by Natasha Boyd
Gwen has a theory Euan had a very sad nerdy existence back home and being in America gives him a whole new identity. Looking at the attempt at a man bun and beard he’s been working pitifully on for the better part of six months, I have to agree. It’s like in that movie, Love Actually , where the nerdy British virgin goes to America to get laid because the girls all love his accent .
Maybe I should do the reverse and go to England for a wife. Do British girls like American accents? Probably not as much as we like theirs .
I pull out a stool for Gwen .
She gives me a look .
“What?” I ask .
“Nothing.” Frankly she looks shell-shocked .
I realize I probably should have taken a moment to explain my predicament to her. The chances were we may have come to the decision together to get married so I could get the inheritance, as opposed to my ridiculous, fumbling request. As it was, I can tell she’s still reeling. And her knee jerk reaction is obviously to say no. I mean who says yes off the cuff to such a crazy plan ?
Things are beyond weird now. We need to get them back on to regular territory. What the hell had I been thinking? I wasn’t thinking. In shock myself, I’d panicked. And then there she was, my Gwen, so familiar, so … capable. And yeah, I’m not above admitting I think she’s freaking gorgeous and there she was all sweaty and busy and taking care of shit, and I just thought … she should take care of my shit too. Utterly selfish. Of course, I’d been quick to assure her I wasn’t remotely tempted to sleep with her and a weird look had crossed her face. It almost looked as if she’d been … offended .
“Hey, hey, Gwendolyn.” Euan the bartender greets her with a wink. “Was hoping you’d be back in soon. What can I get you, beautiful ?”
Since when were Euan and Gwen so chummy ?
“Hey, Euan,” she returns his greeting and leans over the bar to give him a kiss on each cheek .
I scowl .
She smiles at him. “I’ll take a pint of Caffrey’s and — ”
“And I’ll take a double Jamisons,” I interject and they both swivel their heads to look at me. “Rocks, splash of soda .”
Gwen raises her eyebrow. “Everything all right there ?”
“Peachy.”
“Caffrey’s and a whisky coming up in a jiffy,” Euan says in his flat British accent .
“Oh and bring our check from the other night to Beau here so he can settle up,” Gwen says .
“Why me?” I ask Gwen. “It was your turn .”
“You owe me for pool. I beat your ass .”
“Oh, right .”
Euan nods. “Right-o. How’s your three-legged dog, Beau ?”
“Eileen? She’s doing great, thanks .”
“Such a cute little mutt. I still don’t know why you gave it a poncey name like, Eileen, mate .”
I level a look at him, working out if he’s serious. But I see nothing but an earnest expression. “Sorry. How about that whiskey ?”
Euan scratches his head .
“What was that?” I ask Gwen when he leaves .
“What was what ?”
“That kissing thing ?”
“Isn’t that adorable? It’s how the British greet each other. A kiss on each cheek. Did you know in France it’s three ?”
I lift a shoulder. “In Belgium, it’s four .”
“It’s not. How do you know that ?”
“Watched a Dutch porno once,” I deadpan, trying to shock her because I’m suddenly feeling irrationally annoyed. And I don’t know why. Actually, I do know why. I hate that she’s flat out refused to marry me. I need her, Goddammit. She should help me as a friend .
“You did not .”
“I did,” I argue. Okay, maybe not specifically a Dutch one. “I’m sorry to burst your bubble, Gracie, but I do watch porn occasionally .”
“Ok, you probably did, but I doubt there was any kissing. Let alone four cheek kisses in a row,” she snaps .
“You don’t know that .”
“I do. Why waste valuable screen time on chaste cheek kisses or even romantic kisses when you can use that time to show someone ejaculating ?”
My mouth drops open .
She glares at me, daring me to contradict her. I guess she’s annoyed too. Touché on the trying to shock each other tactic .
But I’m more stunned at how her words just launched a heat wave through my gut. I lean across the bar and pick up a toothpick from the work station, casual as can be, and stick it between my teeth. “Fair point,” I admit, pretending I’m totally cool with our topic. “Been watching a lot of pornos have you?” Stupid, stupid question. My pants are having an uncomfortable moment. Surely not caused by Gwen .
My friend, Gwen .
Friend. Friend. Friend .
Friend who I said I’d never have any interest in sleeping with. I literally said those words out loud to her less than an hour ago. Although, I still need to analyze what the hell happened earlier in the office. And also, why the hell I’d admitted her naked body made me hard, I had no idea. What the hell had I been thinking? I wasn’t thinking, my blood had all vacated to my groin, leaving my brain starved for oxygen .
“I was curious.” She shrugs .
Fuck, I was hoping she wouldn’t answer. But she goes on, oblivious to my reaction to the thought of her watching porn. My Gwen watches Disney movies, not pornos. Did they turn her on, or is she disgusted? It’s hard to get a read from her tone .
I mentally slap my own face. Why do I care ?
“It underscored the fact that the porn available is made by men for men. Where’s the porn made by women for women I want to know?” she asks .
“Honey, I’ve got the book,” Alice, the bar owner’s voice cuts in as she delivers the drinks Euan has made. He’s gotten busy down the other end of the bar serving a large group of girls. “Yeah, it’s got pictures of buff, shirtless men doing housework, reading books, changing diapers and cuddling kittens. Now that’s some porn right there .”
Of course, it’d be a book. I roll my eyes .
Gwen lets out a hoot of laughter and they high-five. “Hey Alice. Good to see you. I notice you haven’t fired Euan yet .”
We all look down the bar .
“It’s a risk keeping him on, but he sure is good for business. If only I could get him one of those ‘extraordinary people’ visas they save for celebrity chefs, Slovenian first ladies, and the like.” She shakes her head slowly from side to side. “It’s quite fascinating really. If he spoke like he was from upcountry South Carolina, he’d be barely tolerated for being such a slut .”
“Aw, he’s a sweet kid. Don’t be so hard on him,” Gwen says .
Alice laughs. “Yeah, yeah. You’re right. I feel like the Dread Pirate Roberts. Every day, I’m like, good night Euan, sleep well. I’ll most likely fire you in the morning .”
“You could always marry him and keep him here,” Gwen suggests .
“Marry him? He’s half my age! Try proving that to the authorities. Anyway, never marry for convenience, it always leads to disaster .”
I manage to keep my eyes off Gwen and swallow hard on a sip of whiskey. It goes down the wrong way, making me cough .
Euan chooses that moment to glance down the bar and wink at Alice .
She goes beet red. “Christ,” she snaps and whirls away to busy herself with another customer .
I cough again, my eyes watering and Gwen thumps me between the shoulder blades .
“Ow.”
“Huh,” says Gwen, an eyebrow raised. “Looks like I might have accidentally poked a yellow-jacket nest .”
I pick up my whisky and hold it out to Gwen .
She closes her hand around her thick pint glass and swivels her barstool to face me. “What are we toasting to ?”
“Me starting my own boat-building business ?”
“Getting a bit ahead of yourself, aren’t you? Let’s toast to finding you a wife. Hey, what about Alice ?”
“No.
”
“No?”
“No.”
“Look, beggars can’t be choosers.” She goes ahead and clinks her glass with mine and takes a sip of her ale. Her eyes close and she makes a small moan of satisfaction before licking the cream off her top lip. Her jade colored eyes pop open, and I quickly look away .
What is going on right now? I’ve drunk a thousand beers with my best friend, and never once have I found it sexual in any way. I must be too long between hook ups. I sip my whisky and revel in the bite of it giving me another sensation to focus on. What were we talking about? Oh yeah. “I’m not a beggar .”
“Not yet .”
“Ever.” I form an expression of disgust. “Please. Plenty of women would jump at the chance.” Except you , obviously, I want to say out loud .
“What are we talking about?” Alice is back .
Gwen looks to me for permission .
I shrug. What the hell ?
“Still on the subject of marriage,” says Gwen to Alice. “And this one will shock you .”
“Okay,” says Alice. “I’m fifty-five years old and run a bar. I can promise you nothing will shock me. Shoot .”
“But you can’t say anything to anyone,” I add .
Alice looks affronted. “Aaaaand I hear a lot of things, I’m a bar tending therapist. And they stay right up here.” She taps her temple .
I think how best to explain my predicament .
How to word it the least salaciously .
But Gwen cuts me off. “Beau asked me to marry him,” she says, tossing the conversational live snake onto the bar top .
Alice reels back, and is in fact, speechless .
“Jesus,” I hiss. “You don’t have to put it out there like that .”
Gwen turns to me. “But that’s what happened, isn’t it? You were offered a dream come true with the stipulation of marriage, and you came running to your dear old dependable Gwen.” Then she turns back to Alice and shrugs. “That’s me, isn’t it? A dependable good friend. Actually, this Caffrey’s isn’t quite doing it for me. Can I get a shot? I’m thinking Tequila .”
Alice is frozen for a second more and then seems to snap to attention. “A shot. I could do with one of those myself.” She reaches for two shot glasses and a bottle .
She holds up the bottle to me. “You too ?”
I shake my head and motion with my glass of whiskey. I learned at around age twenty not to mix brown and white liquor .
Alice pours two shots, and she and Gwen clink glasses, knock them back, and slam the glasses on the bar top. Gwen’s mouth twists with distaste .
“You hate tequila,” I remind her too late .
“Desperate times,” she says cryptically .
“So,” says Alice to Gwen. “What did you say ?”
I chuckle humorlessly because obviously I’m the butt of the joke here. “No,” I answer instead of Gwen. “She said no. Obviously .”
“Why obviously?” Alice asks .
“Alice,” Gwen says in a warning tone, but Alice looks unperturbed .
“Actually, I’m not sure why it was an obvious no.” And sensing I may have an ally in our friendly bartender, I turn to Gwen. “So, Gwen. Why did you say no ?”
Gwen’s expression changes from startled to distracted. Then she looks down and pulls out her cell phone .
I see the name Derek flash across the screen .
“You should answer that,” I say, even as it annoys me he’s interrupted our evening. But I have to say I also feel relieved .
She looks at me for a long moment, then bites her lip and accepts the call. “Hello?” She hops off the barstool and heads toward the door so she can hear better .
I turn back to Alice .
“You want to tell me why you have some harebrained notion of getting married? Because I gotta tell you, it’s not a state of affairs I recommend .”
“Believe me, I agree. But I have to.” I proceed to tell her about the will and my dreams to open a custom boat business and the ridiculous marriage stipulation. Alice listens without judgment .
Then she says, “I’m sad .”
“Why?” I frown .
“Because I enjoyed you two coming in here. And this is going to change everything .”
“It doesn’t have to.” I lift a shoulder, my expression hopefully conveying my confusion at her reaction .
Alice rolls her eyes. “Honestly, men are so dense sometimes .”
“What am I not getting ?”
“If you haven’t figured it out, then I can’t tell you.” She taps her temple. “A vault, remember ?”
Gwen comes dancing back into the bar, beaming and fairly leaps onto the barstool. “Derek’s back this weekend .”
“Ohhh, lucky you,” Alice croons. “Nothing like sex with a sailor back in port after a dry spell. They can go all night. I hope you get around to actually talking .”
“What the hell, Alice?” I frown. Do I have to be included in the girl talk ?
“What? I’m excited that our gorgeous girl here is going to get a much needed shagging, as Euan would say … nothing inappropriate about that .”
I swallow the taste of acid in my throat .
Gwen is busy texting and smiling and not paying the slightest attention to me .
Alice leans toward me. “Unless you’re jealous .”
“What? No. Of course not.” My voice sounds strangled .
Jesus. I’m not, am I? Why should I be jealous of Gwen having sex? I can have sex whenever I want. Although I suppose when I have a wife, and I’m trying to keep it uncomplicated, I’ll have to find some other work arounds .
“Okay, cool. All set.” Gwen puts her phone down and looks up at us with happy eyes. “Derek is so sweet. I really should text him more. Oh, I almost forgot, Beau, are you coming to the pool party on Saturday ?”
“Yeah, I said I would .”
“Great,” Gwen says. “My friend Penny will be there so you don’t have to feel left out if I’m with Derek .”
Alice smiles sweetly at me. “Penny will be there,” she confirms as if I hadn’t just heard it for myself. “So you don’t feel left out .”
I scowl. Penny is the mad chick who lives in Gwen’s building. Wife material? I shudder. No, she’s a definite no. Not that Penny isn’t pretty. She is. I’m not sure why she’s a definite no. She also talks a lot. A lot . That must be it. I just … no .
Alice flicks my forehead and hands me the tab .
“Anyway,” says Gwen and beams at me in a somewhat maniacal way. “We need to start making a list of potential marriage partners .”
“There’s no rush, right? Although we could fix this all tomorrow if you’d just say yes .”
Gwen takes a long gulp of her beer, her eyes getting shifty .
“What’s going on ?”
“I’ve been looking for the best time to tell you this, and then after your, you know,” she clears her throat, “proposal earlier, it completely slipped my mind .”
“Yes?” I prompt .
“Well, uh. So …”
“Gwen.”
“The thing is … my dad … well, he sold the boat shop .”
I slowly lower my glass to the bar top. My breath seems not to have filled my lungs .
“But …”
“I know you were going to buy into the business.” She winces, pity painted all over her face .
“Yeah, I’ve been saving …” I say, telling her what she already knows. “I … there’s no way. It’s too soon. Who’d he sell to?” How could he ?
She lays a hand on my wrist, it’s warm and comforting and I wish she could fix everything. “He didn’t sell the business. He sold the real estate. And I don’t know who bought it .”
Blinking rapidly, I manage to expel a breath without making it sound like I’m about to cry. I’m not obviously. I’m shocked, that’s all .
“He wants you to come and talk to him about buying the equipment and setting up on your own. He wa
nts to retire .”
Setting up on my own? I’d always thought it would be a partnership. God, and I am so close to getting an inheritance that would let me do that. Just not close enough. “How long do I have to come up with the money ?”
“A month. Or he’s selling the equipment at auction because it needs to be out of there before the closing .”
I pick up my glass and down the rest of my whiskey .
A month to find the money to buy myself into the boat building business. A month to find a wife .
8
Gwen
O migod, omigod, omigod,” I whined aloud back in my condo. I dumped my purse and flung my phone onto the couch .
I wasn’t really sure how I got through that bombshell. Beau asking me to marry him out of the blue. And then having to tell him about my dad. Holy shit, this was the kind of thing I’d pick up my phone to immediately text Beau about, but of course it had everything to do with Beau .
What in the hell was I going to do? The feeling of everything slipping away from me ignited some deep panic instinct within me, making my heart race and my gut churn. I felt like a fish desperately trying to avoid a shark. I paced back and forth around the room, which started to make me dizzy as it was so small, I was literally walking in circles .
My instinct had been to reject Beau’s marriage idea outright. I know that was borne of shock and surprise. But it was also self-preservation, I was instantly terrified my feelings for him would be broadcast all over my face and I’d blow up our friendship in one fell swoop. But the alternative, imagining him married to someone else felt like being gutted with a fillet knife .
This was the problem with having a best friend you were stupid enough to fall in love with, there were no allowances to freak the hell out to them when they told you they were getting married .
Okay, breathe , I told myself. I grabbed the TV remote and went to my streaming service to find a movie .
And then I’d had to tell Beau about Dad selling the boat shop. He’d looked like he might pass out for a second. “You sure?” he’d asked with eyes that looked at me like I’d just run over his dog. Damn my dad for making me do it .
My phone chimed. I snatched it off the couch .
Beau: Hey .