I rubbed the heel of my hand over my forehead. "That's a lot of people. You think all of them will come?" I asked.
"Most of them," she agreed. “Wolf Venom is touring at the moment. So they probably won't. That makes things easier since most of them don't get along with Reuben anyway. It would be rude not to send them an invitation."
"Wouldn't want to be rude," Ares muttered.
"Of course not." Chelsea smiled. "Not when it comes to people like that. Most of the Smashers will come. The Demons as well. All of them know how to have a good time. All of them know to keep an eye on Caleb."
"Oh," I said. "You're good at this."
It shouldn't surprise me she'd immediately thought of everyone who knew Caleb and what he was like. All of themwould be ready for suspicious behaviour from him or anyone else. They were basically wired for it at this point.
She was also right that two teams of professional athletes knew how to have fun. The Dusk Bay Demons were the local ice hockey team. Many were involved in Reuben's business, if not all of them. They'd come to his assistance on more than one occasion.
Rumour had it, they knew how to use those knife shoes they wore on the ice. As knives.
I pulled out my phone and started to make a list of names.
Ares looked over my shoulder and scowled as the list grew longer.
"Do we need that many people?" he asked. "More than ten seems excessive."
"If we only invited ten people, we wouldn't even invite Reuben or Caleb," I said over my shoulder.
“Exactly." Ares seemed to like that idea.
"This will be closer to a hundred," Chelsea said with a laugh.
"I have a migraine that night," Ares grumbled.
I reached back to pat his firm bicep. Was it harder than when I met him? None of the guys had let up on working out in all the years we'd known each other.
'It's only one night. We can get through it. Which reminds me, the next thing on the list should be lots of alcohol.'"
"I don't think Dusk Bay has enough alcohol in it for this party.” Ares sighed out his nose.
"It won't be that bad," Chelsea said. "A few decorations, some Christmas lights, a bit of Christmas music?—"
"Fucking Christmas music." Ares sounded more disgusted at that than any other aspect of this entire party up until this point. As if he'd rather be surrounded by a thousand people than listen to “Jingle Bells.”
Okay, cheerful music and his personality weren't a match I'd naturally make, but we could pick something more suitable. Couldn't we? There must be some Christmas songs out there that were a little darker or a little louder.
Honestly, I couldn't picture Reuben singing along to “Away in a Manger” anyway. On the other hand, I’d be sure that was on the playlist, just in case.
"Why don't we put you in charge of the food?" I asked Ares. That would give him something to focus on, rather than being irritated that this was happening in the first place.
"Can I order pizza?" He gave me the side eye, as if daring me to tell him no.
"No," I said regretfully. "We need actual Christmas-y food. Maybe someone to cater the party."
He perked up slightly. So slight I would have missed it if I didn't know him as well as I did.
"All I have to do is hire someone.” He looked like it couldn't possibly be that simple.
Suppressing a wince, I said, "Hire someone and work out a menu with them, yes. They'll have lots of suggestions."
Probably. Wasn't that how it worked?
"Lots of finger food," Chelsea said. "Not actual fingers."
