Page 9 of Dark Verse

“Thank you, Lou.”

Peeking out of the alcove to make sure Eve and Jeremy are not there, I step out. I find my parents on one of the little love seats several dozen feet back from the main dance floor. They’re easy to spot: Mom in a fitted floor-length gown that shimmers in the deepest plum and Dad complementing her in one of the most dapper three-piece suits I’ve ever seen him wear, two tones lighter than her dress. I’ve hardly had a chance to really talk to them today. I’ve been up and moving so much, so I join them.

“Raven, you really did a magnificent job here. This is truly something special.”

I turn to meet my mother’s eyes.

“Really?” I ask, surprised.

Mom has spent her entire professional career attending meticulously planned events with plate prices high enough to make the average person blush. She’s been invited to weddings by current and former clients across the world. She knows a well-coordinated event when she sees one.

She leans into me and lowers her voice. “Between you and me, I was a little disappointed when they decided to elope, and I know Betty was too. But this,” she gestures to the space, “This is more than a consolation prize you’ve put together. This event is a true gift you’ve given your sister. And to think you planned this all in just a few weeks.”

“Thanks, Mom.” I smile, feeling buzzed in a good way.

“I, for one, was not disappointed,” Dad interjects. “A year of wedding planning and endless stresses when all the real fun happens at the reception? Plus,” he turns to Mom, “now your mother won’t be able to complain about Dovey living with RJ outside of wedlock.”

My maternal grandmother, Nan, can be a little old-fashioned in some of her ideas. But I also can’t blame her for thinking Dove should be cautious.

When Dove first introduced me to RJ during Christmas over three years ago, it was an instant dislike. I hated the fact that he hurt her, even if she wouldn’t give me all the details of what happened between them. But she gave me enough for me to know it was toxic and dangerous. What she described reminded me too much of my own past relationships. One bad boyfriend after another failed relationship, after another toxic situationship. Saying I’ve been luckless in love is an understatement, and truthfully, it’s made me more than a little weary.

But my baby sister is a lover inside and outside. She can’t help but fall fast and hard. And despite their issues in the beginning, in the years since, I see every second of every day how much RJ cares for Dove. His natural state is to be an asshole, but I see how soft and happy he is when she’s around. He would do anything for her. Well, almost anything. I’m not sure he’d kill anyone for her, but he’d definitely beat the crap out of them.

Who are you kidding? RJ is crazy. He’d absolutely kill someone for Dove.

But that honestly makes me like him more, not less.

“That is…true.” Mom concedes with a smile, leaning over to give Dad a kiss on his cheek.

I stretch my legs out a little, glad to be off my feet for a few minutes. I know I can’t rest for long though, even with Lou here. A venue this size, across three floors of activity, needs to be constantly monitored. I watch the nearby guests move with the music and each other. I catch glimpses of Dove and RJ dancing together through the bodies. RJ can really pull off a completely white suit, and Dovey looks ethereal in her cream-toned dress, the skirt flouncing around her with every turn and dip she makes.

Dad stands from his chair as one of his favorite songs plays and holds his hand out towards Mom.

“May I have this dance, my queen?”

“You may.”

They step out onto the floor, leaving me to watch everyone and take in the beautiful moment. My view is suddenly blocked by an enormous man. I look up at his face, recognizing him as one of RJ’s teammates. He’s about six feet tall, with short brown hair and a smile that could catch a pair of panties on fire.

“Hello,” he says in a dreamy tone.

“Hello,” I reply, leaning back to take him in.

“Would you like to dance?”

I actually would rather sit for a few more minutes, but I decide to take Lou’s advice and embrace the occasion. He’s fine as hell, and I’m feeling the music right now.

“Sure,” I say, taking his offered hand.

We only take a few steps towards the rest of the party, still mostly apart from them. His skin is this warm shade of ocher, his low fade looking neat and fresh. His left hand finds my waist. As we begin to move, his grip remains high enough on my back to stay on the right side of friendly.

“My name’s Amore.”

“Amore? Is that a last name?”

“Nope. Amore Lester.”

I shake my head, saying, “That is not your name, sir.”