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Ella-Mae waved to me from the far side as I scooted through the maze of tables to the corner pool area. I waved back, lest she try to intercept me on my way to the girls.
Anna made a face when I arrived. “Hey, Boone. You know the rules. No crashing girls’ night.” She waved her hand. “Get lost.”
I ignored her, leaned close, and spoke softly to Jordan. “I might need your help in a minute.”
“What with?” she asked.
“There might be a fight,” I whispered.
With hands on her hips, Anna wasn’t having any of this. “What’s going on? We have another rule—no fucking whispering secrets to your brother’s girl.” She laughed.
Backing away, I pointed at Jordan. “But not until I ask.”
Jordan gave a shrug and whispered to Anna as I turned away.
The asshole wasn’t here yet, so I marched to the hallway that held the restrooms and pushed open the door to the ladies’ bathroom without a knock.
Ella-Mae jumped from her position leaning over the counter toward the mirror. Her brow uncreased, and a smile appeared. “Hey, Boone. You sure know how to improve a girl’s day.”
The room smelled like vomit.
Looking past her to Pris and a scared Angela, I said, “Ella-Mae, you need to leave.”
Her grin grew, and she sauntered my way. “Commanding. I like that in a man.”
I held off my eye roll. “Out now, Ella-Mae. I need to talk to my sister.”
She put a hand on my arm as she passed. “I’ll wait for you outside.”
“Don’t. But get a beer on me,” I told her as the door closed behind her.
Pris dabbed a wet paper towel over the ends of Angela’s hair. “We missed a spot.”
Angela looked like she’d been through the ringer, and the smell in here confirmed it.
I’d been so wound up about her not listening to my apology before that the words spilled out. “I still need to apologize,” I told Angela. “I thought it was you.”
“Jesus H. Christ,” Pris said as she threw the wet paper towel at me. “This isn’t fucking about you. You can grovel later. Her ex is probably out there already.”
Appropriately chastised by my stupid sister, I shifted gears. “Not yet. Tell me what’s going on.”
“Go ahead. Tell him.” Pris prodded Angela.
She crossed her arms tight. “It’s…”
When she didn’t continue, Pris did something very un-Pris-like. “I’ll guard the door while you two talk.”
Nervously, I leaned against the counter. “Why is he here?”
Angela didn’t start until the door closed behind Pris. “Kevin is coming or already here, and he’s pissed.” She twisted a lock of hair.
“I got that part.”
She tightened her arms around herself. “I have to go back with him to Boston.” Her voice lacked conviction.
“You’re the one who told meyou don’t have to do shit. Is that really what you want?” I hoped for a no, but was disappointed when she looked down and scraped a shoe across the tile.
“I don’t have a choice,” she answered.
