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Carmine introduces me to his wife, Brice. “I’m happy you came,” she says warmly.
A tall man with a puckered scar on his mouth shakes my hand. “Great to meet you too. I’m Ford. My wife is Kat.”
“Nice to meet you,” Kat says, grinning at me. “I never thought Lanzo would ever meet someone so… normal.”
“She’s far from normal,” Lanzo says, introducing me to Gareth and his wife, Fiona, then Evander and his wife, Camille. It’s a little overwhelming, but the girls seem nice. Way more normal and down-to-earth than their husbands. Fiona steers me back to the table while the guys disappear to the bar to get drinks for everyone.
“I have to know,” Fiona says, sitting me down. “How did you end up with Lanzo?”
I wriggle slightly, uncomfortable with being the center of attention.
“From what I hear, the guy’s always traveling,” Kat puts in. “Doing, like, secret spy stuff.”
“I thought he was a hitman?” Brice looks confused. “He’s not a hitman?”
“More like a cyber mercenary mixed with a black ops special forces guy.” Camille laughs, shaking her head. “It sounds pretty crazy, right?”
“We met online,” I blurt out, not sure why. These women are intimidating—the youngest is probably a few years older than me still, and they’re all dressed in simple, elegant outfits, practically dripping with money. And here I am, looking like Lanzo dragged me in off the street.
In fact, everyone in this place looks like they sleep on silk. Now I understand his stupid mistress comment.
“Sounds about right,” Kat says. “I heard Lanzo spent six weeks in the Ukrainian countryside, hiding out in trenches, chasing after Russian commanders.”
“That can’t be true,” Camille cuts in, frowning. “Evander told me he was working in Germany hunting for Chinese spies.”
Fiona laughs, shaking her head. “And Gareth told me he does counter-insurgency work in Africa.”
Everyone looks at Brice. She grins sheepishly. “Carmine said he exports heroin from Afghanistan.”
A laugh rips from my throat. I can’t help myself. “Apparently I’m dating a drug-dealing black ops assassin spy thief. Except he mostly seems like a selfish jerk half the time.”
The girls give each other looks before they burst out laughing. Fiona pats my arm sympathetically. “We all have very complicated relationships with our respective husbands.” I’m not sure what that means, but I relax slightly.
“Don’t feel bad if it seems weird at first,” Brice adds, nodding. “Just how it goes with these Atlas boys. Besides, I’m pretty sure half this stuff isn’t true.”
“Lanzo’s into misinformation,” Kat says, leaning back in her seat. “I bet his real job is pretty boring. Probably in an office somewhere.”
They start chatting about their husbands. I lean back, glancing over toward the bar, and catch Lanzo watching me. His smile is tight, almost tense, like he’s worried about what I’m saying. I smile back, raising my eyebrows in a challenge. But Evander, the biggest of the group, puts an arm around Lanzo’s shoulders and steers him back into their conversation.
Turns out, the girls are really nice. I get along great with them, way better than I expected. I thought the wives of powerful men would be a bunch of princesses, but they remind me of my cousins growing up. Normal, smart, a little hardened, but good at heart.
“You should come out more often,” Brice says. “We get together at the Oak as much as we can, though I split my time between here and Philly.”
“Evander keeps me up in Chicago,” Camille says, shrugging. “But we try to come down here maybe once or twice a month.”
“That sounds really nice,” I say, smiling at the group. “I mean, the guys seem like best friends, so it’s nice you all get along.”
“Not many people understand what it’s like.” Kat shares a smile with Brice.
“Whatwhat’slike?” I look around, feeling strangely vulnerable. I don’t know Lanzo at all, and I’ve been thrown into the middle of this group of people that clearly are very comfortable with each other. I felt like an outsider the second we stepped into this place, but that feeling’s only magnified now.
“Being with a difficult guy like him.” Kat glances at the bar, toward her husband. “It’s hard, but it’s worth it.”
“Very worth it,” Brice agrees.
“If you two are talking about sex, I’m going to leave the table,” Fiona says, sitting up straight. “I mean it this time.”
Camille laughs, nudging her. “You’re such a prude, you know that?”
