“To us,” she said, her eyes watering as we each knocked one back.
She turned in her seat. “Congratulations,” she said wistfully to the newlyweds. “You two make a lovely couple.”
“Thank you!” the woman said, holding out her left hand to show off the small diamond perched on her finger. “We’re not married yet. Our appointment at the chapel isn’t until midnight.”
“How romantic! You’re eloping then?” My mother hid her wince behind a smile. “Isn’t that a little impulsive?”
The woman gazed lovingly at her partner. “We’ve actually been planning it for a while.”
He reached into his breast pocket and unfolded a certificate, showing it off to my mother. “We applied for the marriage license weeks ago.”
“Oh, well, I suppose that’s okay then,” she said. “Since you’ve probably already been to premarital counseling.”
The bride shook her head, confused.
“Mom,” I said in a low voice, “that’s really none of our busin—”
“You know,” my mother pressed, “when the priest asks why you want to marry one another and if you’ve had premarital relations. And of course, they always ask if you’ve ever lied or cheated.” The man cleared his throat as my mother sucked down her second shot. “You’ve probably already discussed the things that really irk you about each other, all those little pet peeves that get under your skin.”
The man signaled to the bartender, looking a bit ill as he asked for another drink, too.
“Mom—”
“Like maybe he insists on watching football for hours on end every Sunday. Or maybe he falls asleep in front of the TV every time you suggest watching a movie together, or he turns the thermostat down an extra two degrees to save money on the electric bill, even after you tell him you’re freezing—”
“And maybeweshould take our drinks someplace else. Excuse us,” I said to the bride and groom. I carried my second shot in one hand and took my mother’s elbow in the other, practically dragging her from her stool as she continued to lecture the poor couple on the importance of compromise and mutual respect. She scooped her fishbowl off the bar, cradling the massive drink in both hands as I nudged her toward an open table several feet away.
I peeked back at the couple as my mother and I took our seats. The bride had taken off her veil and they were arguing quietly. “Was that really necessary? Maybe you should spend less time worrying about everyone else’s relationships and spend more time trying to fix your own.”
“Is it so wrong that I want to make sure that nice, young couple is ready? You and Steven didn’t go to premarital counseling, and look what happened to you.”
“You know what, never mind,” I said, throwing back my second shot.
Sam appeared behind us and ogled our drink. “Looks like I got here just in time. Nice of you to join us,” she said, cocking a suspicious eyebrow at me as I sucked on a lime wedge.
I passed her the fishbowl, hoping she might not press me for information about my mysterious exit from the spa earlier.
“I’ll get us another,” my mother said, steadying herself as she slid off her stool.
Sam studied me as she sipped. “I suppose you’re not going to tell me where you and Vero disappeared to,” she said over the music. “And since I don’t want to be on the receiving end of Nick’s wrath if he were to find out I lost track of you today, I’m not going to say a word to him about it.”
“Say a word about what?” Vero asked as she and Javi appeared besideour table. Sam turned on her stool to greet them. Javi’s arm was draped over Vero’s shoulder. Sam’s eyebrow lifted as she sized up Javi.
“Javi, this is Detective Sam Becker,” Vero said, putting a delicate emphasis on Sam’s title. Javi stiffened. “Sam, this is Javi.” I was sure Vero had left his introduction intentionally short. The less Sam knew about Javi, the harder it would be for her or my sister to do a background check if either of them got curious about who Vero was spending her time with.
“I was just telling Finlay that Susan and I had a lovely time at the spa this afternoon. I can see now you had a very compelling reason to leave.” She gave Vero a sly wink as she extended a hand to Javi. “You must be Vero’s elusive friend we’ve been hearing so much about.”
Louis’s jacket was slung over Javi’s shoulder, the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up his forearms, revealing the dark canvas of tattoos underneath. His long hair fell rakishly over one eye as he reached to shake Sam’s hand, the pink and purple strobe lights masking the bruise on his cheek.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, quick to recover. “I’m going to the bar. Can I get anybody a drink?”
“I’ll go with you,” Vero said, leading the way.
“Javi’s an old friend of Vero’s,” I explained when the silence between Sam and me became awkward. “Vero wanted to spend as much time with him as she could while we were in town. She didn’t think Nick would let her go, given everything—”
“Say no more,” Sam said, mooching a sip of my drink. “Your secret is safe with me. That explains why Charlie was so vague about where you all had gone when I texted him this afternoon. It was sweet of him to cover for you. Where is he, by the way? I haven’t heard from him since.”
I shrugged. “I have no idea where he went. I’m sure he isn’t far.”
