Boring.
Even the crowds thought so.They’d left the park below and were making their way east for the parade set to start in an hour.
Ringo must be around here somewhere.I searched for him in the cluster by “Edward.”For a man with one name, everyone wanted a piece of him.Maybe that was a thing.Drop your last name and refer to yourself in third person and suddenly you’re famous.
It was probably the other way around.Like some big cosmic in-joke.If you didn’t know them well enough to call them by their first name only, then you weren’t worthy.
Ringo wasn’t in any of the conference rooms, or by the food, or even in the lobby where I could monitor the exit to the men’s room discreetly without looking like a perv.
The bartender exited, and I took the moment to ask him if he’d seen my boyfriend in there.
“Nope, it’s empty.”
Huh.
People really shouldn’t leave me unsupervised.That never ended well.I was bound to blurt out something and ruin Kat’s chances forever.
An hour passed as I sat on the western-facing sofa watching the reflections in the windows of the hotel across the street.Ringo was still a no-show.
Kat plopped down next to me.“Hey, having fun?”
“No.”
That got her attention, because she knew that tone meant one of two things.Someone was going to get socked in the eye, or something was going to be set on fire.“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t find Ringo.”
She shot me a side-eye.“For real.”
I nodded.If I crossed my arms and legs any tighter they’d be permanently attached to the wrong sides.“I think he left.”
One nervous glance toward the crowd by Edward later, she asked, “Should I askhim?”
My groan was closer to a growl.
“I’ll ask.”
“Don’t get yourself in trouble for me.”
She shrugged.“What are besties for?”
“Be discreet.It’s not a big deal.”The lie sat crooked in my throat.
Jinxed.Just by mentioning my luck, she’d undone the juju.That’s how it worked.You couldn’t have nice things once you realized you shouldn’t.
Instead of imagining him cheating on me, I imagined much worse scenarios.He’d gotten a call.Don Manca wanted him to chase down someone and drown him in the green river.He’d do it, too.
That made me second-guess my Irish plans.
Could I be the woman who waited at home for him to waltz in hours…days…maybe even weeks later?Could I handle this life?I wasn’t afraid of the Edwards, or the glitz, or the caviar.I was afraid of losing Ringo’s smile.What if each contract made him lose pieces of his soul?
I shook my head to clear out the foolishness.He probably…
Fuck.There was no probably about it.He would have waited to tell me if it was something innocent.The business deal was done.The new owners of Conti, Inc., were all here.The old owners were mostly here, enjoying one last hurrah with their staff.Even some of the more dubious types had shown their faces.
One in particular reminded me of the late patriarch.I’d had the misfortune to meet Don Conti one horrible morning that ended in a bloodbath.Of course, I passed out for that part.But I’d seen his daughter shoot him.Both had that hooked nose.Both of them stood with an arrogant chin wedged outward as if daring a fist to punch it.
I stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of my green dress pants and approached.
