“Sort of. We mount him on the dartboard and take shots at his nuts. It’s terribly cathartic. I think this is actually Bob the Sixth. The Three Furies is a popular ritual.” Tyler patted Bob on the head.
“It’s one that has stood us in good stead, and as you are now officially a part of the Sisterhood, it is your duty to participate,” Piper said.
Norah wondered what sisterhood that was, exactly. “Oh, well I don’t do shots. I’m more a sedate gl
ass of wine or the occasional glass of Scotch kind of girl. And, really, I’m over it. Not even on the rebound.” Why should she waste time thinking about Pierce when she was already half crazy for a better man she wouldn’t let herself have?
Piper gave her a baleful glance. “Are you seriously not going to cooperate?”
The idea of throwing darts at Pierce’s junk in effigy was pretty appealing. All this mess had started with him. “Well, if it’s that important to you.”
“Damn straight.”
Adele set out a salted shot glass and poured the tequila while Tyler affixed Bob to one of the dart boards on the wall. A cheer went up around the bar.
“Okay Norah, you have to name him,” Tyler called.
“Pierce Vargas.”
“Here hangs the bastard Pierce Vargas, Asshole of the First Degree,” Tyler intoned. “Administering his sentence is Norah Burke, the Supremely Wronged Party. Norah, you may begin when ready.”
When in Rome. Norah took the shot, wincing at the burn as she bit the lime. God, tequila was nasty. Piper offered up the first dart and she took her position behind the line. After clearing the pucker from her face, Norah zeroed in on the doll less than eight feet away.
“Feel free to list his crimes.”
“For being a lying douchenozzle.”
Bringing Pierce’s smug, supercilious face to mind, she let the dart fly. It embedded in one of the arms. The crowd cheered.
“Not bad.” Piper nodded in approval. “Extra points for using ‘douchenozzle’ correctly in a sentence. That counts as first blood. Bet you can do better, though. Adele, bring on the Jack!”
“Shouldn’t I eat something first?” Norah tried to remember if she’d had lunch.
“We’ll order after you’re done. Don’t want to lose your momentum.”
If only my Chicago colleagues could see me now. She accepted the second glass. All those pretentious, self-absorbed professionals would consider this behavior completely unseemly. The idea made her grin as she took the second shot. The whiskey went down easier, smoothing some of the edges she hadn’t realized she’d been carrying around. Maybe they were on to something with this whole thing.
The dart Piper handed her felt warm in her palm.
“For not appreciating that I was the best thing to ever happen to you.”
You were supposed to exhale when throwing, right? Or maybe that was just archery. She couldn’t remember, but it seemed like a good idea, so when Norah stepped up to the line, she took a series of deep breaths as she aimed. On a last gust, she released with a snap. It hit a mere half inch below the desired target, to the collective groans of the audience.
“That’s okay, honey. You’ve still got one more to go,” Piper said.
Norah returned to the bar for the Jaeger.
“Hail, hail, the gang’s all here!” Turning, she saw Tucker crossing the bar, Cam, Mitch, and Liam Montgomery right behind.
Cam. Of course, he was here. Because it wasn’t enough that she should see him every day in a work capacity, and almost as often through all her Campbell family interactions. She really needed the Universe to mock her further by throwing him in her path some more with a Nana nana boo boo, look what you gave up for good measure.
God, he looked good. He also looked just a little bit pissed off. She wondered if Tucker and company had dragged him out of his cave like she’d been dragged out of hers.
“Who’s the poor bastard being skewered?” Tucker inquired.
By way of answer, Norah lifted the shot of Jaeger in a toast before tossing it back with a prayer that it would strengthen her resolve. Her cheeks felt flushed as she slapped the glass down on the bar and returned to position for her final shot.
“For my career, you unscrupulous, exploitive son of a bitch.” Norah flung the dart, wishing it was something more substantial, like a knife, as it zoomed forward and buried itself in the doll’s painted scrotum.