Page 42 of Bridesmaid Undercover
“I don’t think that’s in our future, Tomothy.”
Not wanting to see Tomothy’s reaction, I reach our table and grab my purse. When I look over at Trevor, he has a guilty look on his face, Ember standing directly behind him. I point at him and say, “You did this.”
He nods. “I know.”
“Do not do it again.”
“Understood,” he answers.
“Blaming Trevor for your intestinal bubbling?” Tomothytsksat me. “You’re the one who took the chance on the sausage, not him.”
“Oh my God, Tomothy, no one asked you,” I say, losing my cool.
He holds his hands up as if I’ve insulted him. “I don’t think I appreciate your tone.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t appreciate you telling me that you find the vagina too complex. How do you think you’d be able to pleasure me, Tomothy?”
“The women I’m with usually pleasure themselves,” he says as if I’m stupid.
“And that’s why you’re single,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air.
He folds his arms, his stature drawing attention from the diners around us. “And why are you single?”
“Because apparently I keep trying to date men with names like Tomothy who have impeccably manicured nostrils but like to lick their cats and gnaw on their paws.”
Tomothy huffs. “You leave Hoodini out of this.”
“Dear God in heaven.” I roll my eyes and wave to Trevor. “Good night.”
And with that, I take off, fleeing the restaurant and heading straight for my car. I need to find the nearest grocery store to buy a pint of ice cream I can drown myself in.
Chapter Eight
HARDY
To: Everly Plum
From: Hardy Hopper
Subject: Inquiring
Professor,
Just checking to see if you’ve heard anything from Syrup yet. I know it’s only been a day since you reached out to her about this, but I’m eager to see if my ideas for the bachelor party will match up with her bachelorette ideas. Because I have some great ones. Here is my list already:
Game: Beer Pong Tournament
Drinks: Craft beers and Moscow mules
Food: All kinds of dips
Music: The best of Ed Sheeran
Killer party, right?
Let me know what you think.
Henrietta
