CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
R eid
I’m ignoring the fact that I dragged Randall to Tin Anchor because I thought there was a chance I’d see Miss Starling here.
It is Friday night, after all, and I did spot her holding hands with a bartender the last time I was here.
That’s not the case tonight, though. My assistant is nowhere in sight. Neither is the tattooed bartender. I don’t take comfort in that, even though none of it is my goddamn business.
“You look pissed,” Randall points out as he samples the drink he ordered.
I opted for a bottle of domestic beer. Randall requested an old fashioned. From the expression on his face, the bartender working tonight did an adequate job.
“Tired.” I glance over my shoulder toward the entrance. “It’s been a hell of a long week.”
“I’ll say.” He leans back in the chair he’s sitting in.
I directed him to a table instead of the bar because we need to talk. As much as I want to jump head first into a discussion about Azelius, I need to get some best man business out of the way first.
“Have you given much thought to a bachelor party?” I toss the question out.
I could have taken Donovan’s advice and planned a trip to Las Vegas, but other than Randall’s immediate family, I don’t know any of the people he’s been hanging out with for the past decade and a half. Even if I wanted the bachelor party to be a surprise, I’d need his help, or at the very least, his fiancée’s. There’s a huge problem with that since I don’t even know the woman’s name.
“That’s a weird coincidence,” he comments before he sips from his glass again.
“What is?”
“I was going to talk to Charlotte about that this weekend.”
I’d ask who Charlotte is, but I’m hoping that’s the woman he’s planning on marrying. I’ll let him continue to fill in the blanks for me.
“About the bachelor party?” I ask to lead the conversation down the path I need it to go.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Remember that house in East Hampton we went to that summer when we were kids?”
I barely recall anything about that trip other than the look of pure bliss on my grandma’s face as she stood on the sand when the waves covered her feet. My grandpa had to work, so he couldn’t make the trip, but my grandma happily accepted the invitation from Randall’s folks.
The house they rented had more bedrooms than anyone could ever need, but they were all filled for those couple of weeks that July.
“I vaguely remember it,” I admit.
“You’ll get a refresher because we’re heading up there with a few of my friends for a weekend before the wedding.”
I smile because that saves me a hell of a lot of planning and money. “Sounds good to me.”
“A short break will be good,” he says. “I’ve been so busy with work stuff that I haven’t even had time to devote to helping Charlotte plan the wedding.”
From what I’ve heard, that work stuff includes selling off a company I want. I resist the urge to make him an offer on Azelius right here and now.
“I’m looking forward to meeting Charlotte,” I say, confident that she is indeed his fiancée.
“You’ll like her, Reid.” He glances at the table. “I didn’t think love at first sight existed until I met her.”
I’m a firm non-believer in the concept. I don’t see that changing.
I know I should ask about the all important first meeting between the bride and groom, but someone at the wedding will lay that out in a speech. I have no doubt about that.
That brings me to my next round of questions. “I’m new to this best man thing. Do you want me to toast you at the wedding? I can bring up some of the stupid shit you used to do when you were a kid. Best men typically do that, don’t they?”
“Typically, yeah.” He grins. “Charlotte and I are going to mix things up a bit. It was her idea. I’ll get up and say a few words about her. She wants to do the same for me.”
I instantly breathe easier. I’m not one to shy away from talking in public, but putting together a speech about a man I haven’t been that close to in years would have been a challenge.
“I need to say something.” His expression shifts as his smile fades. “You haven’t asked the obvious question, and although I appreciate that, I need to answer it.”
I know where he’s going with this, so I lean back and let him say what he needs to say.
“The bond we forged when we were kids was rock solid.” He looks down into his drink. “You’re the only person who has ever stood up for me. I know we were four or five, but you stepped up for me in a way no one has since.”
My recollection of the day has faded so far into the past that I don’t recall any details. I just know it’s a story that has been a part of our friendship forever.
“When it came time to sell the bakery, I knew you’d have my back.” He sighs. “I trusted you to take care of the business and get it into the hands of people who would honor its roots while building on it. You did that.”
He’s right. I did.
Baden and Vance played a part, but I shouldered most of the work involved in that deal.
When it was all said and done, Vidori made a sizable profit, but that was after I made sure Randall and his sisters got what they deserved.
“I asked you to be my best man because you’re that.” He laughs nervously. “You’re the best man I know. I trust you, so it made sense to have you standing next to me when I marry the woman I love.”
His admission surprises me because I was convinced this was all about a promise made decades ago.
“I haven’t forgotten about him.” His voice lowers. “I know Buzzy made us promise to be each other’s best men, but this isn’t about that.”
I close my eyes as I recall the look on my grandfather’s face the day he caught me bickering with Randall. He made us vow to do right by each other forever, and since neither of us had a brother, we had to pinkie swear that when the time came for us to get married, we’d be each other’s best men.
Buster Aitken was Buzzy to everyone he ever met. He wanted me to call him Gramps, but I opted for Buzzy. A few short weeks before his unexpected death, I finally gave in and called him my Gramps.
We sit in silence while Randall sips on his drink. I debate ordering another, but I haven’t eaten since lunch, so I need to pace myself.
“Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?” he asks.
“I am.”
“Charlotte is giving the food at Nova a test run before she locks them in to cater our wedding reception.” He runs a hand over his short-cropped blond hair. “I haven’t been around enough to help her with all those small details, so I’m going to surprise her by showing up for that.”
Not wanting to be a third wheel, I make that known. “Thanks for the invite, but my guess is that your fiancée would prefer dinner alone with you.”
He laughs out loud. “The maid of honor is going to be there, too. I haven’t met her yet, so we can do that together.”
“I’ll be there,” I say without giving it too much thought.
“Good.” He downs what’s left of his drink. “The next round is on me, and then I’m heading out so I can spend some one-on-one time with my soon-to-be wife.”