Chapter 17
Ellie
Kat walked in the door, keys in hand and froze in place when she saw me behind the bar. “Not to sound like a cliché, but are you even supposed to be here today?”
I shrugged. The bar was a good reason to be out of the lakefront condo. If I stayed, Ringo would kiss me senseless again, and we’d end up in bed, and…
Well, none of that helped either of us.
Kat moved closer. “Are you hungover?”
“No.” Last night I quit at three drinks like usual.
“Then why so quiet? Usually, you would have hit me with at least two smart comebacks by now. Is your coffee machine broke?”
Until she mentioned it, I had blocked out the trouble at my place. Ringo wouldn’t let me go in this morning, but he’d parked across from the broken slider now boarded up with plywood and crime tape.
“Ellie?” She waved a hand in front of my face.
“He asked me to marry him.”
Both of her eyebrows went up. She blinked at least twice, open and shut her mouth, then finally got her synapses online and working enough to ask, “Which he are we talking? Ringo?”
I nodded. “Well, first he gave me a choice. Mistress or wife, but— Shit, come to think of it he only gave me the choice. He didn’t ask.”
“That bastard.” She delivered the words with all the enthusiasm of cardboard.
“What?”
Her face. The one that said, “you know better” while also saying, “you are one dumb white chick, you know that?” I squinted at her because I honestly didn’t know why she was singling me out on this.
“When’s the wedding?”
My shoulders went up at her sharp tone. “I don’t know.”
“Valentine’s Day next year, or—?”
“No.” That was Allie’s day now— her and her husband’s. I couldn’t take that date from them. Although waiting a year to see if Ringo was serious or not was probably a good idea.
“So, when?”
The futility of loving him hit me. “Maybe never?”
She took the stool across from me and watched me prep lime wedges. “You know your problem?”
“I have a bitch-ass friend with a big mouth and an attitude?”
Kat snorted. “No. You don’t know how to be happy.”
I protested. “Oh, that I know how to do. You’ve been with me many of the times when I’ve been happy.”
“I mean with a guy.”
My mind went blank. I didn’t have a smart comeback for that. “I was happy with Johnny.”
“No, you weren’t.”
Was she serious?
Kat ignored my glare and pushed on. “You were unsure when you were dating. So much so, you made a pact to not sleep with him until the ink dried. Then, you got all caught up in wedding plans—I think that did make you happy. I swear you were more like your sister in those moments than I’ve ever seen you.
Anyways, once the plans were made you opened your eyes and immediately knew he wasn’t all he was cracked up to be, and you suspected he was cheating on you.
You told your lawyer to find out, and went on fooling yourself. ”
I regretted ever confiding in her. Although, that regret wasn’t as deep as the remorse I felt about dating Johnny. I’d wasted a ton of time and money on him. “I’m not fooling myself.”
“No? Then why do you think Ringo is the one?”
“Oh, he’s the one. If there ever was a man perfect for me, he’s it.”
Her eyes focused on me. The scrutiny was so sharp, I felt it cutting through the layers of my bullshit. “What?”
Kat sighed. “You have always been the kind of person who brags about herself but does it in a way everyone knows you’re joking. Which makes me think you don’t value yourself. And if someone is perfect for you, then they aren’t worth the risk. So, you pick the most awful choices possible.”
She had a point. A terrible one. But she was wrong about Ringo.
“Let me list some things. One, he’s good-looking.
He’s athletic…” He can cut a man’s throat in under three seconds.
“He’s got a good smile.” A totally disarming one that is lethal in the right circumstances.
“And, he’s got money, or at least a lot of friends with money and doesn’t need or want me to buy a car. ”
“Fucking Pornstach.”
I narrowed my eyes at her for her interruption.
“Go on… extol the bonafides of your latest conquest.”
Something in her tone warned me. “I thought you were okay with him?”
Her hesitation was telling.
“Oh, geesh. Tell me now before I go off and marry him, spend a lot of money on bullshit, or something dumb like I did with Johnny.”
“I never said anything about Johnny because… well, you seemed happy and it all happened so quickly that I didn’t really get a chance to talk to you about it.
And then you were off to Vegas and I offered to watch the bar, but you know what?
That fucking hurt. We’ve been best friends since second grade, and you cut me out like that. ” She snapped her fingers.
She was right, I had. “In second grade you tried to wax the floor with my face.”
“See? Friends. If you were an enemy, I’d have accomplished that feat.”
“What did you dislike about Johnny?”
Kat hesitated again. “Do you promise to let me tell you everything and not interrupt?”
I couldn’t.
“Okay, you’ll interrupt, but don’t you dare defend that baby-faced bastard.”
Considering he held me at gunpoint last night? He could rot in Hell. “I’m ready. Hit me.”
Her eyebrow went up as if contemplating my turn of phrase.
“Not for real, ‘kay?”
Kat held up her first finger. “That mustache.”
I rolled my eyes. It was on the tip of my tongue to defend him. I mean, genetics isn’t a character flaw.
A second finger went up. “He dressed flashy, but trashy.”
That didn’t make sense. “What?”
“Walmart shoes and Armani? Please.”
Okay. “…But Armani—”
“He shopped his father’s closet or a thrift store for that suit.”
“Next.”
She lowered her hand. “The way his eyes roved when he was with you.”
The morning Dianora left his apartment flashed through my thoughts. “That witch stole my hoodie.”
Kat pushed up each sleeve. “Where is she? Imma gonna get it back.”
I laughed. “In lockup somewhere in Italy. She tried to kill her father, wait, succeeded in killing him. And she killed her brother here. Well convinced—” I cut my words off because the FBI agent who’d been shadowing the bar walked in.
“FBI Agent Perkins. You’re visiting us early.”
Kat stiffened but managed to plaster on a wide grin. “One of Chicago’s finest of the finest. Wow. I didn’t know we were that popular.”
Her gaze took in the two of us. “I’m not here on business. Vodka grapefruit if you have it.”
It was barely two in the afternoon. “One Salty Dog coming up.” I pulled a monster-sized grapefruit out, sliced off a nice wedge, and then juiced the rest. At least Agent Perkins was getting her vitamin C with her booze.
Meanwhile, Kat asked, “What’s wrong?”
Perkins shook her head. “I need that drink first.”
I strained it into her glass and set the garnish. Then, I poured a shot each for Kat and I from our special stock under the bar. It was iced tea with just a splash of premium lemon vodka to taste. I lifted my glass and quickly toasted, “A bird never flew on one wing.”
She sucked down half of her glass. When she set it down, she sighed. “You can just call me Bridget now.”
Kat shot a question at me.
“Not agent, or special agent?” I asked.
“I’ve been terminated. They told me to go home.”
A likely story. One crafted to get me to sympathize with her. But I wasn’t going to. “Where’s home?” My words were a little too sharp.
To answer, she pulled out her wallet and flashed her ID and the contents at me. “I can tell you won’t believe me, so I’ll show you. I came here from Boston. I haven’t even gotten my license updated. And see, no badge. Are you satisfied now?”
“Boston. Funny, I never pegged your accent,” Kat interjected.
“I spent most of my childhood in finishing schools. They wiped that shit right out the first semester.” She tucked the wallet back into her purse. “They took my badge and gun this morning.”
“What did you do?” Kat asked.
Bridget gave her a side-eye. “It’s what wouldn’t do. That’s the problem. And don’t ask.” She stared at her glass and sighed. “Fucking politics.”
Even though she scared the hell out of me, and even though this could be a trap, I was angry on her behalf if she was telling the truth. I leaned in and divulged one secret. “In the Blarney Zone, you’re free to embellish the shit out of your life.”
“Ellie’s an expert on that.”
I glared at Kat.
“What? Like your lying is a secret?”
Bridget Perkins followed the conversation with curiosity. More than I was comfortable with.
“Heck, it’s almost as notorious as your bad taste in men.”
“Here now. Let’s not, and say we did.” She was treading on dangerous ground.
Kat, however, didn’t listen. Instead, she looped Perkins in on the conversation we had earlier. “Bridget, a hypothetical for you, if your best friend was dating a—”
“Careful.” I poured myself another shot because this was not going to go well. Maybe after five or more of these I’d have just enough alcohol in my system to kick her ass.
“—someone who’s bad for her. Okay?” She shot me a look before continuing. “And they know this fact, but they don’t want to hear it. How would you spill the beans?”
Perkins blinked. “Up until thirty minutes ago, I would have run a full background check on him and handed off the results. But now? Jesus.” She stared off into space. The musing went on for only a few seconds, then her attention snapped to me. “Johnny Porciello?”
Fuck the kindergarten booze. I needed fortification. I tugged down the Jameson and filled my shot glass to the brim. Kat noticed and bit her lip.
“I guess that’s no secret,” Perkins continued, oblivious. “I ran him, his friends, and you and your family. Sorry.”
I slammed the shot. It went down with a roar and kept fighting when it hit my guts. I breathed through the battle until I won. “You wouldn’t be the first agent digging into my life.”
“Nor the last, I’m sure of that.”
Kat was not being helpful.
Perkins frowned. “Did you know your sister’s file is only this thick?” She held up her fingers barely two millimeters apart. “And yours?” She laughed.