Brit scrunched up her face. “No. He never does anything without a reason.”
“Well, I’m going upstairs to get ready.” Addison pushed off the sofa, held out her hand. “C’mon.”
Brit dressed in a long-sleeved, black knit dress with a modest side slit, and bright pink platform boots. She pulled her hair into a ponytail, leaving tendrils framing her face.
Down the hall she went, into Addison’s bedroom. She found her in the bathroom, putting on her makeup.
“We did that sister thing again,” Brit said. “We dressed alike.”
Addison wore a black, cashmere dress, though hers had three-quarter sleeves and a V-neckline. On her feet were open-toed black stilettos.
“I think it’s because Mom dressed us alike all the time,” Addison said. “We look different enough. You’re wearing a choker. I left my hair down. Our shoes don’t match. We look great.”
“You’re right.” Brit began rummaging through Addison’s makeup drawer for blush.
Twenty minutes later, the rideshare dropped them in front of the popular Georgetown Italian restaurant. In they went, down the stairs, and over to the maître d’ stand.
“Good evening, ladies. Reservations?”
“Three, under the name Z,” Addison said.
“Yes, Mr. Z reserved our private dining table.” He collected two menus and escorted them to the back of the crowded restaurant.
The dining table stood in the back of the spacious restaurant, tucked behind a partial wall.
Z glanced up from the menu, and a grin split his face. After hugging both of them, he sat back down at the head of the table while the sisters sat across from each other.
“You both look beautiful,” he said. “Tonight, we celebrate that you live close and I can see you all the time.”
The sisters exchanged glances.
After Addison gave her an “I told you so” look, Addison said, “I’m happy you moved back too, Brit.”
They raised their water goblets, clinked, and sipped.
“Britain, where are you staying?” their dad asked.
“With Addison and Hawk, but I’ve been thinking about moving into your condo.”
“I’m putting it on the market,” he said. “New flooring goes in this week, then I’ve scheduled painters.”
Brit’s shoulders dropped. She loved her sister, but she couldn’t stay there indefinitely.
The server appeared, a bottle of wine in his hand. “Good evening. My name is Pierre and I’ll be taking care of you this evening.” He showed Z the bottle.
“Girls, red wine?”
“Absolutely,” Addison said.
“I could drink an entire bottle,” Brit murmured.
Z nodded, the server uncorked, and poured a small amount into Z’s glass. He sniffed, sipped, and nodded.
Wine was poured, the server mentioned the specials. “Are we ready or do we need more time?”
Brit hadn’t eaten since breakfast at Rebel’s. Her stomach ache had started after seeing Kayleen’s body stuffed in the closet, and it hadn’t stopped. But she had to eat something.
Small salads to start. Brit ordered the eggplant lasagna. Addison chose the chicken breast with ravioli, and Z selected one of the dinner specials.
