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The question eats at me as the service closes with an eloquent eulogy about the many ways in which Brady was an upstanding citizen and not a diet version of the Wolf of Wall Street. When everyone bows their heads in prayer, I peek at Olivia across the aisle. Her eyes are wide open, not a trace of liquid, as she stares straight ahead.
As if she can sense my attention on her, Olivia’s head shifts to the side enough that our gazes meet.
I wonder if my eyes have ever seemed that cold, the blue indistinguishable from shards of ice. Her lips lift in a brief smirk just as the prayer ends and a chorus of amen echoes off the high ceilings. I watch in real time as her expression morphs into one of sorrow and she murmurs a belated amen.
Another few seconds and I know those cold eyes will be wet with unshed tears.
* * *
“It’s hot tub time, fuckers.” Anya pulls her dress over her head as she strides through the living room. “We’re heading to the rooftop pool in five.”
“I don’t know what strings you pulled to make it happen, but this is awesome.” Felicia turns around the room, eyes wide. “I’ve never seen a hotel room this big before.”
Anya sweeps past her toward the large bedroom. “This is just a hospitality suite. Wait until you see the penthouse.”
“Are you sure we shouldn’t just hang out here?” I ask. “We can raid the minibar.”
“That better be a joke.” Anya’s voice echoes off the high ceilings. “I didn’t pay for overnight shipping on this Agua de Coco two-piece not to show it off.”
Felicia still looks more than a little overwhelmed, but gestures toward the other bedroom. “I guess we’re sharing this one.”
I let her go ahead of me as I drag my feet. The room is nice, nicer than anything I’ve experienced in a very long time. A hotel room the size of a small apartment with two bedrooms, a fireplace and floor to ceiling windows overlooking the city that was booked at the last minute couldn’t have been cheap. Anya’s sister really pulled some strings.
But it’s hard for me to pay much attention to the opulent surroundings. All I can think about is what Anya said during the funeral service. The same question runs through my head on repeat.
Did someone kill Brady?
Luggage wheels clack on the marble floor as I follow them into the room. I might have gotten a dirty look from the bellhop when I insisted on bringing up my own bag. But I didn’t trust that Olivia wouldn’t figure out a way to get to it before it reached my room. I don’t need all of my clothes to be replaced with dildos or ripped to shreds. I’d like to think that she wouldn’t stoop that low, but I’m not taking any chances.
If I hadn’t already seen it coming, the abrupt change in tone after the funeral service might have caught me by surprise. The minute that the priest ended his prayer, everyone was up and moving.
St. Bart’s students have basically taken over the hotel. One of the Havoc Boys, I’m not even sure which, reserved the penthouse and most of the rooms on the next two floors are occupied by students of the school.
Felicia uses the adjoining bathroom to change, so I heft my suitcase on the bed and open it.
It takes about a second before I can’t ignore the elephant in the room anymore. Anya’s room is far enough away that I doubt she can hear us.
“Have you talked to your brother lately?”
It takes long enough for Felicia to respond that I almost ask again before I hear her hesitant voice through the door.
“Uh…no. He doesn’t check in with me all the often. Why?”
I stare at the door, practically visualizing her expression. “Does that bother you?”
“Does what bother me?”
“That Drake doesn’t acknowledge you in public. We wouldn’t even be here right now if Anya hadn’t gotten us a room.”
There is another long silence while I try to figure out if I’ve crossed a line by asking that question. Felicia’s relationship with her brother isn’t actually my business.
“He just wants to protect me,” Felicia says eventually. “Drake has always been a little overzealous about that.”
The patriarchy called and wants their totally outdated playbook back. “What does he think is going to happen?”
Felicia takes a sharp inhale before blowing it out. “The same thing that happened to you, I guess.”
There isn’t a good response to that.
