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"He'd do it under that anonymous feature like we don't know it's him," she mutters, laughing when I do. "I'll take a diet and Jack."
I make her drink, and flag her down closer to Mac. She reluctantly gets up from her seat and takes the one directly beside him.
“Mac, this is Riley. Riley, this is Mac."
"We've met before," Riley says, but she still holds her hand out to him.
He looks down at it for a long moment before he lifts his to shake hers.
"We've met?"
Riley rolls her eyes as she releases a long sigh, picking up her drink and damn near draining the thing in one swallow.
"Not very memorable, am I?"
"That's not what I meant at all," Mac stammers. "I just... my memory is shit."
"Is that why you didn't take my advice about reaching out to her about that catering job you needed?" I ask him.
"Oh!" he says, snapping his fingers. "You're that Riley. I left a message and she never called back."
He says the words to me instead of directing them at her.
I watch as her eyes narrow to slits. "You wanted me to cater chicken and dumplings. If memory serves me correctly, you urged me to kidnap Ruth and make her give me the recipe before saying that it didn't matter because no one could ever make chicken and dumplings the way Ruth does. Then you burped and told me never mind. All in the same message. Did you really expect a callback?"
"Wow," I say, taking a step back because I didn't know what a can of worms I was opening up. "That's a lot to unpack."
"Clearly I was drunk," he mutters, as if that made a difference.
"Mac," I say, my voice marked with disappointment.
He's a grown man and knows better than to act like that.
He shrugs as he looks at me. "Are you going to tell me that you think she can make better chicken and dumplings than Ruth?"
I see several people in the bar hear him and turn their attention in our direction. I know to tread lightly.
"Ruth makes the best chicken and dumplings I’ve ever tasted,” I say, nodding to several of the men staring at me.
“See!” Mac says, as if my opinion is the end-all be-all of opinions. I almost open my mouth to tell him I also enjoy tuna directly from the can without even putting salt and pepper on it, but what's the point? He just wants to be right.
"There is more to food than sauce and lumps of raw dough," Riley growls.
"You take that back!" Mac snaps, sounding like a child arguing with a sibling. "You expect people to eat escargot and crap like that. The only people in town willing to eat that mess are junior high boys on a dare."
Her eyes widen as if he just slapped her in the face. "Mac Hammer!"
He doesn't bother to look even a little ashamed when he grins around the mouth of his bottle before draining it and asking for another.
I take a step back, grabbing a beer from the cooler and handing it to him. I want to apologize for even getting involved, but the front door opens and a rowdy group of college students enter.
By the time I think of it again, Riley and Mac are gone and there’s a pile of cash on the bar top to pay for both of their drinks.
Chapter 38
Claire
If I was on cloud nine with just the heater working in my car, I was in another dimension after leaving the attorney's office this morning.
