How to Date Your Brother's Best Friend

by Karigan Hale

  "Lizzie?" a voice called. She spun around and saw Brendan standing by the door. "You okay?"

  "I'm fine. Everything's fine," she repeated.

  "Lizzie," he said more forcefully.

  "Brendan, I really can't handle another scolding right now. I just need some air, okay?" she said pacing away from him.

  "I'm not here to yell at you. I saw you run out of here like a banshee was chasing you. You want to talk about it?" he asked letting the door close behind him.

  Her lip trembled for a minute, but then she got herself together. "You don't hate me?"

  "No," he said with a half-smile. "Surprised and frustrated and even a little disappointed, sure. But I don't hate you, Lizzie. We just had a small fight. That happens with friends sometimes."

  "I'm so sorry I lied to you. Apparently, I'm obsessed with no one knowing about my money. I just finally found a place where people liked me for me," she said.

  "I'm sorry, too," he said rubbing her arm. "I over-reacted because of what happened with Dylan in the past."

  "I won't lie to you again. I swear," she said.

  "I believe you," he said smiling. "You know, Zander pretty much flung that bimbo off his lap as soon as you ran out. He tried to come after you, but I stopped him," he said.

  "Zander?" she asked trying to play it off. "Why would he matter?"

  "Lizzie, please. I've seen the way you two steal glances at each other all the time," he said.

  "I have no idea what you're talking about," she said. But her breath hitched giving her away.

  "Do you want me to kick his ass?" he asked.

  She laughed, but it turned into a sob. He pulled her into a hug. "I'm such an idiot," she said stifling her tears. One managed to sneak down her cheek, though.

  "No, Lizzie. He's the idiot."

  "And yet. Here I am crying in an alley. I've made a complete mess of things, Brendan. With you. With both Drake brothers," she said.

  "Wait? What happened with Xavier?" he asked. She filled him in on their fight.

  "Oh, Lizzie. He's the one over-reacting. His video has like a million likes already!" he said. "I've had a gaggle of giggly girls in here tonight asking when his shift starts or if he was playing again. I'll talk to him."

  "No, it's okay. I need to fix that, too," she said. " Before I lose them both." He squeezed her tighter.

  "I stand by my assessment: they are the idiots," he said. "Do you want to take the rest of the night off? We can certainly manage."

  "No," she said. Then more firmly, "No. I don't want to give them the satisfaction."

  "There's the Lizzie I know," he said releasing her. "Take a few more minutes. And a shot or two. Then come back in when you're ready."

  "Thanks, Brendan," she said wiping at her face. "For not giving up on me."

  "Anytime. Just try not to break any more glasses. I've cleaned up enough glass in the last week to last a lifetime."

  "No kidding," she said genuinely smiling. "I'll be in in a minute."

  He gave her a smile as the alley door shut behind him. She ran her hands through her hair and fortified herself to put on a happy face. The first drops of rain fell on her arms giving her a divine push to go back inside. Brendan's idea of some liquid courage wasn't a bad one. She rarely drank while she worked, but this was a special circumstance.

  After splashing cold water on her face, downing a shot of whiskey—okay, two shots of whiskey—Lizzie walked back into the bar room. Zander waited right beside the swinging door. She almost ran right into him.

  "I guess you didn't suffocate after all," she said brushing by him. Anger was a better emotion than hurt. And much less embarrassing. He didn't deserve her hurt.

  "Lizzie, let me explain. It's not what it looked like," he said.

  She raised her eyebrows, "It looked like she was about to open her mouth and swallow you whole."

  "I didn't—" he started, but she cut him off. "Listen, Zander. You don't owe me any explanation. We were casual not exclusive. If you want to fuck the entire DC Metro area who am I to judge? I just wish you wouldn't do it in my bar. We're trying to run a classier establishment. Despite your girl-toy's assessment."

  "Lizzie," he trailed behind her as she went to clear some empties from the tables and high tops.

  "Zee, I'm working okay. And I think your date is going to explode if you don't get back to her soon. She may just jiggle right out of her dress." They both looked over to where Tiffany stared daggers at Lizzie while tapping her foot incessantly on the bar stool.

  "Not my date," Zander said. "I didn't even know she was coming to DC."

  "Whatever Zander. I just wish you hadn't used me to cheat on your girlfriend," she said and almost choked on the last part.

  "Dammit, Lizzie," Zander said grabbing her arm and pulling her around so she faced him. The bottles in her hand were sandwiched between them. She could practically feel the fire in his eyes. Their faces were inches apart. "She and I are not together. I don't want her. How many times do I need to say it?" He leaned in a heartbeat closer. His eyes softened a fraction. She held her breath as her head warred with her heart. "You're the one—"

  "Zanny, darling," Tiffany's voice rang out behind him. Her hand snaked its way onto his shoulder and yanked him backward with surprising force. "There you are. Did you tell the waitress our good news?"

  Lizzie swallowed. Zander closed his eyes. Tiffany beamed. She reached into her purse and shoved a stack of pictures into Lizzie's face.

  "We're pregnant!" she squealed in her Southern drawl. "I just couldn't wait for Zanny here to get back home to Atlanta to tell him the good news."

  Lizzie felt like she might throw-up. This was a bad dream, right? She was in someone else's nightmare. Or her own nightmare. One look at Zander's stricken, guilty face confirmed this was, in fact, real life—her life at the moment.

  She swallowed and nodded her head. "Well, Zanny," she said with a bit of bite. Zander pinched his eyes closed. "I wish you all the best. Excuse me."

  She elbowed her way to the bar counter and threw the bottles she still held into the recycle bin with more force than necessary. Brendan placed another shot in front of her. Lizzie tried to wave it away, but he said, "You deserve it. Get nasty drunk. Have a good cry. And then forget about the bastard."

  "He's leaving any way," Lizzie said downing the shot. "Our arrangement is temporary. I just thought it would end when he left. Not this way."

  "It doesn't give him the right to flaunt his new fling right in front of you," Brendan said.

  "I really want to punch her in her fake tits," Lizzie admitted.

  "You get one; I'll get the other?" Brendan asked making Lizzie smile.

  "I wish. Apparently, she's pregnant. With Zander's baby," Lizzie explained. Pregnant. Zander had made a baby with that bitch. They were tied together forever. Any small hope she had of maybe convincing him to stay just left the building. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars.

  "I think I'll take another shot," Lizzie said as she watched Zander hold the door open for Tiffany. He gave her one last regretful look on his way out. "Make it a double."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Lizzie spent Sunday night tossing and turning in bed. Even Peabody finally got fed up with her restlessness and curled up in his cat bed on the floor instead of his usual spot by her feet. Not even the repetitive sound of the rain helped to soothe her unsettled mind.

  She then spent Monday ignoring Zander's texts. She didn't really want an explanation. She wanted him to go back to Atlanta, so she could pretend the last two weeks didn't happen. He was a persistent bastard, though, texting her or calling her several times an hour. And for what reason? He had his perfectly coiffed baby mama to keep him entertained.

  Occasionally, despite her best efforts, she would remember the fire in his eyes as he gripped her to him in the bar last night. I don't want her, he'd said with such conviction. She remembered the way he said her name in his sleep. Her name, not Tiffany's.

&
nbsp; Of course, those memories were overshadowed by the image of Tiffany on Zander's lap. And of her stupid sonogram pictures. A baby! She couldn't compete with that.

  These images kept seesawing around her brain all day and even into her shift. At least Xavier was off tonight, so she didn't have to deal with him, too. He'd been the one to take his video off the bar's social media accounts when she got caught up in Zander's baby drama. She could even try to mend their relationship by taking it down herself. And, like she predicted, other patrons had already shared it or posted their own videos of him everywhere, too. He'd become locally insta-famous with his popularity growing by the minute.

  Monday's at McConnell's were usually a slow day especially after happy hour. Tonight was no different. She both welcomed the reprieve after two very busy and emotionally draining days over the weekend. But she also wished for a distraction from her thoughts. Maybe she needed a rebound. Maybe some totally handsome hunk would wander into the bar and demand he take her to bed. He would worship her and be her sex slave. And do the laundry.

  The bar door opened, and she shifted her gaze expectantly. Maybe wishes do come true!

  Instead it was the last person she wanted to see. No, strike that. Zander was followed by the last person she wanted to see. Tiffany.

  Why would he bring her back here? To rub in her face how little she meant to him all along? That wasn't like the Zander she knew. Yet here they were.

  She rolled her eyes and turned to get them their orders. When they took the same seats as last time, she placed the club soda and a beer in front of them. "Would you like menus?" she asked flatly.

  "Lizzie, you've been ignoring my calls and texts," he said.

  "She's who you've been texting all day?" Tiffany asked incredulously. "The waitress?"

  Zander ignored her. "I need to talk to you."

  Lizzie gave a half-laugh. "And I need you to just let it go." She walked away and went to empty the trash cans. They didn't really need it, but she needed an excuse to stay busy and out of earshot. Something about Tiffany's voice made her skin crawl. Despite her best efforts, her stupid eyes kept darting over to their end of the bar. At one point, Tiffany's seat was empty. Lizzie hoped for good. Zander stared right at her with such longing, she felt it straight to her lady bits. He held her gaze. And held it.

  And held it. Each second tunneled the walls and faded everything else to black. He mouthed her name, and his eyes darkened. Her heart flip-flopped with unfounded hope. She couldn't take it any longer and did what she did best in these situations lately—ran away.

  Brendan stopped her in the back hallway with a shit-eating grin on his face.

  "Please tell me you have good news. I could use some good news," she said.

  "The best news. The police caught the bastards!" he said. She waited for him to literally jump for joy, but he contained himself.

  Jerry stuck his head out of the kitchen. "Did I just hear what I think I heard?"

  "The police caught the kids that wrecked out place," Brendan repeated.

  Jerry let out a whoop. "I can't wait to hear all about it, but I've got wings in the deep fryer and kale steaming." He disappeared again.

  "Do we know them? How'd the police find them? Was it the punks that customer was talking about? Will they have to pay for the damages?" Lizzie rapid fired questions at him.

  "Whoa, Lizzie," Brendan laughed. "Slow down. I'll tell you everything."

  The police followed up on Alejandro's tip about his little brother's friends. Not only did they know who had vandalized the bar, they also had video evidence to back it up. A few hours in holding was enough to scare them into ratting out the kids who'd done it. They were bored and high and strolling the neighborhood. When they saw the televisions and liquor inside McConnell's, they dared each other to see how easy it would be to break in. A few swift kicks on the door gained them entry. And, as young boys will be young boys, they couldn't help but smash a few things while they were in there. And video themselves doing it.

  "Just some punks from the neighborhood. Nothing personal," he said.

  "I'm so glad this is over. And we don't have to worry about a repeat offense," Lizzie said smiling for the first time that day. "This was just the news I needed right now."

  "I'm going to compile our damage report and invoices. We may be able to recoup some of your money, and the bar's," Brendan said disappearing into his office again.

  Just when she was ready to wallow in her misery for the foreseeable future, the universe had a way of shining a beacon of hope into her darkness. This development, along with her reconciliation with Brendan, could be the turning point to getting her life back on track. And in two short days, Zander and Tiffany would be out of her life as well. Then, back to normal. Or her new normal after experiencing the force of Zander.

  Wanting to enjoy this slice of happiness a little longer, she avoided the bar room—and therefore the happy couple—by collecting the trash. Yup, trash trumped Tiffany's tits. Lizzie giggled at her alliteration as she opened the door to the alley to take the trash to the dumpster. After dropping it in, she took a minute—away from the dumpster—to take a deep breath and calm her heart. A heart she now admitted was in this—whatever this was—with Zander further than she originally planned. She was heartbroken. And in order to be heart broken, she had to be heart full in the first place. Damn him. Or really damn herself for agreeing to this stupid arrangement in the first place when she knew she'd be unable to keep her feelings out of it.

  She grabbed the handle of the door to step back inside when Zander's name caught her attention.

  "Zander bought it hook, link, and sinker. I knew he would," a voice said from a little further up the alley. It had to be Tiffany given the strong southern accent. Although her voice was less whiny and high-pitched without Zander around. Lizzie crept a little closer to listen.

  "He's a good guy. I knew he'd do the right thing. Thanks for the pictures, by the way," she said. Then laughed at something. She must be on the phone since Lizzie couldn't hear anyone else's voice.

  "Well, it seems like I got here right in time. He's all gushy over some local bartender. Can you imagine? She doesn't even have a figure. Looks like a little boy, if you ask me," Tiffany said laughing. Lizzie covered her mouth, so she didn't scream an obscenity. She wasn't super girly, but she did NOT look like a boy. At least she didn't look like a hooker.

  "Obviously after we're married, the miscarriage will bring us even closer together. Maybe I'll have a complication, so I won't be able to get pregnant again. I don't want some parasite messing up my body. I haven't decided yet," she said.

  "That bitch!" Lizzie whispered. She made up the entire thing!

  "God, I need a real drink. Club soda just isn't cutting it. I'll order something at the hotel bar if we ever leave this hole in the wall." Tiffany paused presumably to listen to the other caller.

  "Yup," Tiffany said. "I'll keep you posted for sure. Start planning my bridal shower," she giggled. "But hold off on the baby shower, 'cause you know."

  Shit. Tiffany was about to hang up. She hustled back into the bar via the kitchen entrance. She stood against the door, hand over her heart, breathing hard. She had to tell Zander. But would he believe her? Or would he just think she was another crazy girl competing for his attention. If only she'd thought to record Tiffany on her phone.

  Dammit. She needed proof.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  "Lizzie, you okay?" Jerry asked. She blinked him into focus forgetting she wasn't entirely alone.

  "You have kids, right, Jer?" she asked.

  "They're all grown now," he said, flipping the burgers on the grill with one hand while simultaneously mixing some potatoes with the other. "Why? You thinking 'bout having some?"

  "Not any time soon," she said. "When your wife was pregnant, did she have sonograms?"

  "Sure did. Freakiest thing to see that little bean inside her belly."

  "Do you remember what information was on the sonog
ram?" she asked. She vaguely remembered official looking notations on the ones other customers had shown her. If she could get Zander to look at them more closely, maybe there would be a name or a date or something.

  "Lots of information. I don't remember what specifically. It's been quite a lot of years," he said. "Hand me that, will you?" He pointed to a tray on the counter in the middle of the room with the spatula. She put it next to him so he could put the finished burgers into it.

  "I'll have to look it up," she said, taking the bowl of mashed potatoes from him to finish mixing in the rest of the ingredients for the Shepard's pie.

  "Why the sudden interest?" he asked. She told him about what she overheard in the alleyway as they finished the current list of orders.

  "So, I figure if I had proof she lied, Zander would be more likely to believe me," she concluded.

  "If that fool doesn't take your word over that dimwit even without proof, he's an even bigger idiot than I originally thought," Jerry said.

  "Thanks for the support, Jer," she said warmly.

  Just then Brendan stuck his head in the kitchen. "Lizzie? I have a phone call from the police to tie up some loose ends. Can you help Gabby on the floor?"

  "Of course. I was just taking out the trash," she said. She patted Jerry on the arm, washed her hands, and followed Brendan back out into the bar room.

  Tiffany was back in her spot hanging all over Zander. He sat stiff and uncomfortable beside her. Lizzie couldn't help but glower at her even though it was childish and petty. Tiffany smiled smugly back and ran her hand up and down Zander's arm. Zander nursed his beer and leaned away from her.

  Oh yeah, Lizzie thought. Eat it up now. Soon enough her smug smile would be wiped right off her face.

  All throughout the night, Lizzie could feel Zander's eyes on her. Every time she was forced to help them with their drinks, Tiffany's whine got stronger and louder.

  "Can't we go now, babe? Growing a human is tiring work," she pouted rubbing her obviously flat stomach. Lizzie rolled her eyes.