“Hey!” Brynn’s innocent smile doesn’t fool me for a second. “The Lady Mustangs had their meeting here today and I have to get everything reorganized again before I can open back up to the public.”

I drop my phone into my bag, thanking all the stars in the sky for the excuse to avoid Quinton for a little bit longer, and pull my keys out of the ignition.

“Their meeting?” I walk around my car until I join her on the sidewalk. “Aren’t you a Lady Mustang too?”

“Maybe technically, but not really.” She pulls open the door for me. “I mainly do the bar stuff during meetings. I’m not an active member or anything.”

“Is she trying to act like she’s not a Lady Mustang?” Vonnie sets her martini on the table and even though I was a firm no when it came to drinking this morning, now I’m only slightly dedicated to that declaration.

I nod my head. “Yeah, she’s basically saying she’s just the host.”

“And I am!” Brynn laughs and I think she was going for carefree, but sounds slightly hysterical instead.

“Tanya!” Vonnie yells across the room to one of the other servers. “How many drinks did Brynn make today?”

“Is that a trick question?” Tanya grabs a couple of empty glasses behind the bar. “Zero. You know she was talking about balloons for the holiday party the entire time.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” Brynn snaps before aiming her glare my way. “This is all your fault.”

How did I get pulled into this? “My fault?”

“Yes.” She puts her hands on her hips and says it in a way that’s so matter-of-fact that maybe it is my fault. What do I know anyways? I’m still the dummy creep who kissed my kinda-boss. “If you hadn’t made last night so amazing with those damn balloons everywhere, I wouldn’t have gotten the bug to throw an event and I wouldn’t have participated today. But you did, then I did, so it’s your fault.”

I don’t know what I hate more—her flawed logic or that her flawed logic actually makes so much sense to me?

“So what about last month’s meeting? Or all of the meetings last year? Your participation in those meetings is Elle’s fault too?”

Phew! I was just about to take responsibility for it too!

“Shut up.” Brynn collapses into the chair next to Vonnie. “You know I hate it when you’re right and I’m called out.”

Vonnie picks up her martini and stares Brynn down over the rim. “I’m always right, you should be used to it by now.”

This is the adult version of “The Song That Never Ends.” Brynn leans forward, ready to refute, when the front door opens. Liv’s long legs walk in first, but Marie’s voice leads the way.