and she shuts the door. Like a little thing like a door will stop me. I roll my chair close to the door to listen. Their meeting quickly becomes boring, though. Talk about prices doesn’t interest me.
I roll my chair back under my desk and return to what I was doing when he arrived – obsessing over Grayson. His only response to my messages over the past days has been a thumbs-up emoji. Not okay.
Hailey escorts Mr. Cafferty out of her office a few minutes later. As soon as the door shuts behind him, she points at me. “Not a word.”
I widen my eyes in feigned innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”
Hailey snorts. “Don’t act innocent with me. I know you’re dying to make some kind of lame, corny joke.”
“I think you have me confused with your pops and uncles.”
Phoebe joins us. “What a weird situation. Do you get these types of requests often?”
At the sound of Phoebe’s voice, Lola barks and comes barreling out of Hailey’s office. She heads for Phoebe, jumps her, and commences humping her leg. Phoebe desperately tries to rid herself of the horny dog to no avail while Hailey giggles herself silly.
Suzie to the rescue! I take hold of Lola’s collar and yank her away from Phoebe. Lola is not happy being denied her love interest and strains against my grip. I slip and start to fall.
Confession – I can totally stop myself from falling at this point. It’s not difficult. But I don’t. I let myself fall on my ass. Phoebe’s face lights up at my fall.
“Klutzy Suzie strikes again,” she announces and offers me her hand to help me up.
I wave her away. I don’t need anyone’s help. I can stand by myself as well as I can fall by myself. I’ve had enough practice by this point.
Don’t get me wrong. I am somewhat of a klutz. Okay. Okay. I’m a big ‘ol klutz. But I am not nearly as klutzy as everyone thinks. Then, why do I act the fool? Let me explain. After Toby, the asshole did me wrong, I found myself in a depression. And not a little bit of a depression. No, I was walking around with the weight of an eight-gallon brew kettle on my shoulders.
Everyone kept giving me looks to make sure I was doing okay all the freaking time. And they weren’t sneaky about it. I was about done with everyone’s concern and tired of the uncles thinking up ways to kill my ex.
But then I fell. Honest to goodness fell when I slipped on the ice. Everyone laughed when my skirt flipped up and I mooned the entire city. You know what else they did? They stopped studying my every mood. Super klutzy Suzie was born.
Chapter 11
How do you know if someone likes craft beer? Don’t worry, they’ll tell you.
I smile when I open my door and discover Wally on my front porch. “Uncle Wally,” I greet and open the door wide. “Come on in.”
“Hey, kid. I thought I’d come see what this brew shack I keep hearing about looks like.”
Why is it everyone is now bound and determined to see my brew shack? A few months ago, hardly anyone knew about my brewing hobby. I blame Hailey. She had to tell Aiden about my beers. And now look! People are knocking down my door to check out my beer shack.
“Do you want a coffee or something else to drink?” I ask in the lamest attempt at stalling ever.
“I’m all full up,” he says and then looks at me expectantly. Told you – lamest stalling tactic ever.
“Fine,” I mumble and nab my keys to the brew shack.
We walk out the back door to the gar
age where I unlock the doors and usher him in. He whistles when he enters and gets a look at the place.
“This is more than a hobby, kid.”
I roll my eyes. What is it with everyone telling me I should change my career and become a brewer lately? Don’t they know I’m worried making a career of it will continually bring up memories of Toby the asshole? Memories I’ve worked my ass off to forget.
“Do you want the five-cent tour?”
He grunts and I show him around my brewing set-up. He makes comments at all the right times, but he’s obviously not paying much attention.
“All right. What’s going on?” I ask after I tell him I’m going to name my next beer The Penis Punisher and his only response is an absent-minded nod.
Wally is usually someone who is one-hundred percent present at all times. His eyes may wander constantly to make sure there are no threats about, but he always knows what’s happening in front of him.
“Oh god, it’s bad, isn’t it? Do you have cancer?” My eyes widen. “Or is it Hailey? Or Pops?” My breaths come faster and faster as I imagine a dozen harrowing situations.
“Calm down before you start hyperventilating.”
Too late. Wally places his hand on my neck and forces my head between my knees.
“Deep breaths. That’s it. Nice and easy.”
I take deep breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth until I can breathe like a normal person again and not like an overexcited pug. No judging. The Animal Planet channel rocks.
I collapse in a chair in the corner. “What’s going on?”
Wally stands in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”
“You couldn’t make up your mind before you came over here and scared me shitless?”
He scratches his head before admitting, “It’s about Grayson.”
I wrinkle my brow. “What about Grayson?” My eyes widen when I realize what’s going on. “You did the background check, didn’t you?” I jump to my feet. “Tell me. Tell me. Tell me.”
“Are you sure you want to invade his privacy in this way?”
I stop dancing around to gape at Wally. “Invade his privacy? But this is what we do. Anyone new who comes into our lives, you check out. You did a background check on Phoebe, remember?”
“Yes, after she came to me to ask me to help her.”
I snort. Does he think I’m stupid? “Tell it to another chump ‘cuz I ain’t buying. I know damn well and good you ran a background check on Phoebe before she came to you, but you didn’t get anywhere because you didn’t know her real name.”
It’s a long story – and super exciting full of kidnappings and drugging and stuff – but it turns out rich girl Phoebe was hiding one whopper of a story. It worked out in the end. The knight in shining armor – aka Ryker – saved the day and they fell in love. Blah. Blah. Blah.
“This is different.”
I tilt my head and study him. “Different how?”
“We know Grayson isn’t a danger to anyone.”
I raise an eyebrow. “And Phoebe was?”
“There were people in Phoebe’s life who were dangerous,” he points out.
“How do you know there aren’t people in Grayson’s life who are dangerous?” I rub my hands together as I warm to the idea. “Maybe there’s someone who’s after him for something he did. Like a warlord or maybe another enemy of some type.”
“Whoa!” Wally holds up his hands. “There’s nothing of the sort in his background.”
“Then you did do the check.” I knew it!
“You don’t like anyone digging into your past with Toby.”
I growl at his name. “We don’t talk about him.”
“Exactly. Grayson obviously doesn’t want to talk about his past. Otherwise, he would have told you about it.”
“But his past is affecting his present. He’s all depressed and living in filth.” Filth is a bit of an exaggeration but I’m making a point, darn it! “My history with Toby doesn’t affect me now.”
Wally crosses his arms and stares me down. “Really?”
I nod and pretend my cheeks aren’t burning. For good measure, I cross my fingers behind my back.
We stare at each other for a good thirty seconds. I count the ticking of the seconds from the clock on the wall. Damn it. He knows I have zero patience.
“Fine.” I stomp my foot. “If I admit, there’s the teeniest tiniest possibility Toby the king of the jerks affects my current situation, will you tell me what you found out?”
Wally makes me wait. They must teach patience techniques in the military. How can he resist my adorable pouting face otherwise?
“You should probably sit down for this.”
I bite my tongue before I can start sprouting one of my gazillion questions. I know if I speak now Wally will make me wait even more. And I am done with waiting. I take a seat and look up at him. The picture of decorum. Yeah, I didn’t believe those words either.
“When Grayson was in Afghanistan, he got sick with a bad case of diarrhea and couldn’t go out on patrol.”
Gross, but it happens.
“His buddy offered to take his patrol to allow Grayson to stay in the vicinity of a toilet.”
This all sounds pretty tame thus far. What’s the big secret? I don’t show my impatience, though. Wally is obviously building up to the grand reveal.
“The Humvee his buddy was in hit an IED and everyone in the vehicle was killed.”
I gasp. What a total bitch I am. I was practically rubbing my hands in excitement to hear the story. There’s nothing exciting about this. No, it’s tragic.
“Grayson’s buddy was married, and his wife had just given birth to a baby boy.”
My eyes well up with tears, but I fast blink to stop them from falling. Once I’m convinced I have control over my tear ducts, I speak. “It’s a tragic story, but I’m unsure what this has to do with how Grayson is acting.”
“Grayson blames himself. He’s the one who should have died not his buddy.”
“I call bullshit! He’s not god. He doesn’t decide who lives or dies. Who knows what would have happened if he went out on patrol? Maybe they would have taken a different route or maybe they would have hit a rock and driven around the IED.”
Obviously, I have no idea what I’m talking about.
“You’re not wrong, but this is how Grayson feels. It’s why he’s living in Milwaukee instead of heading back up north to his hometown.”
My forehead wrinkles. Grayson told me he moved to Milwaukee because there were more opportunities in the big city. Convenient.
“Okay. What are we going to do about this?”
Wally shakes his head. “You’re not going to do a thing. You’re going to leave him to figure this out for himself.”
Please. As if men know how to handle their feelings. Case in point? Pops still pines after Hailey’s mother although she left them nearly two decades ago without so much as a look back in her rearview mirror.
“I’m serious, Suzie Langley,” he says using a commanding voice that probably makes terrorists pee their pants. “You will leave the boy alone to sort through his problems.”
My full name and the commanding voice? He pulled out the big guns. Time to appease the super-secret soldier. Then, he’ll leave, and I can start to brainstorm a plan.
I grin up at him. “Of course, I understand. You’re a soldier. You know best how to handle these situations.” I pat his chest as I spew my lies.
He narrows his eyes as he studies me. I’m waiting for him to call me a liar, but I don’t give him the chance.
“Do you want to try my Session IPA? It’s a new recipe I’m trying.”
He grunts, which I interpret to mean, Why yes, Suzie, I would love to try one of your awesome beers.
“Come on,” I drag him to the tasting station.
While Wally oohs and aahs over my beer, my mind whirls around with idea after idea. How am I going
to fix Grayson? I don’t know, but I’ll figure it out. I always do.
Chapter 12
I fear my last words will be, hold my beer and watch this.
Step one in my Fix Grayson Plan is not proceeding according to plan. The girls and their men are going bowling tonight, but Grayson is refusing to get off his butt and join us. He must be genuinely depressed. He normally jumps at the chance to compete with Aiden and Ryker.
Come on. For me.
I type and add a GIF of a dog with great big puppy dog eyes for good measure. When I don’t get a response, I try again.
It’ll be fun. Promise.
I add another GIF of a baby girl with huge eyes begging.
If I say yes, will you stop sending me creepy GIFs?
Probably not. I do love me some creepy GIFs but of course, I lie.
Yep. I’ll pick you up in 5.
I’ll meet you there.
Fine. Whatever.
I give in because at least I finally convinced Grayson to get out of his house. Gee. I hope he showers. The look of his place when I visited does not evoke confidence in his hygiene habits.
When I arrive at the bowling alley, I look around the parking lot, but I don’t see Grayson’s truck anywhere. I debate waiting for him at the entrance for all of ten seconds. But I am not his girlfriend. And, more importantly, I am not pathetic. I walk inside and head toward the lane Hailey reserved.
“Hey, Suzie. Where’s your boyfriend?” Phoebe calls when I join them.
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“He’s a boy and he’s your friend, thus boyfriend.”
“That’s not the definition of boyfriend and you know it.” I show her my back to ask Hailey, “What happened to our shy Phoebe? I don’t like the new and improved Phoebe.”
Hailey hip checks me. “Sure, you do. You just don’t like it when she’s sassy with you.”
True. I love how Phoebe has come out of her shell. This Phoebe is way more fun than spoiled rich and scared little Phoebe, although spoiled little rich girl Phoebe was okay. She wasn’t as much fun is all.
Ryker hooks a hand around Phoebe’s neck and drags her close. “Give it a rest, will ya?”
A Soldier for Suzie: A Military Romantic Comedy (Love will OUT Book 3) Page 6
