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“Oh God, please don’t. I’m already in for a ton of grief tomorrow.”
I see what she means, but I’m still not sorry. “If anybody has a problem, you send them my way.”
Her smile is a little sad. “Remember, I wouldn’t know how to tell them to find you.”
“Good point.” I don’t need any extra complications, which is exactly what this girl presents. So why do I have to bite my tongue to keep from offering her my number? I have a job to do, and the last thing I need is to give my target’s cousin my phone number. That’s a rookie mistake, and I am no rookie.
But damn if it isn’t tempting. Especially when I remember how happy and proud she looked when I set everybody straight. She needs more of that in her life. She needs somebody like me to say the things she can’t find the words for.
At least now that the meal is over, there’s no reason for the family to sit together. All I got when I asked Ainsley to dance was a blank-faced stare, so I guess that’s out. Works for me since I’m not much of a dancer. That’s not where my skill lies. Instead, we walk around the venue, getting drinks at the bar before stepping outside, where other guests drink and smoke.
Paul is one of them, standing with a group of guys who probably shouldn’t get behind the wheel of a car tonight for the sake of everybody else on the road.
“Nah, it was too much of a hassle,” he announces loudly. “All the shit you have to do before the wedding? I don’t have time for that, and that’s what I told Michael.”
Ainsley snorts from our end of the deck, keeping her face turned forward. “He’s so full of crap. Michael didn’t ask him because nobody likes him.”
“And there I was, thinking the guy couldn’t have any sense if he was marrying into your family.”
“They aren’t all bad, really. Caroline’s actually nice. Sometimes I wish she wouldn’t be, so then I wouldn’t feel bad for hating her.”
“You hate her?” Paul’s drunk as hell and destined to be worse still by the end of the night. A low railing runs along the perimeter of the deck we’re now standing on, and underneath it is what has to be a man-made stream, lined with decorative boulders on either side. It wouldn’t take anything to break the fucker’s neck and throw him over the side to make it look like an accident. I lean over the rail to look down. It’s at least a twenty-foot drop. There are no cameras out here, either.
Ainsley, unaware of this, shrugs. “Not really. You know what I mean. She’s so perfect. I can’t help it.”
Perfect? I look over my shoulder, and from where I’m standing, there is a clear view of the dance floor. The bride is dancing like nobody’s watching, as the saying goes, with her bridesmaids gathered around her. They remind me of a bunch of Barbie dolls—the Basic Bitch line. “She’s all right, if you’re into vapid bleached blondes.”
“You don’t even know her. You can’t say she’s vapid.”
“But she bleaches her hair.”
“Okay, yeah. I’ll give you that. But that’s not a crime.”
“As far as I’m concerned, if your cousin ever heard her brother talk to you the way he did today and let him get to the end of it without kicking him in the balls, she’s not worth my esteem.”
She tries to laugh it off until she sees how very serious I am as I stare down at her. “You mean that, don’t you?”
“Entirely. These people? They’re nothing. They don’t have a fraction of your character—and I don’t think I’ve ever complimented anyone on their character before, so that makes you unique.”
“How do you know about my character?”
“Same way I knew about your father’s job. I did my research.”
“You’d better be careful,” she warns, solemn. “You might be able to laugh it off, but he’s got friends in high places. I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to you because you were defending me.”
“I have nothing to worry about.”
When she lifts an eyebrow, there is a moment I have to ask myself if she knows more than she’s letting on. But that’s impossible. She doesn’t know me at all, only what I’ve shown her so far.
“I guess you do look like a guy who is not afraid of anything.” She squints her eyes, examining me curiously. “The tattoo on the back of your hand for example. What’s that all about?”
“It’s a long story. A family thing.”
“You have a family?”
“No, I hatched from an egg somebody picked up on the beach.” She only rolls her eyes while I chuckle at her reaction. “Yes, I have a family. Two brothers. I haven’t seen them in a long time.”
“Do they live far away?” I nod. “Do they have matching tattoos?”
