“She fucking lied to me, Viv. You know she’s a liar. You know she lied about who she was. She told me you knew. Unless she lied about that. Did she lie?”
“I know who she is, but—”
“It was fucking crazy to ever be with her to begin with,” I add, slurring the words a little toward the end. Talking is taking a lot more effort than normal right now.
She sniffs the air and scowls.
“You’re hungover.”
“Still partly drunk,” I correct her.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment,” I mutter, wishing she’d talk just a little softer and show my head some mercy.
“Why the fuck did you tell Bo that I’m the one who told you about Dixon? Who really told you? And why the hell did you blame her for not telling you instead of me?”
That has me all kinds of confused.
“What?”
“Answer my questions.”
I’m trying to understand her questions. Damn tequila.
“I didn’t tell Bo you told me anything. But then again, she lies, so that’s her lying again by putting words in my mouth. Cody told me. Why are you acting like you knew?”
She takes a step back, then she releases some hellacious groan that really annoys my already pissed off headache.
“Bo didn’t put words in your mouth, you asshole. Bo isn’t saying anything at all about the breakup. Bora just assumed it was me who told you, I guess. She is furious, because Bo called me the second she found out about Dixon being a cheater, and this is how she’s rewarded. Bora immediately broke up with him, by the way. Girl had no clue. And Dixon was trying to get a spot in Pretty Posh that is bigger than a secretary’s position. Because that’s what he is. He’s not a manager. At all. Never has been a manager. He was recently promoted as Billy Prize’s fucking secretary.”
I’m torn between laughing at the fact that pompous ass is a secretary and has been pretending to be a manager for years, and…
“Wait,” I say, holding my hand up. “Back up. What do you mean Bo called you when she found out?”
Viv sits down, and she goes over the other night step by step, slowly letting it sink into my alcohol-slowed brain. When it finally does, I swallow a hard knot in my throat.
“Let me guess, you talked to her like she was shit. Sort of like you do me. And Mom. And Dad if he pisses you off. Or Cody. Or Dustin. Or—”
“I get it,” I growl, interrupting her. “I’m an asshole. Motherfucker! Why the hell didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“Why? Because we’re so close?” She snorts. “You would have given me an I-told-you-so speech while I was trying not to let my life fall apart. You’re an insensitive asshole. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Do one thing wrong, and your mouth is lethal. So I asked Bo to give me a day or two to get my head wrapped around things, and what did you do? Crushed her for being a good person who cared enough to risk her relationship with our family just to let me know what was going on.”
My chest caves in on itself, and I sit back, reeling as everything comes crashing down on me.
“Oh shit,” I groan. Immediately, I jump up, then stagger because… Well, tequila.
“What are you doing?” Viv asks as I throw on my sneakers and grab my keys.
“What the hell do you think I’m doing?”
“You can’t drive. Hell, you can barely walk. Apologizing drunk is not a good idea.”
“Partially drunk,” I correct her.
She puffs out a breath while coming to jerk my keys out of my hand. “I’m only driving you there because Bo deserves an apology. I also want her to know I had nothing to do with you being an asshole.”
I don’t argue with her, and I rush her to my car. She drives like she’s just turned one-hundred, but I keep my mouth shut. It’s done enough damage lately. Apparently more than I even realized.