Everyone stared at Lyman, momentarily stunned.
“Why not?” someone finally asked.
Lyman looked around at them, his expression full of disdain. “Because you all hog my wife's attention and I barely get any time with her.”
The group gaped at him, then quickly protested. “Lyman, that sounds so wrong! Don't say stuff like that!”
“Exactly! Anyone listening in would think I'm stealing your wife or something,” Randell added with a snort.
Everyone knew the unspoken rule: you don't mess with a friend's wife. No one here was that desperate.
Lyman just shrugged. “Doesn't matter. You're all banned from hanging out with her.”
“Alright, alright, we get it, you hopeless romantic,” Randell said, rolling his eyes. “If you don't want your wife overworked, just say so. Why drag us into it?”
Suddenly, Vinson Elliott chimed in, “Well, Lyman, you and Effie never even had a honeymoon. Why not let Randell organize a trip? You two can take it as a late honeymoon.”
Lyman shot Vinson a withering look. “Why would I want a crowd of third wheels on my honeymoon? I'm not crazy.”
Vinson was left speechless. He had to admit, Lyman had a point—but did he really have to be so dismissive?
Randell burst out laughing. “Nice one, Vinson. Great idea you had there.”
Vinson glared at Randell as if to say, “Fine, you do better.”
Randell was never one to back down from a challenge.
“Alright, I will!” he declared. Then he turned to Lyman. “My new resort on Whisperhollow Isle is about to open. I'm inviting the design team for a little celebration. You're okay with that, right?”
“No problem,” Lyman replied.
Vinson just sighed—there was no stopping them now.
“So it's settled, then,” Randell said.
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