Chapter Twenty
Naomi
My phone buzzes in my clutch, and the moment I unlock the screen I'm rolling my eyes to the heavens.
I know my brother too well and I know exactly what he’s phishing for without having to ask. But, with a sigh, I humor him anyway.
My eyes find Graham across the room with little effort and I kind of hate that. I hate that my senses are somehow trained to find him. Like I’m the world’s best homing pigeon but only for Graham fucking Rosales.
His bubbles pop up again before I can refute or correct that statement.
I suck my teeth when a picture of Graham working out, clearly pulled from his social media pops up on my text thread.
He has no right to look that hot when he’s that sweaty.
And of course, it’s a shot where he’s not wearing a shirt so all eight of his abs are in the shot. Who even took this picture?!
I roll my eyes so hard I see my brain.
After the incident with Clara four years ago, Nathan made himself more of a presence at The Pink Flamingo.
Which meant he was stuck around his long-term on and off again boyfriend.
The two of them ended up back on again and in a miraculous turn of events, never went back off.
They’ve been married an entire year now, which is really impressive for my brother.
I shut off my phone, shoving it back in clutch, reaching for my water. I’ve been occupying the same high top at this little shindig for the last hour.
A bunch of Elias and Rowan’s family drove in today so they can attend the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.
Ivelisse and the sister I have yet to meet have caught Clara in a rapid-fire conversation I could never follow even if I was fluent in Spanish.
Cousins and nephews and nieces run in between groups of adults, trying to catch up to Cristian.
Not the party type, he brought a soccer ball to the outdoor event and has offered whoever can steal the ball from him one hundred bucks.
Meanwhile, Nelly has taken full possession of Elias’ eldest niece’s baby daughter and refuses to give her up.
I’m pretty fucking sure if she batted her lashes at him hard enough, Elias would let her kidnap that baby.
If she’s not knocked up by the time they come back from their honeymoon I will not only be shocked, but I will owe Clara so much fucking money.
The way they go at it, I’m surprised she’s not pregnant right now.
I know for a fact she had her IUD removed weeks ago.
She Facetimed me while she was having it taken out, as if this was an experience I absolutely needed to be part of.
I mean, it totally was. I did not however, need her to show me the little device once it was out of her.
A belated shiver racks my spine. Sometimes I fear we might be a little too close. Love them both to death, but I could live without the overtly detailed descriptions of either Elias or Rowan’s girth.
“Cold?”
“Fuck!” I nearly jump out of my own skin when Graham appears behind me. Okay, maybe I’m not a homing pigeon for him. I didn’t even notice him making his way over here. Hand to my chest, I glare at him. “You scared the shit out of me.”
He smirks. “Now we’re even. You know, from when you startled me the other day.”
“I was already on the porch, asshole. You failing to notice me was hardly my fault.”
I raise my glass to my lips. I had the bartender put my water in a Tom Collins glass with a wedge of lemon to be more discreet about not joining the festivities.
What I told Cristian the other day was true.
I really don’t want to make a big deal out of this whole sobriety thing, especially not the week of Nelly’s wedding.
Tomorrow is her rehearsal dinner and then the wedding.
Then she’ll be off on the most amazing honeymoon with the man of her dreams. I’ll tell her after.
I will definitely tell her and Clara after.
“This dress is familiar,” Graham notes, setting his beer down on the high-top next to my glass.
I look down at the black satin number with the very open back.
I paired it with a pair of gold heels which are now killing my feet.
I used to never notice that before, how much my feet hurt.
Turns out alcohol numbs everything. “Black is a little ominous for a wedding party though.”
“Don’t worry,” I raise my glass to my lips. “My rehearsal dinner dress is greener than your eyes.”
“Not neon I hope.”
I snort, remembering the horrible bridesmaid dress Flora Hastings picked out for Nelly’s last wedding. “God no. Emerald,” I assure him.
“Same heels?”
I look down at my gold, strappy shoes. “Maybe?”
He nods appreciatively. “That’ll look great on you.”
I cock my head and my hip. “Since when do you take interest in women’s fashion, Graham Rosales?”
A slight smirk pulls at his mouth. “I was taught complimentary colors at a very young age, Naomi Mychal,” he rebuttals with my full name. “I grew up rich remember? Poverty is a newly acquired status.”
“You’re not impoverished,” I roll my eyes. “And I’d bet my Amex you have more than… Nintey thousand in the bank?”
Graham nods, impressed. “It’s one-fifty, but who’s really counting.”
“Quite a bit too much to be impoverished. Let’s call you frugal,” I correct. “Childless, unmarried, mildly responsible.”
“Only mildly,” he agrees. He takes a sip of his beer. “Look at us having a civil conversation. High five?” I glower at him. “Your loss.”
I snort when he claps his own hand, reaching for my water again as I watch Cristian just barely dodge one of his aunts in an evasive maneuver away from his cousins.
She shouts something at him in Spanish that sounds very much like a reprimand, and he expertly dribbles as he turns back to apologize with a shrug.
“How long has it been since Elias’ family has gotten together like this?”
“Shit,” Graham drags a hand through his hair. “Fifteen years? Maybe more? He tries to get up here every year if he can, but his schedule always made it hard. And then there was the issue of staying near Cristian.”
“I’m guessing Vivian never let Elias take Cristian to New York for a visit?”
“She might be the actual queen of hell,” Graham informs me solemnly.
I clink my glass against his in agreement, still watching Cristian play keep away with cousins he may well have just met for the first time.
Granted, most of them are young kids. The ones closer to his age are much too well dressed to chase a professional fútbol player.
I’m not even sure how Cristian is doing it in that suit.
It must be some ridiculously expensive and breathable fabric for him to dodge like that.
An actual very loud laugh escapes me when he avoids all the children only for Rowan to stick his foot out and steal the ball right out from between his feet.
“Oyé! Qué buen quite, Rowan!” Graham calls as the bodyguard begins dribbling the ball expertly. “Cristian se hace el loco y se le olvida quién fue su maestro!”
I don’t know exactly what he said, but I got that the gist of it was that Cristian is too confident for his own good.
The game turns into Rowan and Cristian bouncing the ball back and forth between them, never letting it touch the ground.
One of the cousins joins in, then an uncle.
Soon even Elias is balancing a beer in one hand while he passes the ball between his knees.
Nelly is smiling so hard I bet her cheeks freeze that way, which will be great for the pictures. I lose that very bet, however, the moment she looks my way. Then at Graham, then at me again and suddenly she’s making a beeline for us. Oh, God what the fuck is this about?
“Code Red,” I mutter under my breath.
Graham snorts but loses all humor when Nelly appears in front of us, still holding Elias’ great niece- her great niece now too I suppose- and glares from him to me back to him back to me as if we personally just lit her alter on fire.
“Were the two of you ever planning to tell me that you spent the better half of the last four years fucking each other senseless?!”
I blink.
The waiter blinks.
A much too close aunt gasps.
Graham looks suspiciously guilty.
Oh, fuck no. “You motherfucker,” I snarl at him.
“Hold on,” he holds up a finger. “In my defense, I did not tell her—”
“No, you probably told Elias! Which is worse!”
“How?!”
“Because he tells her fucking everything you gaping asshole! What the fuck, Graham!? Are you shitting my dick?!”
He winces. “I am shitting nobody’s dick, and Rowan and Clara already knew!”
“WHAT?!” Nelly gapes. “Clara KNEW?!”
“Oh shit…”
“CLARA?!”
Our little blonde friend turns our way and immediately knows we’re all very much in trouble by the scowl on Nelly’s face, the guilt on Graham’s, and the fury on mine.
“Aye Dios mío…”