Page 198 of Sweet Dominion

“Not when we bleed blue.”

Another countered, waving a forkful of Chef Foo’s crispy pork, "No, no, the pork is clearly superior. It’s not even about the East or the South. Stick to the food!"

I checked out the other areas.

Everyone had returned to their games. Aunt Min appeared to be getting some challenge from Einstein, but she was clearly still winning.

After several minutes, I checked our table and confirmed that all the other judges had committed to their favorite contestant and put the name onto their slips of paper.

Granted, Fen had to write Chen’s pick because apparently, he’d begun writing a poem on his slip.

Chen swayed off beat to Earth, Wind, & Fire’s “September” and turned to Fen. “Are you sure the poem was unnecessary?”

Smiling, Fen nodded. “I don’t think everyone is ready for that.”

“I rather think the poem would have added some more culture to the event.”

Fen patted his arm. “I think you should save that poem for next time.”

Chen didn’t say anything else. Instead, he gazed at Fen’s hand on him and this silly smile spread across his face. “Your hand is. . .very soft.”

“Thank you, Chen.”

I gazed further down the table.

Dima had been entrusted with the important task of gathering and tallying our votes. Currently, he collected the last of the slipsfrom Chloe and Aunt Suzi and then he shuffled the papers in his hands like a seasoned card dealer.

Loud laughter came from near the stage.

I looked that way.

Chef Foo and Banks were now both on their second beer and had still been talking. They stood by the stage conversating about something that had both of their eyes wide with enjoyment.

Hmmm.

I considered Banks’s apology on the stage earlier.

I still wanted to beat his ass for all the commotion earlier, but I also knew that Banks had done it to be there for Moni.

Just then, Chef Foo and Banks clinked their beer bottles together in salute and snickered about something.

I’ll accept your apology, Banks. Just move with respect from now on.

I checked his mother’s table and spotted Marcelo staring at Moni for a few seconds and then gazing back down to his cards.

But what will I do with you?

Moni didn’t want me to kill Marcelo. And I found it difficult to lie to her. All of that put me in a tough spot to make a violent move against him and the South. If I did manage to get rid of Marcelo, she would come to me and ask if I had anything to do with it and. . .I had no idea if I could keep the dishonesty off my face.

Pressure built in my chest.

And I can’t lose her. No matter how much I want to kill that son of a bitch.

So I promised myself to keep my impulses under control.

For now. . .

Ruminations of violence pushed aside, I refocused on the festivities and put my attention back on Dima.

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