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NOLAN
It’s Tuesday afternoon and I’m in my office at the bar as raindrops pummel the window. The plan is to catch up on some admin work until it’s time to pick Stella up from school.
I’m still feeling grumpy over where things stand with Inez and me. But now that a few days have passed, I don’t feel quite as prickly as I did on Saturday night.
The local news talk station plays on low, reporting on the deteriorating condition of the local elementary school. Apparently, when it rained over the weekend, the ceiling started leaking which resulted in a major flood in the gymnasium.
Alarmed, my head snaps up. Good god—I send my kid to that place everyday. Is it even safe?
The PTA association is putting pressure on the school board for an immediate solution and the teachers’ union organized a protest that took place at lunchtime today.
What a mess.
“The school board and their higher-ups are trying to cut corners here, thinking they can do whatever they want in our small town,” one parent is saying in the clip now playing on the radio. “But if they don’t do something about it, our kids will suffer and some really good teachers are going to leave Starlight Falls for better jobs in the city.”
Just thinking about this whole mess gives me an instant migraine. It’s yet another ‘something’ to worry about and I’m not sure how much more stress my head can take.
Needing a quick drink of water, I get up and head behind the bar. I’m taken aback to find that all my siblings are here. All of them.
My gaze bounces from Karli and Felix to Archer and Darius to Ronan. What the heck?
“There he is,” Felix says, not looking too happy to see me. “We were just about to come to your office and drag you out here.”
I frown, stalking over to where they’ve shoved two tables together in the middle of the bar. “What’s going on?”
“Impromptu family meeting,” Ronan announces, no nonsense in his tone.“Didn’t you get the text messages?”
“Huh?” I dig my silenced phone out of my pocket and glance at the screen. Sure enough, our sibling group chat is overflowing with message notifications.
Alarmed, my eyes dart around the mashed-together tables. I plant my fists on my hips, already pissed at these hell-raisers. “So, which one of you idiots is in trouble this time?”
“You are,” Archer quips dryly.
My neck rears back. “Me?” I stab a finger into the middle of my chest. “What did I do?”
Karli holds up a magazine in my face. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing but a gossip rag. One of those colorful celebrity-filled tabloids they sell at the pharmacy checkout counter. My eyes bounce around, trying to read the cover to figure out what the hell this has to do with me.
And then I see it. And my heart stops.
“Your girl is a celebrity,” Karli says, eyeballing me cautiously. “And from the look on your face in this picture, you’re a lovestruck superfan.”
Pulse racing, I take the tabloid from her, speed-reading the article while my siblings watch me with varying degrees of concern and amusement.
The Bride Who Ran Away From America’s Hottest Bachelor:Who is Inez Machado REALLY?
Part of me feels shitty for even reading past that point. I shouldn’t give these vultures my attention. I shouldn’t disrespect Inez by indulging in this shit.
I read just enough to get the gist of the story. According to the magazine, Inez is the ruthless runaway bride who jilted the most desirable bachelor in America, leaving the poor man miserable and heartbroken. Blah. Blah. Blah.
Then the article digs into Inez’s background. Foster kid. Small town girl. Bartender.There are even some candid shots of Inez working at the bar. Last week.
My blood runs cold when I also spot a photo that was taken at the insect exhibition. Inez is clearly the focus of the picture, but just past her is a blurry glimpse of me holding Stella’s hand in the background.
Fuck.
My vision goes red. I look back at the top of the page and read the byline. There’s a tiny photo next to the so-called writer’s name. It’s the same asshole stalker guy who was following us around at the exhibit, pretending to take bug photos.
I knew it! I knew something was up with that bastard!
