Page 33 of Grand Escape

I nodded and set up to swing. A drink cart came by, and the guys loaded up on Bloody Marys.

Grant approached me, holding an extra. “And one for our new friend.”

“When in Rome,” I said, toasting them.

“So, Sarah pumped out three kids with the fishmonger and then left his ass,” Grant said. “She got the house and the kids and the housekeeper. With time on her hands, she reached out to Chew, who was already engaged to Veronica. That’s his second wife.”

Grant kept going with the story before taking a drink break. Then he said, “Oh, I’m up. Drew, you finish.”

We were on the seventh hole now. I hadn’t thought of Becca once—not that she wasn’t always with me—but I wasn’t beating myself up at the moment. Even though I tried not to, Rylan had been on my brain pretty much nonstop. I wondered what she thought when she’d woken to memories of last night.

“Chew sits down last night, a plate of crab legs in front of him, and says, ‘Guys, this has been real. But, Ron’—that’s what he calls Veronica—‘Ron and I called it quits last week.’”

I sucked back my drink and waited for more. There hadn’t been time for me to say I was a divorce attorney, but I wondered what type of representation Chewy had as Andrew continued the story.

“He tossed back a shot of bourbon and stared at us. We must’ve looked like chumps after planning this trip in honor of his marriage, the one he’s about to bail on. They got married a month ago at the courthouse and then went to Hawaii for ten days.”

I wondered what Chewy did for a living that he could take so much time off.

“He said that he loved Ron very much, and he’d promised her a honeymoon and didn’t want to renege. Guy has fucking lost it. He’s been talking to Sarah this whole time. Even met her kids. As soon as he and Ron got back from Hawaii, he told her it was over. Said she could keep the little ranch they’d bought in Laguna.”

My eyes widened. “And I thought I was a sorry sack ...”

“Who, you? I don’t get that vibe. Young guy like you with the world at your feet,” Grant said, frowning at me.

“Me?” I scoffed. “I’m a little younger than you. No marriages under my belt. No one significant to talk about. My sister died two years ago, and I’m still stuck in that black hole.”

“Shit, man,” Andrew said. “And here you are listening to our BS.”

We were on the tenth hole at that point, and I had the low score. Maybe I should make new friends more often.

“By the way, I’m a divorce attorney.”

“No kidding. You should come meet Chewy. He could use the advice, giving up houses in Laguna to women he’s been married to for a few weeks.”

“For real.” I shook my head. “That’s a red flag.”

I took in the three of them, all dressed in golfing whites with various club logos on their polos, saddle shoes, and wedding bands. Andrew was freckled and fair. The other two looked more Mediterranean. I wondered what their wives were like.

Andrew nodded at me. “You should come over tonight to have drinks. We have this unreal place.”

“Um, I don’t know.”

“For sure. Chewy’s gotta meet you. Yeah, the guy’s loaded. Family money. Owns a beverage wholesale company that distributes beer all over California, but he’s getting that house back.”

I wondered if Rylan thought we had plans tonight. Maybe a night away from the hotel would be good after all of Tony’s warnings.

After we’d finished eighteen holes, Pete arranged a ride for me back to the Grand. Grant had walked me out of the clubhouse, slapped me on the back, and texted me their address, making me promise to come over to their place around seven.

Back at my villa, I changed and went to the pool. I’d suffered through two Bloody Marys with the guys and didn’t need another drink, but found myself saddling up to the bar.

Unfortunately, my preferred bartender wasn’t behind the cooler. A slim woman about the same age as Rylan greeted me, with red hair tied in a messy knot and ruddy cheeks.

“What can I get you?”

For the first time since I could remember, the words were stolen from me. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath and hoping for Rylan until this very second.

“We have a special today, the purple zinger,” the redhead said.