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Nathan:Why is everyone afraid of Mack??
Harold:Because we know who we’re dealing with. Which you obviously don’t.
Nathan:One game? We can even play in Hemingway. I’ll get ready at Dad’s.
Harold:But the party is in Boston…don’t you know anything about this thing??
Isighed; I had thought working out my emotions on the court with Harold would be the antidote to my moodiness, but it looked like that was a no-go. I took off my shoes.
Nathan:Okay, I guess I’ll see you at the party, then.
Harold:That you will. See you soon.
Ispent the next couple of hours sitting on my couch, watching reruns of sitcoms on different streaming services, wrung out from the onslaught of emotions and memories. Then, it was time to get ready for the party.
When Mack had explained the details of the party, she’d ordered me to wear a suit.We’ll be at the Top of the Hub, so come correct, she told me in her bossy—I mean, stern—voice. I had only rolled my eyes but promised to dress appropriately and be on my best behavior.
Now, as I fixed my cuffs, I was even more unwilling to go to this thing than I had been when I heard the details. Putting on a suit and leaving the house to go interact with a bunch of people who knew me better than I knew myself seemed like a simple, straightforward kind of hell when I was in the mood I was in. I didn’t want to expound upon the fact that grief had hit me all at once and I was tired from the effect. And I definitely didn’t want to talk about it at a celebration.
The only thing that propelled me out of the house with any efficiency was the promise of seeing Ciara. I recalled what she looked like at Mack and John’s birthday party, the way she was the only person I could see. I laughed as I remembered what a fool I had been to propose to her in front of all those people. Now, weeks later and knowing Ciara more intimately, I realized what a nightmare that must have been for her.
And now, she’s going to be the center of attention once more,I thought ruefully.
I pulled up to the valet at the Prudential Center, handing my keys to the person receiving the car. Taking the elevator all the way up, I leaned against the wall and sighed. My heart raced, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the impending show I would have to put on, or if it was because seeing Ciara dressed up did something to me.
It didn’t matter because when the elevator opened, she was nowhere to be found.
I made a beeline to the bar, signaling to the bartender. “Gin and tonic, please,” I said.
“Getting started early, are we?”
I briefly closed my eyes before turning to the one voice that grated my nerves. Zeke. He stood a few feet behind me with his wife on his arm, a smirk on his face.
I schooled my own features into what I hoped was a cool but neutral expression. “Zeke. Glad you could make it.”
“Of course,” he said, looking around. “Had to see what possessed you to have what’s supposed to be acasualaffair in a venue that is anything but.”
“I don’t know what you’re referring to, but I let Ciara take the reins on this one,” I said, crossing my arms. “I think she did a fantastic job.”
He shrugged, still looking around. “Sure, if you’re flaunting how much money you’re marrying into,” he said. “Everyone knows that engagement parties are casual, usually in someone’s backyard or some shit. Maybe a bar if you’re lucky. Seems like your bride-to-be—Ciara, is it?—is getting too comfortable playing with our money.”
I felt my fists clench before I could stop them. “First of all, take my wife’s name out your mouth,” I growled through clenched teeth. “And secondly, she hasn’t done anything untoward withmymoney or anyone else’s. There’s nothing extravagant about having an engagement party here. You’re just trying to stir up trouble where there is none.”
“If there’s nothing to be stirred, then it’s not a problem.” Zeke laughed. “What’s wrong, cuz? Can’t handle the heat?”
“Or maybe it’s just that you’re insufferable.” Mack stepped into our semi-circle, raising an eyebrow at Zeke. The light reflected off her silvery, skintight dress, and combined with her loc mohawk hairstyle, she looked like a shiny, predatory shark. “Don’t you have a bridge to troll under?”
“Nice to see you too, cuz,” he said smoothly, turning his smirk on her. “New dress?”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Mack said, rolling her eyes. “But yes. Thank you.”
“I didn’t compliment you.”
Mack smiled, the gesture looking lethal. “It was implied.”
She turned to me, kissing me on the cheek and wiping her thumb over the spot. “Hey, big bro,” she said. “Your bride is waiting for you by the windows. You should probably go see about her.”
“Say less.” I nodded at Zeke’s wife, and then Zeke. “Later.”
