Page 12 of Love Him Like Water

And I couldn’t shake the feeling as I stood there spying on their gathering, that I wasn’t invited.

I slunk back into the room, my nerves now mixing with a sick, sour feeling of being excluded.

Tears threatened again, and I took myself into the bathroom to wipe away my eye makeup before I could smudge it with the silly, but seemingly uncontrollable emotion.

I was overwrought. Overtired.

I needed to get myself together.

Luckily for me, though, the party seemed to rage endlessly, no one seeming concerned with my absence, least of all my husband. So I had plenty of time to pull myself together.

I got into the bed.

Then out.

Paced the room.

Sat on the chair shoved in the corner, not knowing what to do with myself.

Until, finally, I plopped myself down on the edge of the bed.

And waited.

And waited.

I’d all but lost hope as the party noise continued to swell.

Until, suddenly, the door was opening.

And there he was.

CHAPTER FOUR

Renzo

Rico came back with the first round of food just a minute or two before everyone started to shuffle into the apartment, making a beeline for the bar, then the food. In that order.

Parties were a somewhat regular thing around here.

I liked keeping my crew close.

I wasn’t the kind of boss who enjoyed the power trip of calling formal meetings to discuss shit all the time.

I’d rather hear about it in a casual conversation over a couple of drinks, some pizza, and peppered between other stories.

The place had a pretty open-door policy after a certain time of night, and as soon as everyone got word that someone was at my apartment, they all flocked to it. For food, for drinks, for company, and a little bit for work.

It took no time at all for someone to head over to the stereo, putting on some music, and for the sound of pool balls cracking together to fill the air, mingling with the sounds of conversation and laughter.

Nothing like the stuffy-ass gathering at the church.

Everyone had shed their sour moods along with their formal clothes before they’d come through the door.

“Got you another,” Rico said, handing me a fresh glass of whiskey.

I was already feeling the several drinks I’d had before everyone had shown up. It was an ease in my shoulders and a quietness in my mind that I hadn’t felt in weeks. Months, even.

“No signs of the Costas out there?” I asked, nodding toward the front of the building.

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