Chapter 4

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"Zoey, seriously, pick up! I'm standing here looking like a dumbass in the middle of the liquor store because I forgot which wine you told me to buy. Call me back!" I hissed into my phone.

It was Saturday evening, and I was supposed to be at the Delgado homestead in less than an hour. At the moment I was walking aimlessly up and down the aisles of a local liquor store because it happened to be on the way, and I was determined to prove Javi wrong about my inability to be on time. I was trying to take Nikki and Zoey's advice to heart by bringing a gift to the Delgados. Unfortunately, when Zoey had told me the brand of wine she'd given Hayden's parents, I didn't write it down because I just knew I'd remember it.

And of course I didn't.

An overweight man wearing a wife-beater covered in suspicious stains and baggy basketball shorts ambled up my aisle and stopped next to me.

"Looking for something in particular?" he muttered around the toothpick in his mouth.

I pointedly looked him up and down. "Do you work here?"

"No."

He stayed where he was, not saying a word, and I began to get uncomfortable.

I snatched a bottle of José Cuervo from the shelf and brandished it in order to get him to leave. "Ah! Here it is."

The man grunted and gave a satisfied nod. "That's the good stuff. Cheap and it'll get you tanked."

I frowned. I had come into the store with the intention of getting wine, but why not get some kind of spirit like tequila? Maybe Javi's parents could add it to punch.

"Maybe I should get something a little more expensive?" I wondered aloud.

I looked at the price tags of the other bottles on the shelf. Way too rich for my blood. "Nope, this'll have to do. Is it weird to just show up to meet someone's parents with a bottle of tequila? Should I get a plant or something to go with it?"

My new friend planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. "Why don't ya get a mixer?"

"Huh?"

"A mixer. Like strawberry or mango."

"Good idea..." I raised an eyebrow. "I didn't catch your name?"

"Name's Jay," he said with a nod. "Don't get too crazy tonight."

"Back 'atcha," I said to his retreating form.

A moment later, I was studying the mixers on the shelf below the tequila when a thought occurred to me. The man had said his name was Jay. The Phone Perv was named Jay. And though I wasn't one to stereotype, my wife-beater-wearing friend gave off a Phone Perv vibe. Was Jay really that common of a name?

I shook my head to clear it. I didn't have time for distractions; I was a woman on a mission. I looked back at my choices for margarita mixers. Classic lime was boring. Mango might be a little too exotic. Strawberry could be fun—its coloring made it festive, and who didn't like strawberry?

I checked my phone one more time just to see if Zoey had texted or tried to call while Jay had distracted me. I debated texting Nikki or Malcolm, but I was running out of time, and it would take me too long to go anywhere else. I hoped the Delgados were ready to turn up.

***

Twenty minutes later, I slowed my car to a crawl along the suburban street where Javi's parents' house was supposed to be. I stared in awe at the neighborhood around me.

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