The Gunny & The Jazz Singer (Birchwood Falls #1) by Jane Leopold Quinn Page B

table,"
he snarled. "Yes, I plan to marry you. Just as soon as you see it's the
right thing to do. And for God's sake, get rid of that streak in your hair."
    Shaking, she rose and braced her
hand on the back of the chair. "I won't have you or anyone talk to me that
way. Good night, Butch. I will not marry you. Don't call me again." She
prayed he'd stay seated so she could get out of the dining room with some
dignity. The people at the next tables could hear them, but the whole place
didn't need to know what was going on.
    In the lobby she considered what
she should do next. The ladies' room beckoned. At least he couldn't follow her
there. She couldn't get away from the country club fast enough. But how?
    She supposed she could walk home.
But if he followed her outside, she'd be alone on the street. Surely he wouldn't
hurt her. Would he?
    Davy. He lived practically across
the street. She could make it that far. Slipping into the ladies' room, she
called to make sure he was home.
    "You stay put, Phoebs. I'll
walk over and get you."
    "I can walk the half-block to
your place, Davy." She heard a voice in the background before he muffled
the phone. "Davy! Do you have company?" Oh my God, he might have a date. What a mess. Damn Butch Wilcox. "Davy."
    "We'll be right over. Don't
argue with me, sweetie. Come on, Stu, we're going on a rescue mission."
    "Stu?"
    "We're coming." He
laughed uproariously and hung up.
    Phoebe sank onto a couch, shaking
her head. Stu? She had a feeling the
night was going to get crazier. This Stu had better be good to her friend.
    Even more important was what had
happened to Butch. Did he leave? Was he waiting in the lobby for her? Did he
even know where she went? Well, she'd just have to brave it and actually leave
the ladies' room. She got a call on her cell when Davy and his friend reached
the entrance to the club and went out to meet them.
    "Sweetie, what happened? Why
are you stranded in this den of luxury?"
    Before she spoke, she looked around
the parking lot but didn't see Butch's Jeep. Relieved, she then wondered if he'd
be camped in front of her house. He knew she'd get home eventually. "Let's
get out of here. I'll tell you while we walk."
    "Phoebs, this is my friend Stu
Pressman. Stu, meet Phoebe Barnes. Have you seen her at Marietty's?" Davy
slid an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. "She's the best singer
ever."
    "Hi, Stu. Nice to meet you."
He was a pretty good-looking guy—muscular, auburn hair tied back in a ponytail,
very dark eyes. She could see why Davy would be attracted to him.
    "I've seen you sing, Phoebe.
You're really good."
    "Well, that makes you my
newest favorite friend, Stu." She gave him a grateful smile.
    "Where do you want to go,
Phoebs?" Davy asked. "Back to my place for a while? It's only
eight-thirty."
    "Can you just walk me home? I've
had a long day." They'd already crossed the bridge over the Falls River
and were headed toward Courthouse Square.
    "Are you going to tell me what
happened?"
    The two men put her between them as
they walked. "Some other time? I really don't want to get into it now. I'd
like to push it to the back of my mind and think about something else."
    She nudged Davy's side and grinned
up at him. "Why don't you tell me where you two met?" She noticed the
two guys shared a glance, then a sweet smile. Oh boy, Davy looks happy. This guy better not break his heart.
    "At the paper. In the
lunchroom."
    "Oh, you work together?"
    "Stu's a reporter," Davy
replied. "I'm just the boring accountant."
    Phoebe looked at Stu for his
reaction.
    "Not even a little bit boring."
Stu reached across her and playfully punched Davy's arm. "I couldn't crunch
those numbers at all. I can barely balance my bank account."
    "What kind of stories do you
write?"
    "Almost anything. I'd like to
focus on crime, but there isn't that much of it here. Mostly speeding tickets,
some teenage pranks. I'm just getting started, but eventually I'd like to be in
a bigger market."
    Feeling Davy