Page 92 of A Labor of Hate
I sent her an unrepentant grin and took the lead as we wound our way through the bowling alley.Pins crashed as someone got a strike, followed by a cheer from the group she’d come with.The screens above each alley flashed and sang out their electronic tunes with each person’s turn.The smell of cheap pizza and shoe deodorizing spray permeated the air.
It wasn’t much in the way of venues for an engagement party, but the kids at the library sang its praises.And who wouldn’t trust the glowing reviews of little humans who thought lollipops were a complete meal?Clearly, they had their priorities straight.
The crack of bowling balls against pins drowned out any chances of meaningful conversation, so I trudged along with our white elephant gifts in tow.I didn’t care about engagement gifts so much as celebrating with my friends and coworkers, so the white elephant was a perfect party activity.Especially since my white elephant gift was a voucher for a date with Dekker.
And no, she did not know about this.
But the poor girl woke up earlier than Colt and went to bed before the sun.In December.She had to witness Colt and I in our engaged bliss, so it only seemed fair that I help her get her own happily ever after.Introvert that she was, I didn’t see her going out of her way to find anyone by herself.
Sure, all of the squad as far as I knew were engaged or married, McBride excluded.But they could’ve come with a friend or sibling, or maybe they knew someone they could set up with Dekker.I stood by my decision.
Dekker and I breezed into the room, met with a variety of greetings from those who’d beaten us there.Colt had, of course, along with Isaiah and his wife, Rowan and her wife, and McBride and Hattie.
My thoughts turned to Vivienne, wherever she was.She would’ve loved to be here.I hoped she, Charles, and baby Matisse were happy.
I greeted Colt with a kiss, still unsure about our PDA around McBride.When we’d disclosed that we’d fallen in love with each other—but hadn’t fraternized in the way he’d forbidden—I’d nearly turned into a statue from the tension.As the newest transfer, I’d be getting the boot if one of us had to go.
Ultimately, he’d told us to disclose the relationship to HR and warned that it better not affect our work, no matter the outcome.Apparently, he’d forbidden hooking up while we were undercover, but even he couldn’t forbid falling in love.Since we hadn’t broken his rule, we were still in the clear.Then, surprisingly, he’d recommended we put a ring on it pronto since it was less likely for agents who were married to each other to get transferred elsewhere.
Colt had taken his sweet time—six months of it—before doing so.By most sane people’s standards, that was an insanely short amount of time.But when you know, you know.
And I knew.
Oh, did I know.
“Jack’s recommendation was pretty solid, wasn’t it?”Colt asked, looking around the run-down room, complete with peeling painted balloons on the wall.
I took in the plastic chairs and dollar store tablecloths, the gift table, and the table laden with food.Soft Christmas music drifted through the room from a speaker on the gift table.McBride chatted with Hattie and Isaiah, while Isaiah’s wife talked with the other two women and Dekker set up her cupcakes.Colt, in his starched red shirt—festive and daring, I know—stood out like a disco ball in a mud puddle.
I grinned.“I’m pretty sure the person I talked to when reserving the room thought I was certifiable or something when I mentioned that we’d be using it for a company Christmas party.For adults.On a Saturday night.But I’ve got to admit, it’s pretty perfect.”
We joined Dekker at the food table.Thankfully, she and Colt got along great.Mostly at my expense, but what can you do?
“Who all are we waiting for?”Dekker asked after McBride summoned Colt to join their conversation, eying the bottles of nonalcoholic bubbly, courtesy of Charles’ cellars.
Her eyes lit up in excitement, though she didn’t comment on thefaux-secco.She didn’t talk about it much, but I knew she didn’t drink.Probably for the same reasons Colt didn’t.With the help of Charles’ last will and testament gifting his dear Lamaze friends the bulk of his nonalcoholic champagne, Dekker didn’t have to miss out on anything this time.
When Charles and Vivienne Gauthier “died,” they’d willed the management of the restaurants to Gavin, with the stipulation that a portion of the profits Charles used to earn be donated to a specific charity each month.I was pretty sure that charity was actually little Matisse’s college fund, but it wasn’t like I wanted to prove it or anything.
Aside from new recipes Gavin conveniently “finds” in a cookbook we all knew Charles never made, there hadn’t been any signs of life from the former-Gauthiers.Rumor had it that the government had recruited him and his expertise for their own devices, but if things went well, I’d never know.It took some time, but I’d made my peace with that.
I chuckled and passed Dekker a plastic flute.“I know Max said he was coming, but Alec has a family party in Chicago, and you already know Annie and Kris can’t come.So, probably just Max and his fiancée.”I gestured to the bottles offaux-secco.“You can start pouring out glasses for everyone now, if you want.Knowing Hattie, she’ll want to start with the toasts and dramatic flair and get to the boring stuff after that.”
Dekker’s brow wrinkled before a smile took over her face.Her voice was a tad higher pitched, like she was trying to keep a lid on her anxiety for my sake.“Sounds like a plan to me.”
Weird.We’d been to much larger gatherings together, some even recently, and she usually lasted longer than this before getting overwhelmed and socially burnt out.Maybe the bowling alley was too much at once?
She handed me my own flute before I could ask her.The color drained from her face, and her eyes went as wide as dinner plates.
“Oh, sweet onions and broccoli,” she muttered to herself, her words rushing together as her distress increased.“No, no, nononono.He can’t be here.Ican’t be here.”
“What on earth are you talking about?”
I followed her gaze toward the entrance to the event space, where Max had just walked through the door.Alone.No fiancée after all.Huh.
He shook snow out of his short hair, the white powder providing a stark contrast against the black.His brawny shoulders blocked most of the doorway and filled out his overcoat nicely, and his white Christmas sweater popped against his olive skin.If I didn’t know him as well as I did, he’d look freakishly intimidating.
That is, until he grinned, which he did the second he caught sight of Isaiah.His face brightened immediately into the cheerful agent I knew.
