“For the French government,” I say, keeping my face as stoic as a statue’s. “The acting? Pure cover. All those ‘tours’ in Europe? She was gathering intelligence on the high seas.”
“That explains the dress!” Annie snaps her fingers, her eyes bright. “She got into a duel with a rival agent on the way to the altar. A little wedding-day espionage.”
“Harold had to help her hide the evidence,” I add.
“Obviously.”
“They buried it in the backyard. Under the rose bushes.”
The girls are losing it, giggling so hard they’re clutching their pillowcases for stability. It’s a ridiculous, dark, wonderful little moment, and for the first time in a long time, the heavy weightin my chest—the one that’s been there since Rebecca left—feels a little lighter.
“And now,” Annie says, gesturing toward the skeletons, “they sit here every Halloween, guarding their secrets.”
“Waiting,” I add, my voice dropping an octave.
“For what?” Emma asks, breathless.
Annie and I lock eyes. She’s biting her lip, her eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that makes my pulse do a little jump.
“For someone to find the body,” we say in a perfect, creepy unison.
The girls shriek with delight and scramble up the steps. Annie stays at the bottom with me, her hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets. She’s still looking at me, her smile wide and unguarded. Her long lashes sweep down as she looks away suddenly, landing on her freckled cheeks. Her hair’s grown out in the last few weeks, past her shoulders now, dark brown and thick with a slight curl that catches the Halloween lights.
Her lips are this perfect shade of pink, like they’ve been bitten or like she’s just been kissed. It makes me wonder—makes me want to know—if they’d turn even pinker if I kissed them. I look away before she can catch me staring.
“Harold and Beatrice,” she says softly, shaking her head. “That got dark fast, Leo. You’re a bad influence.”
“You’re the one who turned the banker into a jewel thief. I just gave him a supportive wife.”
“A French spy wife. There’s a distinction.” She laughs and I have to find a very interesting crack in the sidewalk to study. This night is a landmine. My family is ready to plan the wedding, Emma is head-over-heels, and I’m standing here wanting to kiss my employee while my daughter is ten feet away asking for Fun-Size Twix.
“Your mom is glaring at you,” Annie murmurs, glancing over my shoulder.
I don’t even have to look. I can feel the heat of her gaze. “Yeah. She does that.”
“Should I be worried?” Annie asks, her tone playful but her eyes searching mine.
“Probably.”
“What did you do?”
“Exist,” I say, a wry smile finally breaking through. “Sorry if my family was a lot back there.” I watch Emma and Lauren admire a giant inflatable ghost that’s currently losing a battle with a leaf blower. “They have a tendency to…well, overwhelm is the polite word. ‘Steamroll’ is usually more accurate.”
Annie’s laugh is soft and warm in the small space between us. “Are you kidding? I really like them, Leo. They’re wonderful. Your mom keeps trying to feed me spanakopita she has hidden in her purse, and your dad told me I have a ‘solid Greek forehead.’ I’m charmed.”
“You haven’t known them long enough,” I mutter, though I’m fighting a smile. “Wait until they start asking for your tax returns and your blood type.”
She smirks, nudging my arm with her elbow. It’s a light touch, but through the sleeve of my jacket, it feels like a low-voltage shock. “No, really. They seem like good people. Good parents. You can tell they actually like each other.”
“They do,” I say, and I mean it. “They’re the best. A little insane, but the best.”
Annie’s expression shifts, a shadow flickering across her face so quickly I almost miss it. She keeps her eyes on the kids. “Not everyone is blessed with that, you know. Good parents. You shouldn’t take the madness for granted.”
There’s a shift in her voice I can’t quite parse, a sudden gravity that makes me want to reach out and—what? Comfort her? I’m not even sure. Before I can even open my mouth, thegirls come tearing back, their pillowcases bulging and dragging on the concrete with a heavythump-thump.
“Only a couple more houses,” I announce, checking my watch. “Then we’re heading back for the cake-cutting ceremony.”
“Is everyone coming over?” Emma asks, breathless, her cat ears sitting slightly askew on her head.
