Page 91 of Past Due

“Not long and not long,” he answered and picked up his glass. “Why?”

Zec clinked his glass against Besian’s, and they held eye contact as they sipped the strong brandy. Besian didn’t finish his, but Zec knocked the rest of his back. He hissed slowly and refilled his glass. “Just wondering when I have to start babysitting Luka again.”

Besian chuckled darkly and glanced at his nephew. He had taken a spot at the far end of the table and talked quietly with Dusan. “He seems subdued tonight.”

“Rina turned his whole world upside down the other morning. I think he’s having an existential crisis.”

“Maybe a little dread is exactly what he needs,” Besian remarked. “Thinking about his eventual death and whether he has any purpose in life can’t hurt.”

“We’ll see.” Zec tossed back his refilled glass of rakia.

Frowning, Besian moved the bottle out of his reach. “What’s up with you tonight? You never drink like this?”

“Maybe Luka isn’t the only one having an existential crisis,” Zec remarked with a faraway look in his eyes. “I find myself wondering what the hell I’m doing making all this money when I have nothing to do with it.”

Besian shifted in his chair so he could see his friend better. “You do something with it. Think of all the kids you’ve kept off the street, all the kids you’ve sent to university or trade school. That’s something.”

“I guess.” Zec scratched at his chin. “Maybe it’s not enough.”

Besian followed Zec’s gaze to where it lingered on Marley. Wondering if that’s what his friend was trying to get at, he said, “You could try dating instead of the arrangements you make for company.”

Zec grunted. “No.”

“How else will you find a partner?”

“I don’t want a partner.” Zec reached across Besian to grab the bottle of liquor and filled his glass. “If I take a wife, she’ll be content to look after our home and raise our children. She won’t ask questions about what I do. She won’t want to be involved in my work. She’ll be quiet, submissive, pliant.”

“Uh-huh,” Besian commented dryly. “Well, unless you have a time machine that can take you back to the 17th century, I don’t know where you’re going to find a woman like that.”

“And that’s why I drink,” Zec replied before tipping back his glass.

Besian cast a sad glance at his friend. The horrible experiences of Zec’s childhood had shaped him into the cold, detached man he was today. Being born in prison to a mother who had been raped by a guard. Being raised in that prison until he was taken away from his mother and repatriated to Albania. Being passed around from relative to relative until he ended up in Tirana. Zec had hardened his heart at an early age and seemed to find pleasure in violent things. It wasn’t hard to understand why Zec hadn’t be able to find a woman interested in being with him for more than a night.

Besian wanted to say more. He wanted to offer Zec advice or promise his friend there was someone out there for him. But he didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to offer empty, pretty words. The truth was probably going to be much uglier. So, he kept his thoughts to himself and clapped Zec on the back.

Zec shrugged off his hand and gestured with a lift of his chin toward Marley. “I think your bride is ready to start the honeymoon.”

Besian found her standing with Stefana. She held out her wrist so Stefana could remove the pearl bracelet she wore and tuck it into her purse. As if she could feel his stare, Marley glanced at him and smiled. Her sultry expression confirmed what Zec had suspected.

As he stood to join her, Zec offered some ribald advice. “Remember you’re not twenty anymore. Stay hydrated. Eat some protein. Maybe do some stretches so you don’t pull a muscle or get a cramp.”

“Are you done yet?” He glared at his best friend.

“That’s what she said,” Zec muttered and poured himself yet another glass of rakia.

Besian swiped it and downed it in one go. He returned the empty glass to the table. “Stop drinking and go to bed before you end up getting into trouble.”

“Me?” Zec laughed. “What kind of trouble could I possibly find in a fine establishment like this?”

Besian could think of at least a dozen different ways and shook his head as he left the table. He paused to hug Drita and thank Dusan for coming to the wedding. He spent a few moments with Luka, making sure to let his nephew know how much he truly appreciated all Luka had done to give Marley a beautiful wedding. Rina caught him before he made it to Marley and gave him a tearful hug as she congratulated him.

Finally, he reached Marley and Stefana who smiled knowingly and excused herself after offering her best wishes. Marley grasped his hand and waved at their small group of guests before allowing him to lead her out of the restaurant and toward the lobby. As they neared the elevators, he asked, “Why were you wearing Stefana’s bracelet?”

“It was my something borrowed,” she explained, leaning against him as they waited. “My something old is the cross. My something new are these.” She flicked the diamond and pearl earrings Luka and Rina had gifted her.

“And your something blue?” The elevator dinged and the doors opened to an empty car.

Marley took both of his hands and dragged him into the elevator. With a flirtatious smile, she said, “Get me upstairs and out of this dress and you’ll find out.”

Besian couldn’t hit the button for their floor fast enough.

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