“This again.” Nora huffs a laugh. “You’re relentless.”
“I’m strategic.”
“Marcus and I…” She glances toward the kitchen door. “He deserves someone who can give him everything.”
“And?”
“And I’m a widow.” She sighs. “It’s very unsexy.”
Marcus emerges from the kitchen to run a few plates to a table, and I wave for him to come over.
But before he does, I whisper to Nora, “I don’t think Marcus would agree.” I shake my head. “And I refuse to believe widowhood makes you unworthy of love. Love doesn’t give a shit about timing, or circumstance, or who you were before. It just shows up. That’s how it was for Beau and me.”
“Yes, you married your soul mate and have a very, very perfect life. So I understand exactly why you would think that.”
“I mean.” I tilt my head to one side. “Notsoperfect. We are living through another murder investigation.”
And I’m worried Beau knows something about Gemma’s death that he’s not telling me.
Nora takes a scoop of hummus. “And yet you’re still matchmaking.”
“I’m an optimist.” And when Marcus approaches, I add, “Nora and I are having a dinner party at my house. And we need you to cook.”
His brows lift, but only for a second. “Of course.” His eyes flick toward Nora before he can stop himself. “I’ve gotta go accept a delivery, but text me the details.”
“See?” I murmur to Nora as he turns back toward the kitchen, disappearing through the swinging door. “He’s literally obsessed with you.”
Before Nora can object, I hear Kristy Clark’s voice on the news. Nora and I both turn toward the TV behind the bar to see that Kristy’s reporting from in front of the police station, where she’s been broadcasting updates on the case all week. But unlike the media circus that followed Will’s disappearance and death last year, Gemma’s case is already starting to fall by the wayside. I’m offended on Gemma’s behalf that the suspicious death of a young server yields far less coverage than that of a prominent attorney.
I lean forward to listen, but the TV channel changes—suddenly tuning in to some midmorning game show.
“Sorry,” Tori says. “Marcus has us under pretty strict orders. We’re not to let any of the coverage of what happened air on the TVs in front of guests. Says it ruins the atmosphere.”
Marcus doesn’t want news of Gemma’s murder being broadcast? It’s not like him to be so strict.
I search Tori’s face, thinking about the bets that go on in the kitchen.
What if there was some kind of disagreement over money?
“No problem.” I force a smile. “We should get going anyway. We have a party to plan.”
Nora slides off her stool, following my lead, and when we bump into Autumn on our way out of the restaurant, I decide there’s strength in numbers.
I barrel toward her, wearing a smile I can only hope doesn’t look deranged. “You’re coming to my house for dinner tonight,” I announce, leaving no room for her to decline.
“Me?” Autumn freezes. “I’m confused.”
“It will be fun,” I add. “Nora’s coming. And Tippy’s bringing wine. Marcus is cooking. You’re coming.”
“Uh. Okay.” She blinks like she blacked out for a second or two. “Thank you?”
She thinks I’m crazy, and at this moment, I don’t disagree with her. But I need more information. I want to take Beau’s pocket square to the police.
But I can’t do that before I find out why it has blood on it. I can’t risk him or me falling into their pool of suspects.
Maybe after this dinner party, I’ll be able to get my life back.
“We’ll see you at seven.” I nod with finality.
