About twenty minutes later, I’m sitting in a maroon vinyl booth in the corner of Goldbergs, a strip-mall diner not far from Hannah’s place. I have my back to the wall and my eyes on the door, mobster-style, as I nurse a cup of black coffee.
Across from me is a very disheveled Grady, sucking down a Coke as he waits for his order of biscuits and gravy—a telltale sign of a hangover.
“So how are you holding up?” I ask, feigning sympathy that is in keeping with the text I sent him last night.
“Terrible,” he says.
“I know,” I say, shaking my head and practically making a tsking sound. “The whole thing is shocking.”
“So she didn’t tell you what she was going to do?”
“No. It was totally out of the blue,” I say, putting my acting chops to the test. “Tyson and I were floored. You two have always seemed so happy.”
“I thought we were,” he says. “But Hannah seems to think I cheated on her.”
“I know,” I say with a sigh.
“Why in the world does she think that?”
He is clearly trying to figure out what she knows. It’s a solid strategy, but this isn’t my first rodeo. “I have no clue,” I say. “I guess it’s a hunch?”
Grady nods, looking relieved. “Damn. I’m really worried about her. It’s not like her to be so paranoid.”
“Hmm,” I say, sipping my coffee, keeping the concerned look on my face.
As he rambles on, I spot Munich walking through the door in a ridiculous frilly getup. Her blond hair is freshly curled, and even from a distance, I can tell she’s wearing way too much makeup.
“Will you excuse me for one second, Grady?” I say as nonchalantly as I can.
“No problem,” he replies, immediately pulling out his phone.
I slide out of the booth and trot over to the door, smiling. Munich beams back at me, exposing a row of oversize snow-white veneers. They are all the same rectangular length, giving her a horsey smile.
“Hello!” I say. “Thank you for coming!”
“Oh, it’s my pleasure and honor. I’m such a big fan!” she gushes, pressing her left hand to the right side of her chest, where her heart isn’t.
“Thank you,” I say. “Would you like to come sit down? I have a table in the back.”
“I’d love to,” she says.
As I lead her back to the corner booth, I tell her I’ve heard great things about her “influencing” from our mutual friend, Liz.
“Oh, I’m so excited to help in any way I can,” she says, clearly oblivious to my connection with Hannah.
A second later, we reach the booth, where Grady is scarfing down his biscuits. He looks up midbite, sees us together, and knows in an instant that he’s been played. Again. His face falls, his lips covered with crumbs.
“Grady! Heeey,” Munich says, looking surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Oh my God! No way!” I say, slapping my thigh. “You two know each other? What a small world!”
I look at Grady, who has yet to utter a word, and say, “Don’t be shy. Scoot over and make room for Munich!”
“Oh. My name is Berlin,” she says, as Grady slides the whole way over to the wall with a look of sheer panic.
“My bad!” I say.
“It’s totally okay,” she says as we sit across from each other. “I can see how that could happen! They’re both cities in Germany, after all!”
I smile and nod, relishing every second of her idiocy. “So, now that we’re all here together, should we get down to business?” I say, resting both my forearms on the table, leaning into my killer instinct.
“Sure!” Munich says, pulling a day planner out of her white Birkin bag. “Should I be taking notes?”
“Up to you!” I say. “I’ll let Grady kick things off. Would you like to start by telling Berlin how you and I know each other?” I ask him. “Or should I?”
He stares back at me, mouth agape.
“Okay, then! I will!” I say, shifting my gaze to Munich. “So. Crazily enough, I went to college with Grady’s fiancée, Hannah. Oops. Ex-fiancée!”
Munich’s smile instantly evaporates. She freezes, a deer in headlights.
“Ex?” she says, her face turning red.
“Oh. I’m sorry. You didn’t hear the sad news?”
“No…I didn’t know,” she stammers. “I’m so sorry.”
“That’s funny. Because you didn’t look very sorry on Friday afternoon,” I say, dropping the mic.
