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“Prosper?” Pinky’s voice called out to him from the kitchen doorway.
“Yeah, darlin’?”
“Everything okay at the club?”
“Right as rain,” he answered.
“Reno? He hasn’t gotten himself in a fix, has he?”
“A fix?” Prosper chuckled. “No, honey. Reno’s been behaving himself. Why?”
“Claire’s car just showed up on the security camera and she doesn’t look happy.” Pinky frowned.
“Honey, with all due respect, how the hell can you tell whether Claire is happy or unhappy by looking at a security monitor of her driving up the hill and sitting behind the windshield of a car?”
“I know my girls.” Pinky lifted her nose slightly in the air.
Prosper’s first thought upon seeing Claire was that his wife was right. By the anxious look on Claire’s face, this was no social call. Claire looked at Prosper as if she had never seen him before. The freckles that were sprinkled like tiny stars across her nose stood out in stark relief against the pale skin of her face.
“Have a seat, honey. I made ginger snaps just this morning. You want coffee, tea, or maybe lemonade?” Pinky asked.
“Could you make that a beer with a bourbon chaser instead?”
Pinky laughed at what she assumed was a joke. “It’s only eleven a.m.!”
“Is it really?” Claire looked confused for a moment, then sighed. “In that case, it’s gonna be one long day. You better leave the bottle and bring a glass for Prosper.”
“Honey, you know that man should not be drinking.” Pinky frowned.
“Trust me, today he’s gonna want to make an exception.” Claire’s tone was somber. “We all are.”
Pinky stole a look at her husband. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good, and worst of all—Prosper had not seen it coming.
In a flash, Pinky was back with a full supply of fortitude. On the large tray sat a pitcher of lemonade, a plateful of cookies, three tumblers filled with ice, three shot glasses, a six pack of Dos Equis, and a decanter of bourbon.
“Have a seat, Pinky,” Prosper told her.
“Well now, maybe Claire wants to speak to you privately.” Pinky threw a look at Claire.
“Darlin’, you know damn well that you’re gonna be bent over and listening through that door anyway. Might as well save yourself the trouble.” Prosper snorted.
Pinky reddened in embarrassment because Prosper was not wrong.
She took a seat at the table.
Claire grabbed an ice cold beer and swallowed down half a bottle with a trembling hand. Then she reached for the bourbon, poured out two fingers full, and downed the shot in one large gulp. Prosper sat silently while Claire’s eyes teared up from the strong drink.
“I’m not sure where to start,” she blurted out.
“How about the damn beginning?” Prosper growled. Concern for Claire made the tenor of his voice gruffer than he meant it to be.
Pinky placed a small steady hand on her husband’s knee and gave it a quick squeeze. “What Prosper means to say is, we’ll do our best to help you with whatever brought you here today, Claire. Isn’t that right, Prosper?”
“You’ve suddenly taken on the job of speaking for me, wife?” He growled at her, “You managing me?”
“I would never dream of it,” Pinky said as she winked at Claire.
Claire took a deep breath and stared at Prosper in that searching way again.
