Page 93 of The Fast Lane

The couple sitting at the table looked at me curiously. The woman held up a basket. “Breadstick?”

“Thanks.” I pulled one out and took a bite. “Sorry for intruding.”

She shrugged. “Eat up, honey. You look like you could use the carbs.”

“You have no idea.” I waved the breadstick at her. “This city is nuts.”

Theo passed the table, then stopped and turned around, walking back. “No luck.”

“Nope.”

The woman offered Theo a breadstick too. “Who ya looking for?”

I showed her the photo and she smiled. “Oh, yay. I’ve seen them. They were sitting over there.” She pointed at a table nearby, now occupied by a trio of women. “Not sure where they?—”

That’s when I heard it. Somewhere a man was belting out Taylor Swift at the top of his lungs. I grabbed Theo’s hand. “Do you hear that?”

The restaurant bar boasted twenty-four-hour karaoke and while the place wasn’t empty, it was a fairly small crowd of the very drunk, which included Mack and Mimi.

Mack was on the stage. Every lyric sort of tumbled out of his mouth in sloppy, drunken happiness. Despite that, he got an occasional catcall and random applause. Standing by the stage and swaying to Mack’s caterwauling was Mimi, wearing bright-pink hot pants, four-inch heels, and a shirt that showed a whole lot of the girls she was currently shaking.

“What is happening?” I whispered.

“I would say Mack is having a really good time.”

I plopped down at the bar, eyes on the stage. After Mack ended his song, Mimi joined him for a truly horrible rendition of “Islands in the Stream.”

“A really, really good time,” Theo said as we watched Mimi plant a kiss on Mack’s cheek.

“Can I get you something?” the bartender asked.

“I’m with the band.” I yawned. The adrenaline was fading fast, replaced by exhaustion.

Theo sat next to me, his baseball cap pulled low. I gazed longingly at his shoulder, wondering if he’d be okay with me putting my head on it. Or if he’d possibly let me curl up in his lap.

Theo turned to me and frowned. He brushed a piece of hair from my cheek and read my mind again. “You look tired.”

“So do you.” And I’d already noticed his limp was becoming more pronounced with each step. “And your ankle is hurting, isn’t it?”

He gave me a weary smile. “And we still have a marriage to break up.”

I groaned. “Do you think they have quickie divorces in Vegas?”

Mack and Mimi finished their song, and with linked hands, practically skipped off the stage.

We tracked the two back to a table full of people who looked to mostly be in their sixties and seventies. What had they done? Crashed a senior living group, got married, got drunk, and then decided to continue the celebration with karaoke, and not necessarily in that order.

“Mack,” I said, much too loudly. Everyone at the table jerked their heads in my direction.

“Ali-Cat!” Mack stood and held his arms open. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

I blinked. “We’ve spent the last two hours searching for you. Your phone goes straight to voicemail. I’ve been worried sick.”

“I didn’t mean to worry you. I left a note. I sent you that text too, but then my phone died. Did you get it?” With a grin, he waved his hand around the table. “Mimi, look who came to visit.”

“It’s four o’clock in the morning. This isn’t a visit.”

Mack continued jovially like he hadn’t heard a word I was saying. “Friends, this is my granddaughter, Ali, and her fiancé, Theo.”