“I seem to attract them.”
“Hey!” He punched her in the shoulder. “You dated me in high school. I’d like to think I was not a piece of fuck.”
She shoulder-checked him with a smile. “No, you were not. In fact, you were the highlight of high school.”
“Aww, shucks.” He shoulder-checked her back.
They stood watching a clown make a balloon penis hat for a groom in a bachelor party. Elyxandre laughed at how mortified the guy was, although he was taking the teasing of his buddies in stride.
She glanced at Tripoli. “That gonna be you soon?”
His eyes widened in horror, although they never left the group. “Fuck, no! God only knows what circle of stupid Cosmos would try to come up with for a bachelor party, so Francesca and I have told no one when we’re getting married. Or where.”
“Las Vegas?”
“Francesca said Las Vegas was too cheesy. She’s scared I’ll have us getting married in a drive-through chapel or by an Elvis impersonator. Like I’d do that to her. I was thinking of a classy hotel chapel. She suggested just going to the courthouse and calling it done so that it’s over with, but I want her to have an actual wedding with our friends.” His expression became hard but sad at the same time. “She won’t have blood family there, so she needs to have her friends there. Her chosen family.”
She stood on tiptoe and gave his cheek a quick peck. “You’re a good man, Tripoli. I wish there were more of you out there.”
He turned to look at her. “They’re out there, E. They’re not all like that douchebag you married.”
“Maybe. But he was enough to turn me off the whole idea of dating. And marriage? Hell to the no. Once was enough.”
“Never say never. Did you ever think I’d consider it?”
“I figured you would eventually. Not while you were in the Navy. Definitely not while deployed with the Raiders. Too dangerous, and you’d never put someone in the position oflosing you. Too much of a caretaker. Look at what you did for me.”
He put his arm around her again and kissed the side of her head. “I would have finished it that night, E. We all would have. Still will if he, or your piece of fuck ex-husband, comes at you again. You know that, right?”
She tossed her empty cotton candy cone in the nearby garbage, then grasped his hands in hers. With earnest eyes meeting his concerned gaze, she squeezed them tight. “I do. And thank you. I know I said it back then, but I’ll keep saying it. The five of you were the only way I survived that hell.”
She shuddered, remembering the final showdown between her father and Tripoli during her senior year of high school. He and their friends likely saved her life that fateful night. That experience would live with her for a long time. She no longer woke up terrified, screaming, and sweating in tangled-up sheets, but horrors like that did not go away with time, and she suppressed those memories as much as she could.
They began walking again, heading over to the Big Top, the outdoor tented dance floor. Multicolored strobe lights bounced in a frenzy as guests moved to the DJ spinning Lady Gaga’s “Just Dance.”
“Why isn’t Francesca with us?” she asked out of the blue. She had intended to ask him earlier when they left her in the office, but he had been explaining how the guys came up with the club's concept, and then she was completely distracted once she stepped into the labyrinth. “I thought we got along okay earlier. Is it weird for me to be here?”
“No. She’s more than secure with it. It’s just—” His face took on a pinched look as he surveyed the dance floor. He didn’t continue right away, and his shoulders bunched. He was processing.
After a few moments, he rolled them, tilting his head left, then right. He shoved his hands into his dress pants pockets, but she could tell he clenched them because they stuck out from his body. “Elysium had some trouble last year. Someone brutally tortured and murdered three women associated with the club. Francesca was the FBI agent in charge of the investigation, and the case turned out to be… personal. The club holds very uncomfortable memories for her. For all of us, really, but while everyone else seems to have bounced back, she feels more secure in the office than out wandering around.”
“I’m sorry. We could have met somewhere else.”
Shaking his head, he turned to face her, drawing his now-unclenched hands out of his pockets. “This was easier for you, and she said she needed to get out for a bit. However, she wanted to let me catch up with you one-on-one. We’ll have you out to the house another time.”
“I can’t wait to see it. Cosmos said it’s gorgeous, and it’s not even done yet.”
“Yeah. Francesca’s done a great job with the design.” He clapped his hands and turned, walking back toward the food trucks. “Hungry?” he asked. “My treat. I’m supposed to bring her birria quesadillas tonight.”
“Quesadillas?” she asked, emphasizing thes. “I saw someone with one earlier. They’re huge!”
“Yeah. She’s been craving them all day. Warning you now. We might have to just put them through the door, then lock her inside my office and go eat somewhere else. If we try to go in there with her, she’s likely to use her agent moves on us and hurt something vital.”
She put a hand on his arm, stopping him again. “Craving? Violence over food? Trip, are you holding out on us?”
He looked stunned for a second, then relaxed. “Umm… no?”
“Nice try, goofass. She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
