Then Amara glances over. Her smile sours into a glare again.
“Jesus,” Maverick says as she makes her way back over.
“Yikes,” Baron adds. “I don’t know what you did, boss. But the Missus is looking a little unhappy.”
But I’m not afraid of whatever mood swing this is. If anything, her hissy fits have never not been a turn-on. “Trouble in prenatal paradise?” I ask.
“Hand it over,” she snaps, and we all look at her.
“Wait,” Maverick asks. “Is she talking about our beer? Because I’m not about to be told?—”
“I said no booze at the shower,” she snaps. “If I can’t drink, neither can anyone else.”
The guys look at me and I shrug. “You heard her.”
Before they can protest, Amara swipes the beer bottles from their hands. It pisses them off and earns a grin from me.
Until rears up at me as well.
“What?” I ask.
Her eyes dart from mine to the glass in my hand.
“You have to be fucking kidding,” I tell her.
“If that’s her kidding, boss, I’d hate to see her mad…” Maverick mumbles.
“Whose house is this?” I ask.
“Whose party is this?” she asks. “Because if you ruin it, I’m going to want a redo.”
I narrow my eyes at her. She does the same. Then, with our glares locked, I down the rest of my whisky and hand her the empty glass.
Amara is less than amused as she stomps off. Meanwhile, Maverick and Baron are choking back laughs.
“Who are all these people anyways?” Baron asks.
“The brunette who stays within two feet of her at all times is Electra.”
“The one in the turtleneck?” Mav asks. “I thought she was the town bicycle.”
“Yeah, well, whoever she’s dating doesn’t like to share. From the sounds of it, he’s got her padlocked to a pole.”
Amara has expressed more concern about this Sean guy Electra has been seeing, asking me to look into it. If I wasn’t trying to smoke out Tristan’s jailbreak army, I’d get right on that.
“The other two girls are from her yoga class,” I say. Other than that, it’s a few people from the office, my mother, and Jenica.
Yes. Jenica.
She wasn’t too excited about it at first, but we agreed that public appearances are important for a little while longer, just so things don’t all blow up at once. Now, as all the girls play some dumb game with safety pins and cotton balls, she actually seems to be having fun.
“Any word on Tristan recently?” I ask.
“Nope,” Maverick says, and my jaw clenches.
“As in, he hasn’t been causing any problems or?—”
“As in, nobody knows where the fuck he is.”
