Scorched (Sizzle #2) (8 page)

“We’ll be waiting for youuuuu,” the girls
returned together, each of them relieved to see Mannie’s mega-watt smile for a
scant moment.  It was better than nothing. 

Leaning his head back against the
cushions, Manny murmured, “I think I might be drunk a little.”

“You think?” Devil snorted from his chair
in the corner, eyeing the glass bottle wedged between their Mexican friend’s
legs.  Nobody could blame him.   One thing every single person in the room
could agree on was that Mannie had lived through one hell of a night.  “You
drank a half bottle of booze in less than an hour.  I’m surprised you’re still
conscious, amigo.”

Molly laughed out loud when Armando
answered with a long snore.  “Well, I’d say that puts a period on the evening,”
she said softly to no one and everyone.

Not to be dissuaded, Vivian turned around
and narrowed her eyes on Devil.  “Did you know about any of this tonight?  And
please remember that I’m an attorney….”

“…and I’m your wife,” Molly interjected
with a glare of her own.

“…and both of us can spot a lie from less
than five paces,” Vivian concluded, her face an impassive mask.

When Devil merely stared into space, Molly
felt her irritation skyrocket.  “Devil, I suggest you answer Vivian’s questions. 
What did you know about this?  And don’t bother trying to lie or mislead me
because I’ve already figured out by your reactions tonight that you knew more about
this than any of us including poor Armando!”

“I knew everything.  Nick and I discussed
it before he left for Miami.  You know, the day after you read him the riot act
for not giving you a complete guest list so that you could finish mailing out
invitations.  The poor guy was freaked the hell out.  Evidently, you’re scary
when you’re working against the clock.”

“I was perfectly polite to your little
lackey.  It’s not my fault if he wears his heart on his sleeve and can’t handle
a few simple requests,” Molly objected huffily, her eyebrows furrowing.  Was it
her fault that Nick had procrastinated to the point where she was going to have
to pay the printers a substantial extra fee to have their invitations done on
time?  Damn it, they were down to single digits here.  In less than eight days,
those boys would be committing to each other for the rest of their lives… at
least, she hoped they would be.  Based on Mannie’s statements before he passed
out, however, the likelihood of it was looking iffy.  And she couldn’t even
blame him.  She completely saw where he was coming from on the issue.   “And
honestly, I could care less if Nick got his feelings hurt.  Right now, all I
care about is that evidently you knew your friend was hiding his fiancé from
his family, but also his sexuality as well.”

“Molly, I can explain, sweetheart,” Devil
soothed, holding up his hand and trying to reach for his wife. 

“Sounds like famous last words to me,”
Sami grunted, glaring at Devil.

“Don’t they just?” Molly returned, nodding
at a sage Samantha.

“Not everything is simply black and white
here, dammit.  There is such a color as grey, you know,” Devil hissed at the
three women, dropping his arm when Molly backed away from him and kept
glowering at him.  “Nick Santino is not the villain your overactive
imaginations are trying to conjure up.  He’s a decent guy, Molly.”

“Oh, my God,” Molly scoffed, carefully
keeping her voice pitched low so she didn’t disturb a snoring Armando.  Heaven
knew that the poor man would need his rest to manage whatever ordeal was headed
toward them.  “You’re actually going to defend what he’s done?  You know what
you are, Devil?  You’re a Judas!”

“Excuse me?” Devil snapped, his shoulders
stiffening as he focused furious eyes on Molly.  “I haven’t betrayed anybody,
little girl.  I simply didn’t stick my nose into somebody else’s relationship
where – incidentally - it didn’t belong.  I listened to Nick talk about his
problem with his parents over a couple of beers during a business trip several
months ago.  I gave him some advice when he asked for it and then I put it out
of my mind because it wasn’t
my
problem!  I do that when something is
none of my affair.  It’s a pretty common practice.   I certainly didn’t deceive
anybody!  Not Mannie.   And certainly not you,” Devil argued quietly as he
stared at his wife.  “The bottom line here is that I
know
Nick loves and
adores young Armando over there just as much as I do you and listening to you
three harpies crucify the man before he’s had a chance to defend himself is
wrong.  I know it, and so do you.  When exactly did you get so self-righteous,
huh?  Since when aren’t you willing to at least
hear
the other side of
the story, Margaret?  How the hell can you or your terrible twosome here make
an informed decision if you don’t have all the facts?”

Despite being irate that he employed the
use of her much hated Christian name, Molly chose to let it go and pay
attention to the matter at hand.  Crossing her arms over her chest, she lifted
her chin in defiance.  “Don’t you think we have the pertinent facts, Devil?”
she asked with a scowl.  “Nick’s been lying to his parents
and
lying to
the man he claims to love.  Call me crazy, but it appears that he was willing
to build a marriage on a foundation of lies and sins of omission.  I’d say we
all have a pretty good grasp on the facts.  And as for Nick loving Mannie like
you love me, if that’s true, Devil, I’m a little concerned about the health of
our own relationship.  How many deceptions will I find if I take a closer look
at our marriage?”

“Okay, you two,” Vivian interceded calmly,
“let’s agree to retreat to our neutral corners before somebody says something
they can’t take back.”

Disregarding Vivian’s warning, Devil shook
his head.  “Have any of you asked yourself
why
a stand-up guy like Nick
would choose to keep this to himself?  Any of you given his reasoning any
thought?  Do any of you care about that?”

Stunned by Devil’s passionate defense of
his employee and friend, it occurred to Molly that her husband was as
protective of his pal as she was of hers.  Shifting uncomfortably on her feet
as she felt his observant eyes drilling into her.  Knowing that he was waiting
for a response, she murmured, “I care.  Not as much as I care about Armando,
but I
do
care.” 

“Good,” Devil returned with a satisfied
nod.  “Then give Nick a chance to get here tomorrow and explain his reasons for
doing what he did.  I promise you all,” he continued, his gaze sweeping over
all three worried women, “This is a far sight more complicated for Nick than
you think.  Armando doesn’t possess all the information that he needs to decide
if he really wants to cancel his wedding.  I’m asking all three of you to stall
him for more time before he does something he’ll regret.” 

“Whoa, there, Dr. Phil,” Molly drawled,
automatically lifting her hand up in the air to stop Devil from carrying on. 
“I won’t do that.  Whatever Nick’s motives were or weren’t, he’s deeply injured
that man,” Molly declared, pointing at Mannie.  Now sprawled on his back with
feet propped on an ottoman, the man now slept, unmoving and drooling.  “If
Mannie wants to cancel the ceremony, I can’t stop him, Dev.  Nobody will be
able to do that.  He’s a highly emotional, hot headed Latin man that feels like
he’s been living a lie with his lover for years.  I’m pretty sure that not even
Godzilla could slow him down if he decides to end things with Nick.” 

“I get that,” Devil agreed readily as both
he and Molly watched Samantha cover a slack faced Armando with a cashmere
blanket from the back of one of the wingback chairs.  “I suppose what I’m
asking from all of you is to not purposefully add any fuel to Mannie’s flame
right now.”

“So you want us to delay him with a lack
of support on our end,” Vivian clarified.

“All I’m saying is maybe don’t be so eager
to help him start canceling plans if he asks you.  I’ve been texting with Nick
and the poor guy is a wreck.  He doesn’t want to lose Armando any more than
Mannie wants to let Nick go.  This can be fixed, ladies,” Devil assured the
roomful of doubtful women passionately, looking from one hesitant woman to
another. 

Glancing in Sami and Vivian’s direction,
Molly gave a small shrug.  “I guess we
could
give Nick a shot to make
this right, couldn’t we?” she asked her friends in a small voice.  The idea
certainly didn’t thrill her, but this was Mannie’s future happiness on the
line.  If there was even the slightest chance that this major fuck-up could be
repaired, didn’t they owe it to Armando to do what they could to insure his future
with Nicolas?  “What do you guys think?” she asked the girls.

Sami ran a frustrated hand through her
long blonde hair.  “As much as I despise agreeing with Satan’s son,” she began,
offering a nod toward Devil, “I gotta say, if I was in Mannie’s position, I’d
want some answers.  And the only person that’s gonna have those answers to give
is the pecker packing son of a bitch that  we all wanna skin and skewer over an
open flame.”

“Not all of us.  I, for one,
know
this is all a big misunderstanding that can be straightened out if I can
convince you people to not shift into the overly-emotional psycho mode you all
seem to favor when times get a little rocky,” Devil announced belligerently.

That’s when Molly knew beyond a shadow of
a doubt….

She’d married the smartest idiot on the
planet.

Devil

“I’m telling
you both, I barely escaped that house of horrors with my life, assholes!” Devil
yelled at the two men sitting in the darkened corner of the local sports bar
they regularly frequented when the need to flee their significant others became
too much of a temptation to resist.  “Stop laughing at me, you hyenas!  I
thought those she-beasts were going to maul and devour me before I ever made it
to my own front door, dammit!  Even the lion gave the gazelle a thirty second
head start, but not those women.  Hell, no!  In fact, not only did they not
give me a head start, but I’m pretty sure it was Vivian that tripped me on the
way out.  And I
know
it was Samantha’s shoe that caught me on the temple
once I was down.  And all the while,
my so-called loving
wife just
freaking watched!  That was until she decided to participate.  Thank God her
aim hasn’t improved with time,” he yelped above the chuckles of his
contemporaries. 

Christ, but
he needed to find better friends.  The ones he had wouldn’t be entirely happy
until one of his stories ended with, ‘and then, the paramedics shocked my heart
back to life’.  Evil bastards, the lot of ‘em, he thought as he looked between the
faces of his oldest friend and his beleaguered vice president.

Hell, last
night hadn’t even been a catastrophe of his own making.  Which reminded him,
blame still had to be rightly and justly placed on somebody
else’s
head.  Narrowing his gaze as he looked at his company’s youngest (and most
successful) vice president, Nick Santino, he growled and pointed one long,
tapered finger to his left.  “Look, I had to sleep in my car in the garage last
night because I was too afraid to go back into the lion’s den, guys.  I don’t
want another night like that.  Besides, this isn’t even my fucking war to
fight. This is
your
battle, Kemo Sabe, so I suggest you take your ass
home and suit up for the game.”  Taking a hard look at his normally pristinely
dressed employee, he shook his head at the man sitting next to him now.  Nobody
would accuse him of being a fussy dresser today.  Clad in baggy jeans sans belt
and an oversized red flannel long sleeved shirt, Nick Santino had completed the
ensemble with a battered baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.  “What the hell
are you wearing anyway?” Devil asked.  “You going for that fresh-from-the-forest
lumberjack thug look?”

“Shut up,
Devil,” Nick grumbled under his breath, reaching for the glass of Shiraz he’d ordered
from the bouncy scantily-dressed waitress that had been by their table earlier. 
“I’m trying to fly under the radar.  That’s kind of hard to do wearing a Gucci
suit.”

“Well, trust
me, nobody’s gonna recognize you right now,” Molly’s brother, Grant Ramsey,
chuckled, eyeing the younger man sitting across from him.  “Exactly who are you
hiding from, though?  Based on what Dev here has told me, I don’t exactly think
Armando is combing the streets for you.  Besides, I’m fairly certain Mannie
might revoke your gay card if he saw you in
that
get-up.  Redneck gangsta
thug is
not
in your color wheel, my friend.”

“Look, I’m
not exactly trying to
hide
from anybody.  Not really,” Nick muttered
into his glass.  “I’m just not necessarily trying to draw attention to myself
right now, thank you both very much.  I’m just not interested in advertising my
presence back in Atlanta.  At least not until I figure out how to explain to
Armando about my fucked up family.  Besides, I was actually really comfortable
for a change on the flight into town.  I told Mannie that there was something
to be said for casual clothing, but he insists that clothes make the man.”

Devil snorted
as he tilted his beer in the direction of the other man.  “Son, at this moment,
you’re damned lucky I like you.  Otherwise, I’d have taken out a damn billboard
over your head the second you deplaned over at Hartsfield-Jackson and pointed
the four Musketeers your way.  Despite your well-thought-out disguise as a
straight man, I don’t think it’d distract them for long.”

“I might not
fool the man I love and his three best friends, but it’s not them I’m trying to
avoid.  It’s the rest of Atlanta that I’m trying to dodge.  Being stopped
twelve times a day and congratulated on my upcoming nuptials was fun as hell
when I was positive I had a groom waiting in the wings for me.  Now, not
knowing if I can even begin to gain Armando’s forgiveness….I don’t exactly feel
like playing the gushing gay groom of the year, you know?”

“Ohhhh,
you’re
gonna
fix this,” Devil growled back, leaning forward to clutch
his highball glass of scotch with one hand.  “That’s not negotiable,” he
informed the younger man while he waved one hand in the air, signaling the
waitress for a refill.  “Seriously, I’m going to have to insist that you pull
your shit together and commence kissing whatever you need to kiss to get
Armando from my house back into YOUR house,” he informed the younger man while
he waved one hand in the air. 

“You think I
don’t want that?” Nick asked, sounding desperate.  Running a hand down his
unshaven cheek, he shook his head.  “I’ve called his cell at least fifty
times.  I’ve left him over two dozen voice mails.  And that’s not even
mentioning the texts I’ve sent.  Devil, he won’t talk to me.  For God’s sake,
YOU, my boss, picked me up from the airport while my boyfriend did what? 
Nursed his grudge toward me?”

“And a
killer
hangover from what I’ve heard through the grapevine,” Grant whispered conspiratorially,
winking at Devil.  “But, if it makes you feel any better, your trusty boss ,
here,” he continued, jerking his head toward Devil, “is nursing a fairly
serious case of blue balls so, really, it could be worse, right?  Evidently,
prior to your fiancé’s appearance last night, it was also going to be the night
the Devil got to go back into Georgia for a little horizontal dancing, if you
know what I mean.   Have some sympathy for the Devil, man; eight weeks feels
like a year where sex is involved.”

Gaping at his
best friend, Devil shook his head.  “What are you?  A woman?” he asked Grant,
silently debating how a brilliant obstetrician could so quickly devolve into a
prepubescent girl when there was gossip involved.   “You do realize that my
wife
is
your SISTER, don’t you?”

“Honestly,
sometimes I forget,” Grant replied with a slight shrug as he propped his chin
in his hand and smiled benignly across the table at Nick.  “Honestly, being
Devil’s best friend can be a tough job at times, and he’s been cranky of late. 
Your Armando’s descent into madness last night prevented your boss from
descending into my sister’s charms.”

“I
seriously
did not need to know that status of my boss’s balls or how often he visits
Georgia or how he dances when he arrives there,” Nick yelped, glaring at
Grant’s amused face.  “I don’t care how gay I am, that is not information I
ever want to possess,” he proclaimed with a shudder as he ripped off his
baseball cap and shoved a hand through his thick, wavy hair.  “Damn it!  Aren’t
you two paying attention?  I’m in crisis here.”

“You’re in
crisis?” Devil asked indignantly.  “No.  Let me tell you about crisis.  Crisis
occurs when you’ve managed to convince your reluctant wife to allow her parents
to babysit your daughter for the night...when you finally get her all to
yourself.  You’re not sharing her with your child or with your mother-in-law or
with her two gal pals from hell or her gay bestie.  Nope, you’ve finally got
all her attention on you.  Imagine it, Nick,” Devil demanded dangerously,
“You’ve almost reached the Passionate Promised Land and the long, draining sexual
draught is almost over.  Hot sex can be seen on the horizon, man!  She’s
naked….and SO.  ARE.  YOU.  You’re
that
close!  And then your moment
gets busted all to hell because that guy – we’ll call him shithead #1 - that
you hired neglected to tell that OTHER guy you employee – we’ll call him
shithead #2 – that he never shared his sexual orientation with his
stick-up-their-collective-asses parents.   Now, you might imagine what I
imagined at the time….you know, that none of this was my problem.  But you’d be
WRONG!  So very fuckin’ wrong.  Wanna know why it became my problem?  Because
my Molly
said it was
!” Devil finished on a roar that drew stares from
the surrounding tables.  “That’s a fuckin’ crisis, Nick!”

Grant smiled benevolently
at the surrounding patrons that had fixed their attention on their table. 
“Don’t mind us.  We’ve just had a threesome that went
horribly
wrong. 
One of us,” he whisper yelled, pointing at Devil, “got a severe case of
performance anxiety.  What are ya gonna do, though?  The three of us have been
together too long to just start over again with someone else.  Our little Boy
Toy, here,” he said, ruffling Nick’s hair, “he could get any man he wanted, but
me and Dev…we’re just too old to begin again, you know?”

“GRANT!” 
Devil and Nick hissed in unison, both their gazes blazing furiously.

“What?” Grant
questioned innocently.  “Haven’t you guys heard?  Polygamous relationships are
all the rage these days.  Haven’t you been watching those episodes of My Five
Wives I’ve been linking to you lately?  It’s one giant step forward for the
polygamous kind.”

“I’m gonna
kill him,” Devil growled under his breath right before lunging across Nick’s
body to nail his best friend of twenty years with a nasty right hook.  With any
luck, he’d knock the son of a gun out so that none of them would have to listen
to him attempt to be funny.

Dodging
Devil’s fist, Grant laughed as someone at the table across the restaurant began
snapping photos.  “Okay, gentleman, I believe we’re beginning to attract a
crowd,” he groaned as Nick’s booted foot found his instep.  “Son of a bitch,
that HURT!” he shouted, lifting his own fist to nail Nick in his stomach.  “Ow,
shit!” he yelped, shaking out his hand as his curled fingers bounced off Nick’s
abs.  “Holy hell, how often do you work out, Santino?  Devil, feel this kid’s
abs, man!  Dear Lord, I’ve never felt anything like this, Devil,” he breathed
in awe.

“Are we sure
that
you’re
not gay?” Devil asked Grant sharply, rolling his eyes as he
straightened his sport coat with jerky movements.

“Now,
fellas,” a sultry southern voice drawled, “Gay or not, I’m gonna need you boys
to settle down,” their waitress instructed with a wink as she delivered another
round of drinks.  “Else, I’m gonna have to cut y’all off, and I enjoy the
company way too much to have to do that.”

Barely
looking at the scantily dressed woman to his left, Devil nodded.  “We’re fine
here, Delilah.  Just a little familial misunderstanding.”

“Mmmhmmm,”
Delilah the waitress hummed, her lips tilting up in a smile.  “Just keep it
down, boys.  This is a nice, family-oriented bar.”

“Those words
don’t even
go
together,” Nick noted with a confused look at Grant.

Grant
shrugged while Devil simply inclined his head before the waitress turned to
sidle away from their table.  “Okay, if you’re done feeling Nick up, I think we
need to refocus our attention,” Devil said, keeping his voice low as the other
tables seemed to resume their own conversations.

“To what?”
Grant asked blankly.

“To what?”
Devil echoed in disbelief, “Are you kidding me right now?  How about we
concentrate on how the hell we relocate Armando from my guestroom back to his
own bed in his own place.  With
Nick
.”  Turning his attention back to
Nick, he asked, “How do you propose we go about straightening this mess out,
kid?”

“I really
wish you wouldn’t call me a kid.  I’m only a decade younger than you two,” Nick
complained, draining one glass of his Shiraz before reaching for the other that
had just been delivered to their table.  “It’s demeaning.”

“Okay, I
thought ‘kid’ was nice, but I could go with asshole, too,” Devil returned
reasonably.  “Does asshole work for you, Nick?”

“Point made,”
Nick muttered.

“Okay, here’s
the bottom line,
asshole
.  I would like to fuck my wife – long and hard
- sometime in the next century…”

“Whoa!” Grant
barked, quickly clapping his hands over his ears, “Uncool, bro!  I cannot hear
things like
that
about you and my baby sister.  I’ve still got two kids
to push through college and can’t afford the therapy those kind of blunt,
in-your-face statements cost me, Dev. Not unless you’re footing the bill for
Princeton and Yale.”

“Suck it up,
jackass.  You’re a freaking doctor.  I think you can afford it.  If you can’t,
I suggest you play catcher for a few more infants,” Devil dismissed Grant
easily before refocusing on Nick.  “Now, like I said, I’d really like to be
with my wife again and that’s not possible while the New Queen of Mean resides
in the guest suite.  Hell, Molly slept with
him
last night because she
didn’t want him to wake up
lonely. 
What kind of crazy ass shit is that?
” 
He supposed this shouldn’t have angered him as much as it had since it
wasn’t as though Molly would have willingly allowed him back into their bed,
but it was the whole principal of the matter.  If any man was gonna sleep with
his wife, it ought to be him, right?

“I’m not
surprised.  Armando despises sleeping alone.  I had a body pillow with my face
superimposed on it specially made for when I have out-of-town trips,” Nick
explained with a sad sigh.  “He never sleeps soundly while I’m gone, but that
pillow helps.”