Page 16 of The Backup Groom

Not believable at all.

“Don’t let those pretty faces fool you,” Dean said. “I know what I heard.”

“And what exactly was that?” I asked, taking the bait.

“Some elaborate scheme that starts with Amber getting married in a hurry.”

Glancing over at their table, I hoped Dean was wrong.

He had better be.

I had never seen Amber with a man, nor an engagement ring on her finger. I preferred it stayed that way, unless the other man I saw her with was me in the mirror.

“I heard the wordsdeadandfive million dollars,” Dean continued. “That was right when I knocked the cup off the table and scared the crap out of everyone, including myself. Either way, my deduction skills have led me to believe that Amber is going to marry a man, kill him, and collect five million dollars from the life insurance policy. A straightforward murder-mystery, but I need more information to connect the dots.”

“You need more sleep to connect your brain cells,” I kidded.

Dean ignored me and pointed to the panini press after it dinged. “Perfect timing. I’ll take the sandwiches back over there and see what else I can dig up.”

I clutched his arm to stop his momentum. “Don’t even think about it. I’ll handle it.”

“Okay, but check out Stella’s laptop. I saw the profile of a man, maybe the guy they’re thinking of knocking off. We need to warn him of his impending doom, or the blood will be on our hands, mister.”

“Seriously, you need to stop watchingMurdoch Mysteries.” I placed the sandwiches in baskets, along with two bags of chips, and stepped out from around the counter.

As I approached their table from behind, Amber pointed to Stella’s laptop. “This guy looks like he’s in the Mafia. I don’t want to end up in a body bag.”

“This isn’t a Quentin Tarantino movie,” Stella said. “Get him to go out with you. One date is all it takes to set the plan in motion. A year from now, we’ll be sipping Mai Tais on a beach in Bora Bora, while you try to figure out what you’re going to do with all that money. Andhewill be history.”

I froze, both bags of potato chips falling to the floor.

Amber and Stella cranked their heads in my direction, then Amber reached over and slammed shut the laptop. “Good timing—I’m famished.”

I scooped the bags off the floor, then set the food on the table in front of them. “Two Terminators.”

“Thank you,” they said in unison.

Amber took a big bite of her sandwich. “This sandwich isto diefor. I would kill to have the recipe of the chipotle sauce.”

Never has the name of a sandwich been more appropriate for my customers.

ChapterFour

Amber

Most weekends, you could find me stocking up on groceries for the week at Trader Joe’s, Sprouts, Costco, or even one of the local farmers’ markets. One of my favorite things to do was to sample and buy fresh fruit, vegetables, and spices.

Today, I was shopping for a husband.

“This is so weird,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief.

“Keep your eyes on the prize,” Stella said, turning right on Garnet Avenue toward the beach. “Think of your future. Think of all the reasons this is going to change your life for the better. You deserve this.”

Stella always knew how to calm my nerves. I’m glad I convinced her to come along with me or surely I would’ve chickened out. Maybe that was why she said she would drive, so I couldn’t use some excuse like I ran out of gas or my car broke down.

Our destination was an open house two blocks from the water in Pacific Beach, a three-bedroom home listed for three million dollars. I wasn’t looking for ways to spend the inheritance I didn’t have yet. Instead, I was going to meet the first of four Ryan Scotts we had found online during lunch at the coffee shop next door.

This particular Ryan was a successful real estate agent according to his website, which also touted the impressive number of homes he had sold over the last ten years. Stella had come up with the great idea of giving all my potential husbands nicknames, and we’d be able to keep track of which Ryan we were talking about during any conversation.