Page 123 of Oh No! There's an Incubus in my Hot Spring
He scoffs. “You’re going to invite me to your table after what I did?”
“And what is it you did?” I ask.
“I weaponized your ex-boyfriend to separate you and ruin your business.”
“Well, you failed on both counts,” I say with a satisfied smile. “We’re still in business, and in love.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Touché.”
He glances at Apollo, who gives him a gentle nod. Mark strips off his boots and coat, setting them next to the fireplace, and approaches the dining room table warily.
“Is your mother still alive?” I ask, walking into the kitchen for a bottle of wine.
“She is. Gabrielle Torres. She retired to Hawaii with my father,” he says.
“Hawaii,” Apollo says with a touch of whimsy as he checks on the sourdough for our dinner. “I visited the main island once in the mid-nineteenth century. It was a tumultuous time for the country with the United States attempting to acquire it as a territory, but it was still quite beautiful. A very interesting culture.”
“Uhh.” Mark and I exchange a glance.
I guess history lessons will be in order.
Apollo nods his approval at the rising loaf in the oven and I pour us each a good serving of wine. He nuzzles my hair as he takes two of the glasses, and I can’t help but smile. We join Mark at the table and all take a seat.
His expression is softer now, his eyes less severe as he accepts the wine. “Thanks. Not poisoned, is it?”
I chuckle and pass him my wineglass instead.
“What if you’ve already taken the antidote?” he asks.
“What do I look like, Vizzini, a great fool?”
Mark laughs and accepts his wineglass. He takes a drink and hums in appreciation. “Pretty good for poison.”
“Just wait for dinner,” I say.
We sit in quiet for a moment and it occurs to me that I’m going to have to facilitate this reunion.
Fine. I’ll do it.
“You married?”
He shakes his head. “I’ve been too focused on growing the business.”
“Yeah, me too.” I take a deep breath and grab Apollo’s hand. “It’s a lot easier with a partner.”
“Are you recommending I get married for the free labor?” Mark asks with a smarmy grin.
I roll my eyes. “You’re such an asshole.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that.” He takes another sip of wine.
“Why are you such an asshole?” Apollo asks and I choke on my drink.
Mark smiles. “My therapist says I have childhood trauma or something like that.”
I swallow and clear my throat. “Therapy is good.”
“I’m really fucking jealous of you,” he says, looking at me.
