Page 21 of Rafferty's Rules
‘We all have our fuckup moments. Remember, I was in the same place last night.’
‘Maybe physically.’ My eyes drop to the table at my inadvertent reveal. ‘You were trying to help a friend,’ I add softly. And maybe if William had a friend like Rafferty, I’d be married now. The thought is a little like heartburn, as in unwanted.
Maybe the bagel is to blame.
‘Ah, but I ended up helping one friend but being punished by another.’ I frown, unsure what he could mean. ‘See, this morning I spoke to Joe, my mate and the groom, and he can’t remember the conversation we had last night.’
‘I know what that feels like.’ Geez, would it kill me to engage my brain before opening my mouth?
‘He said he knows nothing about a brothel. In fact, he thought I was winding him up.’
‘Is that something you do often?’
‘I used to.’ His runs a hand through this sun-struck hair, the soft cotton of his T-shirt stretching to accommodate his bicep. ‘I was known as a bit of a larrikin when I was younger; a bit of a joker, but I’ve straightened up. Started to act my age lately.’
‘Me too.’ Only in my case, I’d resolved to stop acting middle aged. And I started the process by having the biggest tantrum known to man. ‘And that would bewhat age are you now acting?’
‘Twenty-nine.’Tweny nyyn. Gah, that accent!‘Seemed like the right age to stop fucking about.’ He shrugs casually, but there’s something he’s not saying, I feel. ‘Yeah, so Joe.’ The corner of his mouth lifts in a not-quite smile. ‘He was insistent he hadn’t been in a brothel and had passed out in his hotel room before midnight. He was pretty freaked out, naturally. Anna, his fiancée, would kick his arse to the curb for much, much less.’ I find myself nodding emphatically. Good call, Anna. ‘So he said he’d wake some of the other lads and find out exactly what he’d missed.’
‘And?’
‘I was set up, but Joe wasn’t in on it. He was just a drunken pawn in the machinations of one of the other blokes, Liam. Last year, Liam got married, and I told his best man I’d arrange the entertainment.’
‘Where are you going with this?’ Eyes narrowed, I silently pray this isn’t going where I think it is. Bachelor party entertainment isn’t likely to be a game of pool or Scrabble, is it?
‘I tell you where I wasn’t going; to his buck’s night. They all flew to Vegas—I was in London for business—but I arranged some... exotic dancers to pop into the hotel suite.’
‘You mean strippers,’ I deadpan. At this, he laughs. No, actually he cackles. Whatever it is he did, the thought of it is still cracking him up.
‘I sent them three strippers. Male strippers. Pensioner age male strippers. I only wish I’d been there to see Liam’s face.’
‘I take it you’re not a fan of Liam?’
‘He’s an all-right bloke. And pretty patient.’
‘You mean you ruined his bachelor night, and he’s still your friend?’
‘I didn’t ruin it. I just made it a bit more interesting. And last night was him getting his own back, I reckon. Or at least trying to.’
‘Well, revenge is a dish best served cold, so they say.’ Not blood-boiling angry and drunk off your face.
‘I wouldn’t know about that, but I will say I’m pretty sure one of thoseladies of the nightlast night came with a bit extra, if you know what I mean.’
‘Like bigger boobs?’
‘Boobs, yeah,’ he concedes. ‘And packin’.’
‘A gun!’ I almost shriek.
‘No, a dick,’ he answers bemusedly.
‘Oh.Oh.Do you mean he expected you to... to...’
‘Nah, I expect he was just setting me up for a bit of awkwardness and embarrassment.’
‘Oh, man. Men are such—’ Nose scrunched, I can feel my mouth is little more than a moue of distaste.
‘Arseholes?’
