Free Fated Memories by Joan Carney Page B

already there. This woman was spooky.
    “Another virgin vodka and cranberry for me please. And it's my turn to buy this round so don't you dare take a dime from either of those two.” She handed over her credit card, and the waitress melted back into the crowd.
    Kitty felt a hand on the back of her chair and turned, thinking this couldn’t be the waitress coming back so soon. Nobody could be that fast.
    “Heeyy, McGrail, you never told me you were a Spice Girl, and who's this lovely lady with you?”
    Okay, he had her complete attention. Right height, athletic body, stylish, gorgeous eyes, and he'd called her lovely. All the perfect components. Except that drawn out ‘hey’ blew right into her face boosting her blood alcohol level a couple of points. This guy was seriously lit.
    “This is my cousin Kitty. Kitty, Marshall Doyle.” The bland expression on Maggie's face didn't match her congenial voice and Kitty wondered if these two had a history. She shook his offered hand anyway, and he took that as an invitation to join them, slithering right into the vacant chair beside her.
    “And this must be the brainiac boyfriend, huh?” Doyle extended his hand to Simon who took it without enthusiasm.
    “The name's Simon. And I’m not sure you'd call me a brainiac..."
    Maggie linked her arm through Simon’s and leaned her head on his shoulder. “Oh, honey, what Doyle means is that I told him you were more the academic type.” She stroked his muscular arm. “While you’re obviously fit, you’re not so much into sports as I am, that's all.”
    Simon caught on and played along. “Oh, yeah, right.” He patted her hand. “Maggie outshines me in sports, but we have other things in common. Don't we, sweetheart?” He kissed her chastely on the lips.
    This overacted performance turned Kitty’s stomach and Doyle didn’t seem too happy at that kiss. She tried to divert his attention, pointing to the stage and moving her finger right in front of his eyes so he’d have to follow it. “Oh my, check out that guy on stage. He's so into that song isn’t he? Do you know who he is?”
    “Yeah, that’s one of my buddies, he’s okay.” He stayed hyper-focused on Maggie, who clung to Simon’s arm and avoided Doyle’s gaze as much as possible. Since that little distraction hadn’t worked, Kitty would have to try another tack.
    “So, Doyle is it?” She rested her hand on his arm and squeezed it to get his attention. “What do you do for a living, Doyle?” Before he could answer, the magical drink fairy came back to their table.
    Once she’d served everyone, Simon took up the question with Doyle. “You were going to tell us what you do for a living, Doyle.”
    “Oh, yeah, well I'm a project engineer with Rawlings, one of the local companies here. I do feasibility studies and job cost analyses, that sort of thing,” Doyle explained in a self-important and condescending voice, slurring a little. “And what about you, Professor, what do you do?” He glared at Simon with eyebrows raised as if challenging him to come up with something better.
    What an asshole. Now Kitty understood why Maggie didn’t like him. The polite banter was a sham to keep the atmosphere pleasant around Simon, but she must be itching like crazy to tell this guy to bug off for good.
    Familiar with the game being played, the muscles in Simon’s jaw set tight, and his eyes bore into Doyle’s. He answered in a casual tone as if it wasn’t impressive at all. “My brothers and I own a thriving sheet-metal fabrication plant up in Wellsboro. It pulls in just under a couple mil a year.”
    Doyle had no reply, his eyes narrowing as he nodded in return. She didn't know Simon well enough to say he was telling the truth, but shutting Doyle down like that was awesome. You go, Simon! Kitty sent him telepathic cheers while Maggie gazed up at him doe-eyed.
    Doyle's buddy had finished his song, and the MC announced the next contestant. “Next up is Simon.