“He’s a widower. She died.”
My stomach sinks to my feet, the weird jealousy I’d felt morphing into shame. I know how loss feels. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.
“Yeah.” Butch tightens his arm around Pam and pulls her in to kiss the top of her head. “Terrible, terrible thing.”
I don’t ask what happened. I don’t want to know.
After a long silence, punctuated by the din of chatting and music and laughter from the other tables, one of the Perkins leans in, his lips pursed, his eyes narrowed. “You know what, though? He’s around more this year. I saw him twice today.”
“Right? Last night, too. The Masquerade? He was there.” The Perkins nod, looking at each of us in turn.
“And the Dungeon!”
“It’s been like, years, since he even went to a Dungeon night.”
“Wonder if he’s back in the game.”
“That would make the ladies happy.”
“One lady, at least.” corrects Butch.
The Perkins both snort. One says, “The man could have as many as he wants.”
“Overlord’s a one-woman guy,” Butch says, dead certain of what he’s saying. “I imagine he always will be.”
“Isn’t it just tragic?” Pam looks like she might cry.
Butch, who’s older and surer and looks like he has more history in one little finger than me and the Perkins combined, nods. “Sure is.”
Damn my stupid heart.
Abruptly, the hum of conversation and the dull clatter of cutlery and plates quiets.
We all look at each other.
“What’s going on?” Max asks, while the Perkins crane their necks for a view of whatever’s got people whispering .
“By the door.” Pam’s mouth drops open. “Oh, my goodness.”
Butch turns to look, his eyebrows skyrocketing almost comically high. “Speak of the devil.”
24
Grace
My lungsand my heart and my stomach do a little jig. I really wish I hadn’t eaten the mousse.
On a deep inhalation, I turn and look, then immediately face front again.
Yep. Sure enough, it’s Liev.
The Overlord has descended amongst his citizens. It’s a big deal, apparently. The way everybody’s acting, you’d think it was the Dalai Lama.
“Ouuuuff, I’d forgotten how hot he is,” says Pam, fanning herself.
“What do you guys think he’s doing here?” a Perkins asks.
Butch and I are the only ones not craning our necks to see. He’s busy eating and watching me with a funny look on his face. I’m sitting here feeling weirdly hot and buzzing with energy.
