She casts me a tentative look as she sits. “Hi, Carly.”
With unrestrained friendliness to let her know we’re cool, I say, “Hi. I love your dress. You look so pretty.”
Her gaze jumps past me to Vince, like he can help explain, then back to Mateo, to see if he can answer her question. Poor Mia, she’s probably so accustomed to taking blame for all the bullshit these ill-behaving men pile on her. I can’t help myself from giving her hand a supportive pat. I really wish I could be her friend without her husband ruining all our lives, but that’s obviously not possible.
Mia is confused, but apparently relieved. Her gaze catches on the token brunette at the table and she frowns. “Did Alec bring a girl?”
Laurel leans forward to glare at Alec, and he neatly avoids her gaze.
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “Nope, this is my sister Laurel. Your husband was… gracious enough to invite her for Easter so we could spend some time together while we’re in the city.”
Mia lights up, placing her hand over his on the table. “Aw, that was nice.”
He shrugs modestly. “The mood hits me every now and then.”
I roll my eyes, hard.
Mia reaches across the table to shake Laurel’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Mia, Mateo’s wife. I just love your sister.”
“I’m pretty fond of her myself,” Laurel offers back.
The table slowly fills up, men and women finding their seats. Adrian is still across from Mia tonight, but the seat between him and Laurel is empty.
“No wife tonight?” I ask Adrian.
He shakes his head. “Nope. Candace has to eat every half hour right now, so it’s just easier for Elise to stay home.”
“Why don’t you stay home with her?” I ask, before adding quickly, “Not that we don’t enjoy your company, of course.”
Adrian nods his head in Mateo’s direction. “Gotta make sure no one kills this asshole.”
“That’s a hard job, I bet.”
Adrian smirks. “You have no idea.”
I sense movement behind me again and then suddenly someone is leaning down next to me, looping a strong arm around Mia’s shoulders and pressing an affectionate kiss to the crown of her head.
“Hello, little one.”
Mia looks up at him, smiling warmly. “What are you doing here? I thought your flight wasn’t until tomorrow.”
“Your husband asked me to come a day early. Don’t we all exist to serve Mateo’s whims?”
He and Mateo exchange dry smiles. The golden-haired Adonis is dressed sharply in a navy blue suit with a black dress shirt open at the throat. He walks around the table and pulls back the chair between Laurel and Adrian, but halts before sitting.
His attention catches on Laurel and offers her a charming smile. “I don’t recognize this lovely face. Oh, I would definitely remember those lips. We haven’t met.” He takes her limp hand from the table and brings it to his lips. He kisses her knuckles and I can see Laurel struggling to breathe as she stares up at him, awestruck.
Oh no.
“I’m Rafe Morelli,” he offers.
She continues to stare, mouth slightly agape.
Now he cocks a golden eyebrow. “You have a name?”
“L—Laurel.” She shakes her head, trying to shake off her sudden paralysis, but her gaze rakes over him again and I can see the cogs in her poor brain failing. “I’m Laurel. Carly’s sister.”
“Who’s Carly?”
“I’m Carly,” I offer, though I’m none too friendly. This is Rafe? This is Vince’s cousin who possibly date-raped Mia in Vegas? He shouldn’t look like this! And he needs to stay far away from my sister.
Rafe is unshaken by my unfriendliness. He releases my sister’s hand and takes a seat beside her, telling me it’s a pleasure to meet me. I do not echo the sentiment.
“Carly is Vince’s girlfriend,” Mia explains, almost proudly.
Rafe cocks an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Nice work, little cousin.”
“Yes, it’s a great achievement to have a girlfriend,” Vince shoots back.
Rafe offers a smile, tinged with something unpleasant I can’t quite put a name to. “Well, you didn’t have to kidnap this one, right? So we’ll call it an achievement.”
Okay, so they’re probably not great friends.
“Wait, what?” Laurel looks so confused. Oh, this is so bad. Poor Laurel. She’s going to have so many questions, and she obviously does not know about Vince’s questionable past. She doesn’t even know about my questionable past.
This is a fucking disaster.
Before I can come up with a way to tell her “we’ll have to talk about it later” without alarming her, Rafe settles a hand over hers on the table and leans in. “Will you do me a favor?”
“Yes,” Laurel replies, rather adamantly, without finding out what it might be first.
Rafe rewards her with a warm smile. Laurel sighs like a cartoon bimbo in Beauty and the Beast, fawning over Gaston. “These inconsiderate assholes served the wine before I got here. Go grab the bottle from the kitchen and pour me a glass.”