Page 48 of The Wedding Party

“Maybe you should get drunk after we talk,” I suggest.

“I’m a multitasker. You get me a good bottle, and I can down half of it by the time we’re done talking. And I’ll even share if you want.”

A waiter walks by and Brody waves a hundred-dollar bill at him, and when the man halts in front of him, he palms him the cash. “That’s for you. Can you grab me a Macallan 25, three fingers, and charge it to room 318, brother?”

The waiter’s pleasure with his tip perks him up with a happy vibe, and he quickly agrees, but Brody holds up a staying hand and eyes me. “I showed restraint, Agent. A glass, not a bottle. And I did it all for you.”

“Am I supposed to be impressed?”

“Try it. You will be, if not in me, in my choice of whisky. Twenty-five is the sweet spot. It’s on me.”

“I’ll pass,” I say, but I eye the waiter and lift a finger toward the main hotel. “We’ll be at the couches in the lobby.”

The waiter nods his understanding, and I motion Brody in the intended direction. Once we’re settled on a brown leather couch, a good space between us, he lifts his chin toward the main stairwell directly in front of us. “It’s supposed to be haunted. I hope like fuck Oliver won’t be stuck in this shithole for eternity.”

“You were close,” I say.

His eyes meet mine. “Like brothers from the day we met at a charity walk, twelve years ago.”

“And yet you hadn’t spoken in months until this weekend,” I comment. “Why?”

“I slept with Carrie,” he blurts out with no hesitation.

Chapter Forty

Brody slept with Carrie.

I blanch with this unexpected discovery, and he adds, “It’s not as bad as it sounds. They were on a break, and I didn’t know who the hell she was.”

“How did you not know who she was?” I ask. “I thought you were like brothers?”

“I went to Germany for three months for some medical training I combined with some rest and relaxation named Sheila. When I got back, I went to an all-night coffee shop and bar, got down and dirty in the bathroom with some chick, and that was that.”

“It was Carrie,” I assume.

“Yeah, but I wouldn’t know that until weeks later. Oliver and I go to drinks to catch up, and I find out he and some chick named Carrie had gotten hot and heavy and then broke up, but he was pretty messed up over it. It was the first time I’d ever seen him let a woman get under his skin.”

“Why’d they break up?”

“From what he said, she felt intimidated by his family. Natalie, his sister, is a bitch, and while his parents are great people, they’re intimidating as fuck. You’ll find out soon enough.”

I almost laugh. The Phoenixes have nothing on my father.

The waiter arrives with his whisky, and Brody, for all his bravado, is gracious with the man. Once we’re alone, I press for more. “What happened next?”

“A month after I’m back from my trip, Oliver invites me to dinner. Imagine my surprise when Carrie is not only there, but she has a ring on her finger.”

“That was fast,” I comment.

He snorts. “She knows how to get to the point, as proven in the coffee shop bathroom.”

An accurate statement, I think. “What did you do?”

“Played it cool that night. Told her she was a bitch when I had the chance. And then I kept my mouth shut. And thus, the birth of my hostility for Carrie.”

“Were they actually broken up at the time she slept with you?”

“I couldn’t ask him that question and not be found out, but from what I pieced together, it’s a maybe yes and maybe no. But either way, he was crying over her, she was fucking me. I get the vibe from her. She’d do it again, me and someone else. She’s a bitch.”