I should have felt a little guilty that my jealousy prompted Ali to distance himself from his old friends. Instead, I was thrilled. And turned on.
“I do think you deserve a nice reward for your loyalty and consideration,” I said very suggestively.
He looked surprised. And interested. “What do you have in mind?”
I licked my lips and shot him a meaningful look.
He understood instantly. “Are you being serious right now?”
I leaned forward, putting my lips near his ear, and whispered something about letting him do a certain something during sex that I’d never been up for previously.
I felt the energy shoot through his body. “That’s so effing hot.” Ali never uttered bad words in front of me, although I knew he cussed around other people.
“And there are no kids at home,” I reminded him. “Consider the possibilities.”
“That’s it.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me off the barstool. “Yalla, let’s go. We’re leaving now.”
Laughing, I protested, half stumbling off the stool. “But we haven’t been here that long.”
He made sure I was steady on my feet before practically dragging me toward the door. “Who cares?”
Certainly not me.
“Hey, Abadi,” Rodriguez called out. “Where’re you going?”
Ali didn’t bother to turn around. “Home.”
Several friends groaned. Another said, “We finally get you to come out and you’re already leaving?”
“Yeah.” Ali wasted no time pushing the door open. He motioned for me to go through, ladies first. “We’ve got better things to do tonight.”
“You guys are goals,” someone called after us. “Still hot for each other after all these years!”
Hooting and hollering followed as we spilled onto the busy city sidewalk. Just before the door closed behind us, I caught a fleeting glimpse of Nasser’s pensive face, a moment before he smiled and raised his beer.
Once outside, Ali and I huddled together against the cold, laughing and rubbing up against each other as we went to find our car. Later, at home, I very enthusiastically delivered on my promise.
And I’m pretty sure that Lizzie Martins was the very last thing on his mind.
Chapter Twenty-One
Now
“Lawrence Martins died in a home accident,” Nasser said over the phone.
I was at my computer writing an exhibit for the museum in Indiana when he called back a few hours later. Even though I was already way behind on the project, I welcomed the distraction. I couldn’t concentrate. I wasn’t sleeping well, and when I did manage to doze off, my jagged dreams kept the few hours I did get from feeling restful.
But Nasser’s news injected new energy into my veins. “There is a police record? And you got your hands on it?”
“Yes, a report was filed but I haven’t seen it. A law enforcement friend told me what’s in it. It says Martins died at home after falling and hitting his head on the fireplace hearth. His death was ruled accidental.”
“Remind me what part of the fireplace the hearth is,” I said. “Is it the brick surrounding the firebox?”
“Sort of. It includes the raised part that surrounds the actual firebox. In this case, it was a raised stone hearth. The kind that’s around the height of a low stool. You mostly see it in older houses.”
“Hmm. I can see how that might mess Lizzie up if she witnessed his fall.”
My home office desk was up against a window facing the road.Bintiwas upstairs sleeping in the warmth of the sun that poured in through my bedroom window in the late morning.
