Page 35 of King of Deception

“Thank you.” Her fingers touched the base of the water glass, lingering at the edges. “So, what about the stories that did end happily? Got any of those?”

“Actually, I do,” I confirmed. “My parents.”

Her eyes widened with excitement as she rubbed her palms together. “Do tell. I’m a sucker for those.”

“I mean, there was nothing special or anything—

“Are they still together?”

“Forty years.”

“That’s special. My parents got divorced the day I moved to college.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, no. Don’t be,” she waved it off. “They’re better off, believe me. Mom stayed in Washington, where she works. Dad remarried, and they moved to Hawaii, where they opened a massage parlor together.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah. I’m surprised they got married, to begin with—they’re worlds apart.”

“Opposites attract.”

“And sometimes, collide and explode,” she tittered. Sharply sighing, she picked up her glass of water and took a long sip. As she put it down, her eyes smiled before her lips did. “Tell me more about yours.”

“Well…” I tried to arrange my thoughts—and accordingly, my words—in a way that would make sense without mentioning the money. “My mom was on vacation with her family in Greece. My dad was visiting family who lived there, and… believe it or not, they met at the airport on the way back.”

“No way!” she giggled, and my heart danced.

I squeezed my eyelids shut, “Anticlimactic, I know.”

“Yeah, but it’s cute. Did they ever go back together?”

“They did.” I nodded. “Actually, my sister was born there.”

“Oh, I thought she was fictional.”

I got confused for a second before remembering that I had mentioned her the night we met. “Right,” I chuckled.

“Younger?”

“You guessed it,” I flattened my lips.

“You don’t wanna talk about her.”

“Busted?” I tittered, raising both hands. “Nah, it’s just that… I worry about her sometimes.”

“Isn’t that part of your job?”

“You think?”

“I wouldn’t know. I’m an only child.”

“They say you guys are spoiled rotten.”

“Not when we have to break up a fight that includes flying ceramic ashtrays and coffee mugs.”

“Are you serious?” I couldn’t hide my sympathy.

---