Page 110 of Where There's Smoke

“Thankfully, it is. I’m just having dinner tonight with Anthony, Ranya, and hopefully Chris.”

“No Julie?”

“Fuck, I hope not, but I’m not holding my breath.”

She laughed. “Well, good luck. Tell Chris I said hello.”

“Will do.” I paused. “Take it easy tonight, all right?”

“I’ll do the best I can,” she said softly.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

We hung up, and I stared at the phone again. Then, sighing, I got up and headed back into the house.

Simone was a strong woman, I reminded myself. She could handle this. She’d be all right.

I hoped.

Anthony, Ranya, and I grabbed a corner booth at the mostly empty restaurant. Not fifteen minutes later, Chris joined us, and to my surprise, his lovely wife was nowhere in sight. I thought she might catch up with him—maybe she was outside on her phone or bitching at a valet—but Chris seemed simultaneously nervous and relaxed. Like a kid sneaking out of his parents’ house, both excited by the thrill of breaking the rules and scared to death of getting caught. That, and I didn’t catch the acrid stench of fire and brimstone in the air, so she couldn’t have been too close by.

“No wife tonight?” I tried not to sound too hopeful that my darling sister-in-law might not be gracing us with her company.

“She’s out with her sisters.” Chris laughed nervously. “I suppose I should have put in a formal request. I’ll probably hear about this later.”

I laughed, but something tightened in my chest. Maybe the comparison to a kid sneaking out was closer to the truth than I thought. After all, this was unusually rebellious for him. Dangerously so, if I knew Julie.

So it came as no surprise when, halfway through dinner, Chris’s cell phone rang. The shrill intrusion brought a string of profanity to my brother’s lips, and his shoulders tensed as he pulled the phone out of his pocket.

“Sorry,” he muttered to us. “Warden’s calling.” Then he put the phone to his ear. “Hey, Ju—”

Jesus Christ, I could hear the screaming from here. Anthony, Ranya, and I exchanged wide-eyed glances. None of us spoke, and every move we made—lifting a drink, setting down a fork—we did so with exaggerated stealth, likethe slightest incriminating clatter of cutlery would get Chris into even deeper shit.

My brother rested his elbow on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I thought you were out for the evening.”Oh God, tell me that isn’t fear in his voice.“Well, I know, but you—” He swallowed. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Honey, I’ll make sure it’s taken care—I know, I know.” He put up a hand as if the gesture could placate her even though she couldn’t see it. “Honey, I’m just having a couple of beers with Jesse, I’ll—” He exhaled sharply. “I’ll be home by then, I promise.”

I swore he sounded like a kid begging for mercy from a parent. A little bit defensive, a lot nervous, and not the way any man should be when talking to his wife.

A moment later, he set his phone next to his empty glass. “Fuck.”

“Everything all right?” I asked.

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved a hand. “Everything’s fine.”

“You sure?”

In a heartbeat, exasperation turned to fury, and he slammed his hand down beside the phone and the glass. “Jesse, back. The fuck. Off. Everything isfine.”

With that, he snatched up his drink and cell, and then stormed across the restaurant to the bar on the opposite end.

I looked at Ranya and Anthony. “I…um… Do you guys mind if I go talk to him?”

“Go, go.” Ranya gestured toward the bar, her bracelets jingling sharply. “And if I’m not here when you come back, I went to kick his wife’s butt.”

“Be my guest,” I muttered. Anthony and I exchanged a glance, and he gave me a slight nod.

I got up and followed my brother. He was seated at the bar, hunched over his empty glass, and glanced over his shoulder. When he saw me, his expression hardened. He turned away from me, but the mirror over the bar revealed the deep furrow of his brow and the way he’d set his jaw. I took a seat beside him and tried not to take his stiffening posture personally.

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