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STAR
LATER THAT AFTERNOON
“I’m telling you, Star, if you don’t stop canceling the goddamn ice sculptures for the gala, I will attack you with one when they show up at the event hall!” Rachel growled, her tone discordant with the way she was gently sweeping from side to side to get Sommer to burp.
“Why does it have to be ice? Do you know what a waste of money that is? The statues will literally be water by the time the event is over.”
“Yeah, but it’s fancy, and the whole place has a winter wonderland theme.”
“So use fake snow,” I snarled. “That’s wintry—”
The doorbell rang.
Giulia whistled. “Saved by the bell. You two are fucking intense when you’re arguing. That’s me saying that. Me. I’m more attitude than tits and since Samael, my tits are massive. You two need to take a chill pill.”
“She right. Chill pill. Where we buy?” Amara demanded, slamming her hands on the table. “Very stressful this is listening argue to you.”
“Wow, that was more garbled than usual,” Tiffany said kindly. “Is everything okay, Amara?”
“No. Stressed. They argue. Too much.” Amara scowled at me. “She want ice. Give ice. She ice lady, tak?”
Rachel sniffed. “Yes. I want ice. Give me ice, Star.”
The doorbell sounded again.
Because I needed a time-out, I got up and strolled away from the table. “Ice melts, Rachel. What you’ll end up with once the night is over is an expensive bucket of water. But if you feel like wasting funds that could go elsewhere, you know, like the dozens of shelters we’re establishing…”
I didn’t finish because her growl of exasperation told me my point had been successfully rammed home.
With a smug smile, I swaggered over to the door where I found a diminutive woman standing on the stoop as I spied her through the peephole.
Her hands, tucked in old-fashioned but well-kept leather gloves, pleated nervously around the handle of her purse as she hovered there in a coat that had seen better days but which had once been of good quality too.
The whole shabby/quality thing made me think she’d fallen on hard times.
As I tugged open the door, I asked, “Who are you?”
Bright spots of color peeped into being on her cheeks. “I’m looking for Rachel Laker. Is that you?”
“Why are you looking for her?”
Her shoulders quivered. “That’s between me and her.”
The mousy vibe grabbed my curiosity. “You been hurt by some asshole who needs to die?”
The woman reared back. “Excuse me?”
“Stop scaring my clients,” Rachel snapped, shoving me in the side as she hissed, “Who said you could open my door for me?”
“You had a baby attached to you.” I sniffed. “I thought I was being helpful.”
“Even when you’re dead, you won’t be helpful. You’ll somehow manage to orchestrate things from beyond the grave,” she muttered before pinning the stranger with a professional smile and holding out her hand. “I apologize for the unorthodox start. My name’s Rachel. And you are?”
“I’m Maria.” She bit her lip. “Bear told me to come to you when… I mean, Bear suggested you’d be able to help me.”
“You’re his ex-partner?” Rachel inquired.
My nose crinkled. “You’re Kendra’s mother? You?”
