Chase

I’m grinning to myself, pacing and waiting for Bro when Parker flings my door open. It bounces off the wall and snaps off its hinges. “You.”

Mavis hustles after her. “She took down two security guards,” she tells me, but unless I’m mistaken, there’s more than a hint of pride in her voice. “Probably could’ve gotten four more.”

“Damn right I could,” Parker says.

I quit pacing and blink at both of them. My heart’s suddenly in my throat. I should fire her, but she’s Bro’s best friend, and right now, I need to know this isn’t about Bro. “Talk.”

“The fucking Bratwurst Wagon? First you throw Vassar at her, and now the fucking Bratwurst Wagon.”

My secretary looks like she wants a bowl of popcorn. I flick my wrist and give her the get lost or get fired glare.

Miraculously, it works.

She tries to shut the door, but it lists off its hinge and swings open again.

“What,” I grit out, “are you talking about?”

“Oh, please. Who else is going to park the Bratwurst Wagon in front of our building?”

In three steps, I’m staring out the window at the street below.

Sure enough, there’s the giant bratwurst on wheels, right across from the stretch Hummer I ordered. Bro told me yesterday after we got stuck in a weird position in the back of the Towncar that if she’s going to blow me in a car, she’s going to do it in a fucking stretch Hummer, so I got her a fucking stretch Hummer.

Swear to God, the mutant bratwurst wasn’t parked there a minute ago.

“What the hell is that monstrosity doing on my street?” I growl.

“Exactly what you told it to do?” Parker suggests. “Torment Sia until she’d finally quit and leave you and your tar-ridden soul to run your little organic empire in peace?”

And there goes my heart, flopping and gasping about like a lake trout being eaten alive by mosquitoes. “Sit. Lose the attitude. And if someone doesn’t fucking tell me what the hell Vassar means, I’m going to take away your beanbag chairs and replace them with vinyl bench seats made in China.”

She gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“Do you know what I am?” I say.

“A dick?” she guesses.

It’s all I can do to not gouge out my own eyeballs. “A man. With good intentions but limited understanding of the female language. I also skipped mind-reading in college, so you’re going to have to start speaking in words that make sense, or I can’t fucking fix this. Vassar. Now. What does it mean?”

She gapes at me. “You seriously don’t know?”

I try to claw matching chunks out of my desk with my bare hands.

It doesn’t work.

“Sia got kicked out of Vassar for the Bratwurst Wagon incident,” she whispers. “She had to leave Minnesota and go live with some distant relative to go to community college in Pennsylvania after she did her nights in jail and community service hours.”

I drop into my chair, an understanding of where I went wrong Friday night finally worming its way into my brain. Makes sense now why Google wasn’t helpful.

She never made it there.

“How did you not know that?” she demands.

“I had a few other problems on my hands back then,” I grit out. “Why’s the Bratwurst Wagon parked out front?”

“I don’t know. I thought you knew. You know there’s a restraining order prohibiting Sia from getting within a hundred yards of it for the rest of her life, right?”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Yes, it is.”

“A vehicle can’t get a restraining order. It’s not human.”

“You tell that to your backwoods Minnesota sheriff.”

I shove to my feet again. “Where’s Ambrosia?”

“If I knew that, do you think I’d be up here?”

My phone rings on my desk. Eight messages beep on my email. My cell sings some Aretha.

Mom’s calling. Bro’s gone. And I have to get rid of the Bratwurst Wagon.

“She told the whole department about what happened between you two,” Parker says. She turns around. “And she didn’t leave out anything. Serves you right. You never should’ve bought her store.”

“I’m going to fix this,” I tell her.

She shakes her head and frowns at me. “I don’t think you can.”

I want to argue, but I’m afraid she’s right.

Where Bro’s concerned, the only two things I’m good at are fucking her, and fucking her over.