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I’m hell-bent on making you a friend, whether you want one or not.
    “Give it to me straight, Avery. You’ve given us the evil eye since we walked into this place. So who lit the fuse on your tampon and what’s it going to take to prove neither of us is the enemy?”
     
    “You sure you want me to open another bottle?” Avery asked, her brown eyes narrowed in question. “The town hall starts in fifteen minutes.”
    “Definitely.” Sloan and Grier’s voices rang out in unison.
    “I work in magazine publishing,” Sloan added. “I know how to hold my liquor. Besides, what we don’t finish now we can pick up when we get back.”
    Avery shrugged, then got up and crossed to the lobby bar, a big laugh racking her shoulders. “I still can’t believe you said that.”
    Grier raised her half-full glass and added a merry chortle to Avery’s. “Me, too. Seriously, Sloan. That’s a real classy way to get to know someone.”
    Sloan felt a small blush creep up her neck. “Well, I wanted to make an impression.”
    Avery uncorked a new bottle of cabernet and walked back toward them, fresh glasses in hand. “You managed that.”
    “You just looked all stuffy. And I figured I’d either insult you or make you laugh. I’m glad it’s the latter. And, for what it’s worth, I meant what I said. Neither of us is the enemy.”
    “I’m glad, too.” Avery smiled as she poured, sincerity riding high in the depths of her eyes. “And I can tell.”
    As Avery finished the pours, Grier started peppering her with questions. “Tell us about this competition. I’ve been seeing signs for the past month, but since I’m persona non grata around here, there haven’t been a lot of people to ask.”
    Avery winced at that. “Kate’s been making it pretty hard for you.”
    Grier downed the last of her existing glass and reached for the new one. “You could say that again. That woman is a wicked iceberg with sharp edges.”
    “I’d like to tell you she’ll come around, but . . .” The word hung there between the three of them as Avery reached for her own glass. “Kate Winston came into this world a prickly bitch and not much changes her direction when she’s decided she doesn’t like someone. Seeing as how you’re directly in line to take something she wants, that makes you public enemy number one.”
    “Fabulous. Just freaking fabulous. I can’t go home and I’m not welcome here.”
    Sloan patted Grier’s arm, surprised her friend had even hinted at the incident that had her fleeing New York and heading for the Alaska wilds.
    Not sure if it was the liquor causing her friend’s tongue to loosen or a month of loneliness and rejection, Sloan decided a change in topic might keep Grier from saying anything else she might regret later. “So this bachelorette thing. What’s it about?”
    “It’s all cooked up by the town grandmothers.”
    “Is this one of the women Susan just mentioned helping out at the town hall?”
    “Yep.” Avery nodded. “Exactly. Julia Forsyth, who is Susan’s mother-in-law. Then there’s Mary O’Shaughnessy and Sophie Montgomery. Three more determined women you will never meet.”
    Any number of images filled her mind’s eye, but Sloan just couldn’t understand why a bunch of old women would be interested in such a thing. “What could these women possibly care about a bachelorette competition? It sounds like something cooked up by a beer distributor for Friday-night wet T-shirt contests.”
    “They care because they have three grandsons.” Avery leaned forward and reached for her wineglass, a dark mask descending across her gaze. “Three very eligible grandsons.”
    “This is all an exercise to get their grandsons married?” Grier’s eye widened. “This big thing they keep talking about that’s so great for tourism is all about getting these guys married off?”
    “Pretty much,” Avery agreed. “And from what I’ve heard, all three ladies are spitting mad it hasn’t paid