Minka
SATURDAY
“Why do you always choose gowns with corsets in them?” I can’t breathe. I can’t expand my diaphragm to even half its capacity. My boobs sit significantly higher than normal, thanks to the dumb dress and its dumb push-up feature, and when I walk, they jiggle.
My boobs are jiggling!
“You could have selected anything, Doctor Emeri! You could have picked shirts and yoga pants. You could have picked sweats and sitting in front of the TV. Why did you not consider your best friend’s comfort?”
“I dunno. Something about how it’s my wedding day, and I wanted to look pretty.”
“You’re pretty all the time, and you already got married! It’s not my fault he didn’t tell you.”
Unconcerned with my discomfort, she reclines in the back of the luxury SUV that hangs around sometimes when Tim wants to go places, crossing one leg over the other, though most of that action remains hidden under a poofy white dress.
Fortunately for her, the icy cold air conditioning spares her from the heat outside.
“I wanted this.” She studies perfectly manicured nails, unfazed by the knowledge she’ll have to tear the adornments off come Monday morning.
You can’t be a medical examiner and have glitter falling into a dead body three times before lunchtime. It’s against the rules.
“I wanted the pretty dress, and the hair and the makeup. I wanted the church and everyone to stand when I walk through the doors. I want my day. And frankly, I think you look pretty, too. Which was quite generous of me, considering brides in the past have made beautiful bridesmaids wear taffeta.”
“I think you look delicious.” Cato side-eyes me, gleefully playing with fire.
I could take him out of the city and get rid of his body without breaking a sweat, and yet, he remains entirely too comfortable in his smug disrespect.
He wears a sharp black suit like he was born to put it on, and shiny black shoes, all ready for his role once we arrive at the church.
“You both look like royalty. I’m honored to have such elegant sisters-in-law in my life. ”
“I agree,” Steve rumbles, his cheeks a little flushed and his eyes a little droopy. He’s not wearing a suit, but that’s because he’s not going to the wedding. But what the hell else am I supposed to do with him? The discharge papers have been signed. “I think you look lovely, Ms. Mayet.”
“I especially enjoy the, uh…” Cato points at his chest. “Ya know. Very supple. Very proud.”
“I will slit your throat and drain your body dry.” I wrap my hand around Steve’s wrist, my fingers on his pulse, all so I can threaten one man while ensuring the other stays alive. “I’ll make it hurt, and before I’m done, you’ll beg for mercy.”
“Oh, I’ll beg,” he teases, his eyes glittering with torment. “I’ll say anything you ask me to. I’m not too proud that I won’t play the submissive and let you smack me around a little.”
“Sir?” The driver’s stare flashes in the rearview mirror, his brows pulling tighter as Cato glances around. “I’m under strict instructions to warn you not to flirt with the wives.”
“Strict instructions from who?” he cackles. “I see no worthy opponent.” But then he turns serious, leaning toward Steve. “No offense, old boy.”
“I’m a little slower these days. But I’ll defend their honor if I must.” Steve sits taller, grunting from the effort.
“I’ve got a few moves left over from the sixties.
It was a wild time back then. You either loved, or you waged war.
” He makes a show of balling his fist, rotating it in the air. “Wanna guess which I chose?”
“No, thank you.” I drag his hand down again, displeased with the way his pulse grows faster. “You’re supposed to be resting.”
“At home,” Aubree inserts. “He’s supposed to be resting at home.”
“I can’t take him home! The air conditioning sucks, we haven’t hired a nurse yet, my best friend is getting married, and I refuse to leave him alone. What the hell do you people expect me to do?”
“We’re one minute out, Mrs. Malones.” The driver meets my gaze in the mirror. “Just a couple of blocks.”
“He can stay in the car, right?” I bring my focus back around and search Steve’s saggy expression. “You’ll have him,” I poke a thumb toward the front, “you’ll have air conditioning. We’ll keep the engine running, and I’ll be, like…” I look to Aubree. “Twenty minutes?”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake.” She groans. “Bring him in, you buffoon!”
“Buffoon?” My heart twists with hurt feelings. “Doctor Emeri?”
“He’s not a puppy! He’s a human being, and he has a tick of approval from his cardiothoracic surgeon that says he’s allowed, nay, encouraged,” she exclaims enthusiastically, “to return to basic mobility. He’s fine.” She gestures toward the rumpled old man. “You’re fine, right?”
He nods, slumping in his seat. “Fit as a fiddle.”
Don’t die. Don’t die. Please don’t die. “And none of this helps me figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do tonight. I can’t make him climb four flights of stairs to my apartment. And even if I could, where would he sleep? On the freakin’ floor?”
“You have an entire house on the hills,” Cato singsongs. “Ya know, in case you forgot.”
“Shut up. Having more space solves nothing, because I still need a nurse. What do you suggest I do? Tear Doctor Fielder out of the hospital against her will and force her to…” Wide-eyed, I swing my gaze back to Aubree. “What if we nab Doctor Fielder and force her to—”
“Ah, actually.” Our driver clears his throat again. “Mr. Malone instructed I was to discourage you from breaking the law, Doctor Mayet. I believe kidnapping would fall into this category.”
Frustrated, I scrunch my nose and fold my arms, but Cato’s eyes alight, shooting straight across to my… voluptuousness. “Gah!” I drop my arms again and growl. “What am I supposed to do? Retire and become his nurse? You think I should sleep on his floor?”
“You’re not sleeping on my floor,” Steve grumbles. “Not an acceptable solution.”
“Exactly! It’s not an acceptable solution.”
“You’re making this far more complicated than it needs to be.
” Aubree sits forward as we turn a corner and into a large, circular driveway, then she takes out a small mirror and checks her makeup: flawless, of course.
“I could tell you how this is gonna go.” She uses her nail to perfect her lipstick, carving a precise line around her bow lips.
“I’ve known since the moment we saw him in the hospital. ”
“You know?” Desperation is like a vine, growing and stretching inside my belly. “You’d tell me?”
“I could.” She snaps her mirror closed and grins. “But it’s gonna piss you off.”
“You could tell me if he’s going to die, too, right?” I snag her arm as the car comes to a stop outside the church, and security guards—a lot of them—surround our SUV. “Like, if I said I was going to leave him in the car for a bit, you’d know right away if that was a bad plan?”
“I could answer that,” Cato giggles. “It’s a bad plan. People are charged for leaving their dogs and babies in the car, Chief. Abandoning your elderly neighbor while he’s recovering from a heart attack would fall under the committing a crime banner Archer forbade you from.”
“Shut up! Nobody asked you.” When a guard outside our car steps forward and opens the door, I surge across Aubree’s lap and pull it shut again, digging my elbow into her thigh and eliciting her yelp of pain as I flip the lock and keep the Men In Black out.
“Tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do, Aubs.
You know the answers. This is an exam, and you have the books open on your desk. Just tell me already.”
“Doctor Emeri?” The guard outside taps on the tinted window. “Everything alright in there?”
“You’re spilling outta your dress, Chief.” Cato’s glittering green eyes latch onto my tits. “I like it.”
I kick out at his face, determined to impale his eye socket with my heel. But youth and athleticism make him fast, his hand parrying my leg easily to the side. “Saucy.”
“Aubree!”
“You’re cramping my wedding day, Chief Mayet.
” She unfastens her belt and does the same for Steve, then she peels my fingers off the door handle.
“Get out of the car, be my maid of honor, as is your job. Cato will stay with Steve, and both will attend my wedding and enjoy celebrating love. Also, note how Cato taunts me less than he taunts you?” She taps her window and draws a deep breath, dropping her gaze and twisting when the door opens and guards surround us.
She slides off the tall seat and onto elegant heels, fixing her dress and tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear.
Satisfied with how she looks, she turns and offers a hand to Steve, though her bright blue eyes pity me. “I’m not more protected than you, Chief. Tim is not scarier. I don’t have a force field surrounding me, keeping the gnat away.”
“Hey.” Cato unsnaps his seatbelt. “Did you just call me a gnat?”
“Maybe it’s because I grew up with seven other siblings,” she murmurs, her biceps bulging as she helps Steve out of the car. “I learned long ago to stop feeding into the drama.”
“I’m not feeding into it! I just want him to stop.”
“He won’t stop, because your reactions are entirely ridiculous. They’re over the top, they’re loud, they’re kinda funny for those of us watching on.”
“My reactions are not funny! I just want him to stop being a dick.”
“Is it working out for you?” She passes Steve off to the closest set of hands, only to turn back and take her veil, carefully tugging the six-foot fabric out of the car and placing it in Mary’s waiting hands.
Because this Mary is like Mary Poppins, if Mary Poppins worked for the mafia and knew how to handle a pistol.
“Thank you. I’m thrilled you could attend this weekend. ”