The first time I met Connie and Bridget was the night our plane landed at the airport from Vegas.
Pharis and I were coming down the escalator headed to baggage claim when I saw two girls holding up a banner.
Because my wife loved to talk about her best friends, I knew the petite brunette with wavy hair and heavy makeup was the rambunctious Connie. The taller girl with dirty blonde hair, heels, looking dressed for the club was the oddly shy Bridget. Breaking from me, Pharis ran to her girls taking them both down in a tackle. From there it was hair, swearing, and a lot of skin.
Bending down, I grabbed the sign, held it up, and laughed.
Because in big bold print it said: Are you pregnant?
All day I had been drooling over the sight of Pharis in tight jeans, plunging blouse, and pointy-toed flats.
This woman was so sexy and unaware it was a deadly combo for me.
Walking the streets, going bar to bar, talking, laughing, subtly touching, and getting back to us.
We both needed it, and I won’t lie, the alcohol did its job of relaxing her.
Because she was right, we did have a past we needed to talk about if we had any plans of making the future work.
So, after a long perfect day, my plan was to get her back here and naked as quickly as possible.
But that plan was thwarted when we pulled up to Connie and Bridget boozing it up on her back porch.
I should mention they did this a lot, and I always loved that our friends were so devoted.
Well, until they cockblocked me, that is.
Now it was war.
“Shit,” she said exhaling. “I forgot about happy hour.”
“Clearly, they didn’t.”
“The only reason one of us would forget is if we were dead or dating our ex-husband.”
Because the three drink-a-teers were staunch advocates for happy hour. Between Aaron, Butch, and myself we all picked their drunk asses up so many times I’d lost count.
“It happens at your place now?” I asked, parking next to her car.
“Depends,” she shrugged. “You know we don’t drink and drive.”
And she didn’t have me or the guys driving her anymore either. Jesus, my list of failures was getting longer by the minute. The guys and I used to flip for it, and I always loved it when I won the toss because Pharis would stumble into my arms and stay there.
Side by side, we approached the porch with Connie glaring and Bridget looking concerned.
Did I mention they didn’t like me much these days?
“Ladies,” I said as kindly as possible without showing my teeth. Because telling them to go the fuck home wouldn't help my cause.
“Mhmm,” Connie said, dismissing me with Bridget muttering my name.
“I’m gonna grab a beer. What can I get you, superstar?”
Looking unsure of herself, she answered, “Vodka?”
“You’re not sure?” I teased.
“Vodka would be great,” Connie added. “Make it a double. Looks like she needs it.”
“Here we go,” Bridget winced.
Refusing to argue with Connie, I stepped around them, used Pharis’ key, and headed inside.
I was almost to the kitchen when I saw an envelope on her hallway table.
Ripping it open, I scanned the paper twice before stuffing it in my pocket. Quickly making Pharis a strong vodka soda, I headed back outside to deliver it. “What time did you two get here?” I asked the duo.
“I don’t know,” Bridget said slowly. “Maybe, twenty minutes before you did?”
“Did you go inside?”
“No,” Connie answered with bite. She was not Team Eddie anymore. “We haven’t broken the seal yet. Why?”
Sidling up to Pharis I explained, “I need to run by the station, I won’t be long.”
“We’ve got time on the truth clock,” she said eyeing me. “What’s going on?”
“Work,” I lied. “I won’t be long. Enjoy happy hour, okay?”
“Uh huh,” she nodded clearly not believing me.
Knowing she was safe with her girls, I offered my goodbyes, hauling ass to Aaron’s place.
Thirty minutes later, after a long overdue detailed explanation of our split, Aaron was as furious and concerned as I.
“Did you tell her?”
“No. I didn’t want to ruin happy hour.” Or my chances with her...
“Eddie,” he groaned. “Come on, that’s a cop-out and you know it. Don’t make the same mistakes twice. She has a right to know.”
“I’ll tell her when the time is right.”
“This is so fucked up,” Aaron said, rereading the letter out loud.
We’re going to find out if your scream is as pretty as you are
I’ve been practicing for this moment for so long
Shh
Relax
It will all be over soon
“He must know her,” he finished, but I was thinking whoever this was knew me.
Running my hands through my hair in frustration I reminded them, “She works in a male-dominated field. She has a large fan base. It could be fucking anyone.” It could be Casanova.
“First, we talk to the neighbors. Then we need to really look into her dates,” he said, grabbing his keys. “She’s had four so far and the tatted one showed real interest.”
“Let me guess, pillow talk with Connie?”
Ignoring my jab, he said, “Let’s go sweep her place. Whoever broke in got back in far too easily, twice.”
“Fuck, I should have thought of that.”
Slapping me hard on the back, he said, “True. But I’m not thinking with my dick, you are.”
With that, we drove back to Pharis and the girls, dialing Butch on the way.