Page 6 of The Killer Card

Elias is annoyingly proud of his son. He never misses the chance to brag, even when it’s just our little group he’s bragging to.

“Still sweet of you to remember.” He settles back and I roll my eyes. “It’s quite literally like living a dream,” he grins, even though it’s just me and I certainly don’t want his smiles. “Graham still thinks I’m the goalie and he’s been to nearly all my games since I was eight years old.”

At the mention of his name my fingers can’t help but tense around the plastic cup. My pulse rockets several irritating beats too many. I’ve been actively avoiding thinking of him and the fact that we’re about to be stuck at the same event for the next week. I told myself that I wouldn’t imagine the crack in his voice the last time I saw him, or the hollow look in his forest green eyes. But now here I am, thinking. Imagining.

All it took was his fucking name.

“Hey.”

I swallow, hard, looking over at Cristian who’s brows have pinched in something similar to concern. But since it’s directed toward me that can’t possibly be correct.

His tone, however, is gentle when he says, “He doesn’t get in until early tomorrow. You won’t have to face him tonight.”

I’d prefer not to face him ever.

The flight attendant comes by again and I stop her. “My friend here,” I almost gag on the word, and Cristian audibly sucks at his teeth. “Will have another screwdriver and we’ll both have a breakfast sandwich, and a salad. I’ll also take another tonic and two waters.”

Cristian leans forward. “My tab,” he insists, then smirks at me. “It’s Dad’s card on file.”

I turn to the attendant and smile beatifically. “We’d also like to buy headphones for everyone on board.”

Cristian grins mischievously, a look I’ve never actually seen on his prim features. “And we’ll pay for their Wi-Fi.”

“And neck pillows,” I add. “And there’s a little boy in the back wearing this man’s jersey. Send him up for an autograph and let him order whatever he wants. His mom too.”

When she leaves, I raise my cup to my partner in crime for this particular flight only. “I think I like the version of you that isn’t attached to your mother’s tits, Santos.”

He grimaces but taps my cup. “What a disgusting image you paint.”

“I live to please.” I beam and finish off the third tonic and lime in one gulp as his cute little fan appears at my elbow, smiling like my seat mate is God’s gift to mankind.

Just this once I won’t correct him. I stand to allow the boy to take my seat while we continue to wait for the seatbelt lights to come up. Cristian pulls a thick marker out of his backpack, signing the jersey below his printed name with an abdominal drawing of a shark next to it. He lets the boys’ mom take a picture of them together, asking for her email in Spanish. I think he says something about tickets. The exchange ends with him giving the kid another hug and telling him to do good in school, no doubt a rehearsed spiel for his younger fans. The boy leaves, smiling like he just met fucking Santa Clause.

“What?” Cristian frowns when he catches my look.

“Nothing, Santos.” I just shake my head and as the seatbelt light blinks awake, I restart chapter four and allow myself to fantasize about men who aren’t either related to or friends with Elias Santos.

5 Days Before the Wedding

Chapter Three

Naomi

Cabin life might be the most peaceful version I have yet to experience. Even with Nelly and Cristian’s bickering floating from the open windows.

After finally landing in Montreal, I collected the premium car from the rental lot and put Cristian behind the wheel which he gladly accepted. He owed me for existing after all, and I didn’t feel like fishing my glasses out of my purse or navigating the winding mountain roads.

Despite the growing dark, the drive had been nothing short of picturesque. I’ve lived in Cambridge for the last four years, but I’ve never really found the time to explore New England in this way. Law school kept me insanely busy. Not to mention my running internship in D.C. and flying home for holidays with my dad and brother. Then there was keeping up some semblance of a social life with the few friends I’ve managed to make. They’re… Okay.

All this to say, this is really my first foray into the hills and valleys of New England, and I am not unimpressed. I can only imagine how it must look when the seasons begin to change, and the leaves turn a thousand brilliant shades of orange and red.

The towns we drove through were straight out of Gilmore Girls, with general stores, mechanics, and cafes all next to each other in sporadic, neat rows. There isn’t one concrete block house in sight, every family home beautifully designed works of stone and brick and wood. Every view was back dropped by rolling hills and trees that have been alive longer than the country has existed. I have never seen so many barns and by the third deer crossing sign I was gripping the oh shit bar with white knuckles, my eyes scanning the surrounding trees.

Luckily, despite the late hour, we managed to pull up to the cabin just as the sun was setting. It was close to nine by then, but Elias and Rowan had held off on cooking, so everything came off the grill right as we arrived.

The five of us caught up over chicken skewers, rice, and zucchini salad- Nelly’s contribution- but most of the conversation was between Elias and his son. Apparently, his flight with me had not been Cristian’s first this week. It wasn’t even forty-eight hours earlier that he’d flown home following a World Cup qualifier. He’d had just enough time to visit his sister and pack for the wedding before he had to rush back to the airport.

Nelly had offered for Lexi to come- they would have paid for her ticket and everything- but Max had a big case at the moment, and Cristian hadn’t wanted whatever fight letting her come would have started with his mom. Vivian, of course, was banned from coming within six feet of Nelly or Elias lest she feel the sting of my palm on her botoxed cheek. And get served a hefty fine from Eli’s lawyer.