Page 9 of French Martini

“Which will last for three weeks before everyone is back,” Salem says.

“Not to mention the university is still on break until Monday,” Kit adds.

“That’s right,” Ridley says, pausing when Wren steps out of the kitchen carrying a tray of food for one of our few tables.

“Speaking of resolutions,” Salem says, his tone teasing. “Wren made a big one.”

Ridley’s neck practically snaps as he swivels his head in Salem’s direction. “Yeah?”

“He’s gonna look for a new place and finally ditch the loser. He’s just saving up money.”

“We can give him an advance if he needs it,” I say. “No one should stay in a bad situation over finances.”

“It’s more than that. There’s nothing on the market.”

“We have the guest space in the attic,” Bane says. “If Ridley can handle sleeping in the same building with him.”

Salem’s face lights up. “I didn’t think of that.”

Ridley chews on his bottom lip for a second before nodding. “His safety and well-being are more important than my crush. Of course he can stay there. If it’s cool with everyone else.”

“He’s family,” I say. “It’s fine with me.”

“Same,” Indy says as Salem nods.

“Fine with us,” Bane says, glancing at Jerryn, who nods as well.

“I’m good with it,” Kit adds.

“You want to handle it, Salem?” I ask, flipping through the mail and pausing when I get to a larger letter with a fancy envelope and my name scrolled on the front.

Conversation is happening around me, but I’m focused on the letter. I open it and pull out an embossed invitation. As I read it, my pulse picks up and my mouth goes dry. Oh god.

Indy’s hand lands on my shoulder. “What’s wrong, Low?”

I look up, blinking through the shock. “I’ve received a design award through a Parisian publication. They also want me to present an award at a ceremony.”

“That’s amazing,” Salem says. “Why do you look sick?”

“The ceremony is being hosted in New Onyx because they’re opening a branch here in the states.”

“Still doesn’t explain why you look like you saw a ghost.”

Indy takes the invitation from me and reads it, then whispers, “Fuck.”

“What?” Ridley snatches it and reads it. “Dude. Alain is going to be there.”

I try to swallow the lump in my throat, but it feels like sand. I haven’t laid eyes on my ex since the last time I saw him in court. I declined social events and timed my required appearances to avoid him at all costs. The last thing I wanted was for the media to see us in the same space, but more than that, I wanted to forget he ever existed.

“Not just there,” Indy says. “He’s one of the MCs.”

“I can’t go.”

“What?” Kit grabs my wrist. “You’re not gonna let that loser keep you from what you’ve earned. No fucking way.”

I notice Salem shifting his weight and whispering to Indy, whose eyes go wide as he glances at me.

“What?”

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