Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“Edges is a nice word for flaws.”
She rolls her eyes. “Look, you can insult me all you want, but Bottle of Smoke is my entire life, okay? You leave that place out of this.”
I lean back, holding up my hands. “I’d never. I’m only saying, Smoke has a certain kind of charm to it, and part of that charm comes from the flaws.”
“Please, you’ve never actually eaten there.”
“Actually, I have.”
Her eyebrows raise. “I don’t think so. I would’ve noticed you.”
“I ate there four years ago on a night you weren’t around. The food was good. The music was too loud, and the waitress working at the time had an attitude, but it was nice.”
She laughs once. “You must’ve gotten Janice. God, she really was snotty. I’m glad she’s gone.” She shakes her head. “It’s hard to believe you actually ate at Smoke once, even years ago, and now here we are.”
“Is it really so strange? My second-in-command’s sister owns and operates a bar. I was in the neighborhood and I decided to give it a try.”
She leans forward on her elbows. “Do you think you would’ve talked to me? If I was there that night?”
I stare at her, trying not to lose control. “Yes,” I say, voice huskier than I expected.
Which is why I chose that night to begin with.
Because I couldn’t let myself get too close to her. Going to Smoke at all was an enormous risk.
But going on a night when she’d physically be there? That would’ve been akin to suicide.
She blinks slowly, head tilted to the side, mouth hanging open. Then she clears her throat. “I bet you would’ve said something rude. That’s sort of your thing, isn’t it?”
“To everyone else but you.”
“What a charmer.”
Food begins to arrive. Small plates at first: mussels, stuffed mushrooms, tiny pot pies, bacon-wrapped asparagus. Simple but delicious, and it keeps coming. We talk about inconsequential things. The house, my job, some of my properties. I explain what I do for a living, which is basically manage a small business of criminals.
Toward the end of the meal, she asks me about Iain. “Tell me about my brother. I feel like I barely know him now.”
“He’s been a loyal lieutenant,” I say, sipping a glass of brandy, watching her across the cleared table. “Good at certain aspects of his job. Over his head with others.”
Her cheeks are flushed red from drinking too much. It’s adorable and only makes me want her more. “If he’s so loyal, how come he slept with that girl and got himself shot?”
I nod in acknowledgment. “Iain is loyal, but he’s also emotional and impulsive.”
“He fell in love. That’s not the same thing.”
“That’s right, your brother fell in love, but he fell in love with the one girl he knew he could never have. The one girl he knew would ruin everything. Jan Minda couldn’t accept that his precious little baby girl slept with a dirty Irishman, much less got pregnant by him.”
She sits back, jaw working. “You don’t think falling in love is a better reason than most?”
“I think love needs to be controlled.”
“Iain was always such a romantic, but what you’re saying—”
“Your brother was stupid,” I say, voice hard. “He knew what it meant to get involved with Minda’s daughter. He should’ve at least worn a fucking condom.”
“Like you wore one with me?”
“You’re my wife. I’m not trying to be safe with you.”
“That’s—” She looks annoyed. “You know, I’m happy it’s love and not something else.”
“Why?”
“All my life, I looked up to Iain.” She stares down at the tablecloth. “He was my big brother. Strong, fast, smart. Charming. I felt safe with him, you know? And he protected me from the bullies in the neighborhood as best he could. Iain was a good brother, and it broke my heart when he decided to follow my father’s path in life even though I begged him not to. I kept having these awful dreams where my brother would sell drugs and murder people, and it killed me, how the boy that used to keep me safe from bullies became the bully himself.”
I don’t have the heart to tell her that’s exactly what he did.
“So you think that falling in love is a good reason to get people killed?” I ask her, wondering if she understands what she’s saying to me. If she realizes she’s giving me an excuse.
To take her, to have her, against my better judgement.
“Better than something worse. Like, drugs or revenge.”
I shake my head. “I think love is selfish. It’s the most selfish thing we can do.”
She crosses her arms, glaring at me now. “Says the man that claims to be obsessed with me.”
“Obsessed, not in love, those are different things.”
Her jaw works. “How?”
“Love doesn’t last.” She wants to protest, but I keep going. “Love is heat and flame and sizzle. Love feels good for a short time, but love grows cold and stale after a while. Obsession is something more. It’s solid, it’s steel. Love is flame, but flames always burn themselves out. Metal can last forever.”