If there was ever a phrase to set off alarm bells, it was that. Marcie frowned, glancing at Cathal. "Pick you up?" she repeated, concern warring with annoyance on her face, but not in her voice. "Why? Where are you?"
She was trying to remember how many wines she'd had. Only two, she thought, with dinner and then over the game. Cathal had probably had less, he hadn't been the one sneaking the end of the bottle into his glass.