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All three glanced up when I entered the room.
I offered them a little grin. “Where are we going?”
“Well,” Lavena bounded to her feet, blonde curls bouncing on her shoulders, “the vote is Thai or Greek with me and Kas voting Thai. You’re the tie breaker.”
“Technically,” Kas began, “if Kami picks Greeks, she wouldn’t be breaking the tie but creating it.”
Lavena groaned. “We need a spare friend, someone to break ties.”
“I’m not making another friend. You guys are already a lot of work,” Sasha teased.
“Thai is fine.” I laughed. “But Greek—”
I was pelted with pillows as loud groans and boos filled the room.
“Let’s just walk until we come across the first eatable place,” Sasha suggested, pushing up with a little bounce on the balls of her feet.
“Unless it’s a coffee shop or bakery,” Kas stipulated. “I hate coffee shop sandwiches and soups. They’re all the same.”
“Fine, we’ll stop at the first legitimate restaurant we come across,” Sasha corrected.
It turned out we lived surrounded by a million coffee shops. We didn’t hit a single actual restaurant for almost five blocks. There seemed to be some debate about how none of us ever noticed, but we all agreed it was probably because we normally drove to a specific location and never had an actual reason to go out hunting. In the end, we found a steakhouse and piled through the glass doors. The assault of frying meat and spices stirred in my empty belly, creating an echo chamber of hunger that could probably be heard from space. The aggressive rumble had my friends glancing back at me, eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Don’t look at me,” I muttered, biting back my grin.
“Now that we are all present and seated, I think we have a very important topic up for decision,” Lavena declared once our hostess had ushered us to a window seat and left us to browse the leather-bound menu. “As you all know, Mother has been on a warpath, and I have been enlisted as support. As my nearest and dearest, you are — by extension — also enlisted to support.”
“Is this about the party?” Kas waved a gold-plated fork in Lavena’s direction. “Because I have planned parties with you and your mother before and I swore to myself that I would voluntarily lobotomize myself with a rusty ice pick before ever subjecting myself to such torture again.”
“Yeah, I would love to, but I already have very detailed plans to be violently sick on those days,” Sasha apologized.
Lavena scoffed. “Nice try, besides, I have already talked her into hiring people to do all the hard work so all we have to do is make sure Mom stays away from them so they can do their job. We’ll work in shifts. While two of us handle the details, one of us keeps Mom busy somewhere else.”
Sasha and Kas exchanged glances, silently weighing the pros and cons of agreeing to this parlous mission.
“You deal with your mother, and we will take care of the rest,” Kas negotiated.
Lavena considered the offer. “Fine.”
“What about me?” I piped in. “I want to help.”
I was a huge fan of parties. Not the high school ones full of awkward teenagers getting drunk and making messes. I loved adult parties with beautiful dresses and glittering jewelry, and tiny finger foods. I enjoyed seeing people in stunning outfits under soft lights dancing to a live band. There was never a downside to a party, in my opinion. Yes, they were exhausting, and they were so much work, but for those few hours, I loved them. I even liked helping set them up just to see everyone enjoying it.
Lavena beamed. “I was hoping you would say that. I have just the job for you.”
There was very little that couldn’t be accomplished when money wasn’t an issue, especially when Lavena and Marcella were involved. A welcome home party for the heir of the Medlock fortune was going to have all the bells and whistles. No stone would be left unturned, no streamer that wasn’t precise. It would be the talk of the century if the two had anything to say about it.
But I had my concerns.
A massive party was just the sort of opening Volkov would need to try something, wasn’t it? Something like this wasn’t my area of expertise, but it couldn’t be safe. I kept telling myself that it wasn’t my place to worry, especially if Alexander or Darius hadn’t said anything. Maybe they had a plan.
Nevertheless, I worried.
I winced every time the guest list expanded to add a few more people. At one point, even Lavena lost count of the caters and had to phone Marcella.
I wanted to find Darius.
I wanted to hear him reassure me that it was all handled, that they had everything under control and a whole army of black op soldiers. But I didn’t. I held my tongue and worked on my given task. I kept a smile and acted excited every time talk of the party came up because of course I was excited; Darius was home. It was the best reason to throw the biggest, brightest party, but I was a wreck. I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a horrible idea.
