Page 36 of Breaking All The Rules
Bea tried not to smile at the sidekicks who’d clearly been here before. “I guess it’s kinda hard to get laid if you’re a funeral director,” she said sympathetically.
Even one who looked like Drew.
He turned to his friends. “Now see? Bea’s been here for five minutes and she already understands my conundrum.”
Bea shrugged. This was what she did. Or what she’d done anyway. It was what she’d been good at. Identifying what the client needed even if they didn’t know what it was.
“We understand there’s nothing sexy about the word mortician,” Arlo said derisively. “We’ve just heard you talking about it a million times.”
“Yeah.” Bea winced. “Mortician is a hard sell. What you need is a rebrand.”
A portal opened up in her brain just then as images for an advertising campaign she could run for this guy who should be able to sell just about anything—even coffins. But she quickly shut it down. She was at a bar in her town of choice, having a beer and meeting people. This was her world now, not the one she’d left behind, because it had chewed her up and spat her out without so much as a thank-you.
“Yes.” Drew took a swig of his beer. “I’ve been trying on alternative names for a while now, but nothing seems to pop.”
“What have you come up with so far?”
“I was leaning toward bereavement agent,” Drew said.
“Personally, I thought life celebrant was a winner,” Tucker offered with heavy sarcasm.
“Nope.” Arlo shook his head. “Afterlife liaison has been the best yet.”
Bea blinked at the suggestions and the banter. It was clear these three guys knew one another well. “Right…well, they’re a good starting point.”
Arlo and Tucker laughed as Drew sighed and took a big swig of his beer. “Wait,” Tucker said, “I got one. How about”—he palmed the air as if he was reading a sign—“Drew Carmichael, your local last responder?”
There was more laughter, but Drew was clearly unamused. “Oh yeah. That’s hysterical. You should totally give up your day job for stand-up comedy.”
“Hey.” Tucker feigned insult but ruined it with a huge grin. “Della thinks I’m hilarious.”
Arlo snorted. “My sister thinks you poop sparkly unicorn glitter.”
“Dude, I do poop sparkly unicorn glitter!”
Bea, waiting to get a word in edgewise, glanced at Austin. He rolled his eyes, then winked at her, and her pulse skipped. Why was it that, sitting in the midst of these truly remarkable-looking guys who were all about her age, it was twenty-five-year-old Austin who made her heart pump a little faster? He was looking at her like she was the best thing that had happened to him today, and Bea felt that right down to her toes.
She’d been in a few relationships over the years, but she’d never been with a guy who made her feel with one glance like she was the best part of his day, and that was heady.
Maybe it wouldn’t be that crazy to just dive in to Austin and go for it?
“Who poops unicorn glitter?” asked a female voice from behind.
“Oh, Jesus,” Arlo muttered under his breath as Bea turned in her chair to discover the owner of the voice.
“I do,” Tucker said with a smile. “How you doing, Winona?”
Winona was a tall, imposing figure of a woman in that Xena: Warrior Princess way. Bea’s grandmother would call her big-boned. She had a head full of bouncy caramel curls and a mischievous glint in her eyes and held herself like she was the queen of everything she surveyed. Bea liked her instantly.
“Fabulous, thank you, Tucker. Just fabulous. Hey, Drew. Hey, Austin.” She nodded at them both. Her smile became cooler as she acknowledged Arlo. “Evening, Cap’n Nemo.”
“Winona,” Arlo acknowledged. “You’ve been quiet of late.”
She shrugged. “On deadline.”
Deadline? Hmm…interesting. Bea eyed the other woman speculatively. What did Winona do that had her on deadline?
“Have you missed me?” she asked Arlo with a small, wry smile on her lips.
