Page 53 of The Last Days of Lilah Goodluck

“Yes,” says Alistair. “I can see her laughing at you. That makes sense.”

Shane smiles. “He messed up and I got a chance with the woman of my dreams. But Nari and I aren’t the only ones he’s brought together under the banner of true love.”

“Lilah already knows about the matchmaker bullshit,” says Alistair. He cracks his neck and scowls his heart out. Never has a man been treated so badly. Not even Sisyphus with his boulder had to tolerate this shit.

“Yeah, but just out of interest. How many weddings have you been to where you not only dated the bride but were directly responsible for introducing the couple?” asks Gael. “I know you have at least two or three godchildren because of just this sort of situation.”

“I have nothing further to add to the topic.” At which point Alistair rises and makes for the nearest exit.

Gael grins in victory.

As nice as it is seeing Alistair with his friends, there’s something on my mind. “What did he, um, tell you about me? Just out of curiosity.”

“That you almost hit his Aston Martin,” says Gael, filling a plate with food.

Shane nods in agreement. “We heard a lot about that.”

“And also about the witch, the predictions, and everything else. We might have been a little worried you were messing with him,” says Gael. “You can see how we would think that, right?”

I wince. “Yeah.”

“But you didn’t sell him out.” Shane shrugs. “You had the opportunity, and you didn’t take it.”

I have the distinct feeling they’ve discussed all of this in depth. Of course, I’m glad they care about their friend. But it can be awkward when you know you’ve been the topic of debate. Or maybe that’s just me and my delicate feelings.

“You forgot your drink.” Alistair returns with my glass of champagne.

I smile. “Thank you.”

“Here you go, Lilah,” says Gael, handing me a plate heaped high with food. Tamales, rice, guacamole, corn, and salsa too.

“Whoa.” My mouth is watering. “It smells amazing.”

Alistair’s brows draw together. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm?” asks Gael.

“You know what I mean.”

“What are you talking about?” Gael is the picture of innocence. “I’m just trying to make our guest feel welcome.”

“My guest.”

“Right. Your guest. That’s what I said.”

If Alistair had death rays for eyes, Gael would most definitely be singed. Which would be a pity. He’s both a handsome and charming man who knows how to put a plate of food together. Three things I appreciate.

“You’re sort of intense about this one, aren’t you?” asks Gael. “This friend, I mean.”

Nothing from Alistair.

“These assholes are always competing. Just ignore them like I do.” Shane takes the game control to free up my hands for food. He sinks back against the couch with an easygoing smile. “What do you think of the place, Lilah?”

“The house?” I ask. “I think it’s great.”

“Sure,” says Gael. “If you enjoy a sterile gray stone environment more suited to being a supervillain’s secret hideout than a home.”

I manage not to laugh. But only just.

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