“Yeah, but maybe she gave up after I let Harvey have our sonograms,” Bryce says.
My jaw drops. “You gave that son of a bitch sonograms of your baby? Why?”
“It was a figurative flipping of the bird. Mom wanted to use our baby to earn brownie points from Vincent.”
That man’s apparently become sentimental with age and ill health. Too bad he hasn’t keeled over. For some reason, assholes seem to live forever. Probably not even Satan wants Vincent in hell.
Bryce continues, “I’m thrilled that my wife’s pregnant, and I’m pretty sure it happened when Mom drugged me. But thatdoesn’t mean I forgive her.” His jaw hardens. “I’ll never forgive her.”
Ares pats his shoulder. Bryce carries guilt from the kidnapping—that Ares got caught trying to help him escape. I carry it, too, but do my best not to show it too much because it bothers Ares. He did it so we’d be spared some trauma, not live with the weight of self-blame.
“She won’t stay down for long,” Bryce says. “Harvey warned me that she isn’t just fighting to take over the mob. She’s also fighting for her life. Vincent might not be so forgiving if she had anything to do with their younger brother’s death.”
“I wouldn’t put any stock in what a snake like Harvey says. He’s probably mixed in enough fiction and exaggeration to manipulate us. He’d do anything to take over from Vincent,” I say.
“Regardless, Mom’s a ticking time bomb. And she won’t tick forever.” Ares turns to me, his eyes concerned. “I’m worried she’s going to shift her focus to you.”
I shrug. “Let her. I’d love a chance to tell her what I really think about her.” For some reason, she hasn’t tried to mess with me since her failure with Jessica, at least not that I’ve noticed. No notes, no calls, nothing.
You’re just like me.
Fuck you, Mom. If I’m really like you, I hope I get to end you.
Bryce gives me a narrow, penetrating look, then scowls. “Don’t try to be a hero. She’s been patient, but when she’s pushed too far, she pushes back. She hit me when she got frustrated at my lack of cooperation.”
“Shehityou?” Ares looks incredulous.
“When? Where?” Bryce never said, and I never noticed.
“A while ago in the parking garage.” When we continue to stare, Bryce adds, “It was before I found out Fiona was pregnant.”
Typical. Mom always claims she loves us, but ultimately it’s just about her own selfish needs.
“I swear to God, when I see her—” Suddenly the fine hair on the back of my neck bristles. I stiffen, scanning the restaurant, and spot Klein walking behind the hostess.
The tension drains from my shoulders, but the prickling sensation lingers.
She’s holding tiger lilies.What are they for? Is she here to meet with her fiancé and her family? Giving a little gift to commemorate their engagement is so her, but the idea sits badly in my belly.
And what is she doing here in the first place? She shouldn’t even be in this restaurant. She’s allergic to seafood, and Chinese cuisine is known to use a lot of seafood and seafood-derived ingredients. When I take Klein out to lunch to discuss her performance and quarterly metric goals, I always select restaurants where she can eat safely. Shouldn’t her fiancé show at least that much consideration?
Maybe not. He couldn’t even get the ring sized right. Careless son of a bitch.
She sits at a table occupied by a party of three. I recognize the blonde there—some model I reviewed a couple of contracts for when she was younger and fresher, before Klein started working for me. I try to recall her name. Kiara? Karina? Whatever. She made an impression because she spent more time trying to come on to me than listening to my explanations about the legal terms. Her mother, present at the meeting, beamed like she couldn’t be more thrilled her barely legal child was acting like a cheap ho.
Some months ago, I ran into her at a social event. She acted excited to see me, and I smiled to avoid any awkwardness. Since that encounter, I’ve seen her at several places, a little too often to be mere coincidence. I just ignore her, since she’s too dumb to beworking for Mom or Harvey. She’s harmless, just annoying. Like a buzzing fly.
Does Klein know them?If so, how? She’s nothing like those weirdos.
“What are you looking at?” Ares asks.
“Klein’s here,” I say without taking my eyes off her. She’s so pretty with the flowers. The overhead lights hit the ring on her finger just right, making it glint. She adjusts the band position. I can’t help thinking it again:What kind of loser proposes with a ring that doesn’t fit?
Maybe that explains the tight set of her mouth. I’d be pissed if somebody gave me a shitty gift like that. Her smile is so pasted on, it looks painful. But her dinner companions don’t seem to notice as they speak. Karina, or whatever her name is, takes the tiger lilies from Klein and puts them aside like some sort of spam. How rude.
“Didn’t you say she’s allergic to seafood?” Bryce squints at the table. “Huh. That really is her.”
“Yeah.” I grind my teeth when the people at the table look at her ring. Is she trying to show off her new relationship status? She must really love the asshole who couldn’t get her ring size right. Maybe it’s a metaphor—his dick’s too small to fill her.
