“We’re learning to co-exist,” I admit. “Was he bossy as a child? I can see him being very bossy.”
“God, yeah. He always has been. But more so after we lost our oldest brother in the accident. And after our father passed a few years ago, Rafe became nearly insufferable with it. But he means well.” She smiles at me. “He would do anything for the people he cares about. Anything.”
My throat feels dry, and I take a long sip of my drink. “The accident,” I ask. “He’s only mentioned it once.”
“He doesn’t like to talk about it.” Nora’s eyes are so open, I can see the sadness in them. “None of us do. I’ve thought about it, sometimes. That we should talk about it more. For Etienne’s sake.”
“I’m sorry you lost him.”
She puts a hand on my shoulder. “And I’m sorry you lost your parents. No one should have to go through any of it.”
I have the oddest impulse to hug her. I don’t know if she’d like that so soon into our friendship, and my hand tightens around my glass to tamp down the impulse.
Amber returns. “Wehaveto check out the lower deck. Come.”
“I’ll be there in a second,” I say.
“We’ll wait.”
“No, no, I’m going to grab some air. I’ll come down in a minute.”
Nora and Amber look at me for another few seconds, and I make a shooing motion and smile brightly. They head off.
I watch the poker game for a few minutes. Rafe’s total focus, even from here, feels like a terrifying thing. He and James sit silent and still, side by side. So unlike Alex’s sprawl in his chair.
I slip out of a side door onto the deck and find the spiral staircase that leads to the small top deck. It’s nearly empty, with only a few people chatting up here.
The wind is cool against my feverish skin, and around me, Monte Carlo glitters. It’s built upward along the tall hills, and we’re at the very bottom of the basin. It’s beautiful.
I feel a million miles away from everything I’ve ever known.
I take a deep breath and smile out at the dark night. I’m blissfully high on experience and novelty and friendship. On the feeling of Rafe’s brief, possessive kiss.
“I’ve never seen anyone smile to themselves before,” a voice says.
I turn to find a man leaning against the railing beside me. His hands are in the pockets of his all-black suit, and on his head is a black cap. I can barely make out his face.
“It’s a beautiful night,” I say. “What’s not to smile for?”
“You must drive Raphaël mad,” he says with a dark chuckle.
I face him fully. “You know Rafe?”
“I do,” he says. It’s not the first time someone’s been curious about our marriage tonight. I can make out a dark beard and two eyes locked on me. He might be my age, I think, or a few years older.
There’s something unnaturally still about him. “Don’t tell him, but I think he likes being kept on his toes,” I say.
People usually respond well to humor.
But the man just runs a hand over his jaw. “Does he? That would surprise me.”
I look past him. There’s a skylight here, open to the party below. I can see the edge of the poker table and milling guests. “You’re not playing poker tonight?”
“I am,” he says. “I’m just not sitting at the table.”
“How does that work?”
He smiles then, a flash of teeth in his dark beard. “I’m sponsoring one of the players. Alvaro can’t say no to a game if the buy-in is covered for him.”
