“That’s what I was thinking. I’ll just cash in whatever can be liquidated—sell the house and belongings, take whatever money he has, and leave. We will have to go to Vegas to settle everything after this goddamn funeral, though.”
“No one’s going to kill you on sight, right?”
I smile faintly. “Hope not. That would suck.”
“Maybe a little. I’d have to go all gun moll and take out some mobster assholes.”
I move my arm, snaking it under her and drawing her closer. “Aw, you’d avenge me?”
“Of course,” she says, snuggling close to me. “I kind of prefer you staying alive though. I’d rather drink milkshakes with you and Laurel than go after your murderer. That sounds like a real drag.”
“Plus, if I die, I’m never going to find out which mug she picks out for me this year.”
Carly smiles up at me. “See? You have so much to live for.”
A little more seriously, I tell her, “As long as I have you, I do.”
Smiling tenderly, she brings a hand up to caress my cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
—
I do not go to pre-dinner drinks. Carly and I are running a little late getting ready anyway, but to be frank, I just have no fucking desire to sit in the study and drink with the assholes who have killed or stolen every shred of love or happiness I’ve ever had in my life. All I want to do is keep my new source of love and happiness far away from them and survive this week of Hell.
Since it is Easter weekend, we couldn’t arrange the funeral until Monday. It’s Wednesday now and we’re on steady ground, so we only have to survive five more days. That’s not so many days, right?
We make our way to the dining room, hand-in-hand, just in time for the drinks to be poured. It’s not a Sunday or a holiday, so not everyone is here, but I see right away the seating arrangement has changed drastically since I lived here. Mateo used to head the table with Adrian at the foot. Mateo used to be flanked by Mia and Meg. Mateo remains at the head of the table, of course, with Mia to his left, but now Adrian sits on Mateo’s other side across from Mia, in Meg’s old spot. Meg sits down near the foot of the table now, across from Alec.
Since Mateo’s a dick, there are exactly two empty spots for us tonight—one beside Adrian, one beside Mia.
Carly drops into the seat next to Mia so I don’t have to.
Of course, that puts me right next to Adrian and looking directly at Mia and Carly while I eat. I slide Mateo a look to let him know he’s a dick. He smiles.
“This is cozy,” I remark.
“It’ll be even cozier Sunday,” Adrian replies.
“Where’s your wife?” Carly asks, pleasantly enough. “I figured she’d be at dinner.”
Adrian flicks a glance at Carly. “She decided to stay with the kids tonight.”
“We all got to spend some time together today,” Mia announces, looking quite pleased with life. “We were discussing Disney World.”
Adrian heaves a sigh. “I think I’d rather kill a guy than hear more about Disney World.”
“I don’t think, I know,” Mateo agrees.
“It’s going to be great,” Mia informs them. “You’re both going to love it.”
“Adrian can love it for me,” Mateo tells her. “I’ll live vicariously through the 8,000 pictures you’re sure to send me.”
“On the first day,” Adrian adds.
Mia raises her eyebrows innocently. “It didn’t go so well last time you let me out of your sight for a whole week. That’s all I’m saying.”
Mateo regards her with a dry look. “Yes, well, Adrian wouldn’t send you back with the same kind of souvenir Vince did.”
Adrian snorts. “That’s a safe bet.”
Carly stares at the table, grimacing like she can’t believe they’re joking about this.
Seeing we’re both uncomfortable, Mia changes the subject. “Anyway, Carly gave me a cute Easter craft idea to do with the babies. I don’t know if we’ll be able to keep Roman still long enough to do it, but I definitely want to do it with Dom. Little carrot footprints.”
“Sounds fascinating,” Mateo deadpans.
“They’ll be cute,” she says, leaning back as Maria delivers her salad. “Thank you, Maria.”
Maria nods and drops a third salad off for Adrian before heading back to the kitchen.
“So, is Adrian your new second wife?” I ask, since he has Meg’s old place at the table.
“Mia’s second husband,” Adrian states, no humor in his voice. “Should’ve kept your cool; could’ve been you.”
Even though she mostly avoids doing so, Mia addresses me. “He’s joking, obviously. Dante dubbed Adrian my second husband—all the work, none of the perks—and it kinda stuck. Everyone but Elise is in on the running joke.”
“Yes, we don’t tell that joke in front of Elise,” Adrian agrees.
I nod. “Make sure to bring it up in front of Elise. Got it.”