“We’re all weird,” I said. “If we weren’t, we’d be out living normal lives, earning minimum wage in a nine-to-five job before moving on to an evening side hustle just to pay rent as we dream of houses we’ll never be able to buy and lives we’ll never be able to live. Instead, we’re huddled in Rose’s garage on a Friday night, eating stale petit fours and planning a heist and a wedding.”
“Emma seems kind of normal,” Anil said.
Emma flipped a pen across her knuckles, feet up on the chair where Jack should have been sitting. “I have a side gig as a clown.”
“Fuck.” Gage shuddered. “I hate clowns.”
“And I hate priests.” Her eyes glazed over for a moment and then she shook herself and smiled. “Just wait until you see me in costume.”
“You show up here dressed as a clown and I’ll lose my shit,” Gage said. “I won’t be responsible for what might happen.”
Emma leaned back and laughed. “Now, that is something I’d like to see. Next time we meet, I’m going full Pennywise on you.”
“Emma . . .” I shook my head. “Let’s try not to send any of our fellow crew members into years of therapy. Maybe he had a bad experience with a clown when he was younger. It’s not good to dredge up those old memories.”
“I had a bad experience with a dog,” Anil said. “It waited at the end of the road and chased me home every day. My mother couldn’t understand why I was coming home with wet pants. She thought I was afraid to use the university toilets.”
“How old were you?” Emma asked, frowning.
“Twenty-one.”
Her lips quivered at the corners. “And now?”
“Twenty-five.”
“That was only four years ago,” she said. “Is the dog . . . ?”
“He was hit by a car.” Anil sucked in his lips. “I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t go to his funeral.”
“But not ashamed about . . . ?” She waved her hands vaguely in the air, as if words had failed her.
“My mother says lots of people have accidents when they’re scared,” he retorted. “Even Gage just admitted he would lose control of his bowels if you dressed up as a clown.”
Gage muttered something under his breath that didn’t sound very priest-like. “That’s not the kind of shit I’d lose.”
I rapped my knuckles on the whiteboard. “If you’re done pretending you’re still in middle school, we need a van to carry supplies. I also thought it might be a nice bonding experience if we travel to the mansion together.”
“Not riding the fucking party bus,” Gage said.
“I didn’t think you would.” I looked around the room. “Anyone else have togetherness issues?”
As it turned out, it was a moot question. No one had a car. Who could afford one? Traffic was always bad in Chicago. There was nowhere to park. Between gas and expenses, it was a disaster waiting to happen.
“I know someone with a van,” Emma said. “I’ll work something out with him and meet everyone here tomorrow morning.”
“You’re all free to go.” I gave the crew a magnanimous wave. “Enjoy your Friday night. Don’t party too hard. We’re meeting the Angelinis at ten a.m. If you’re riding the ‘party bus,’ be here at nine a.m.”
No one moved.
“I usually spend my Fridays gaming online in my parents’ basement with a bunch of fourteen-year-old kids,” Anil said, tossing an apple in the air.
“I drive my Uber to places I wish I could go if I had the money.” Emma folded her hands behind her head.
“I go to the gym.” Cristian shrugged when I frowned. “It’s always quiet on Friday nights. Most of my clients are busy with their husbands or family.”
I don’t think anything could have surprised me more. Cristian was always talking about his crazy nights out at bars and parties. It hadn’t occurred to me that there were nights he might be alone.
“Olivia and I play games or watch rom-coms,” Chloe said.
“Rose and I were planning to watch crime shows and drink every time the killer leaves an accidental clue.” I looked around the room at my merry band of misfits. “There’s always room for a few more.”
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
?Rose knew a lot of drinking games.
We were still going strong when Chef Pierre returned from his evening deep dish pizza class with five boxes of leftovers. He joined in the fun until Rose dragged him off to bed.
After that, things really got crazy. Cristian was one of those guys who became hyper when he drank too much. Gage took him outside to work it off with a wrestling match on the back lawn. Chloe couldn’t take her eyes off Gage. She was a happy, giggly drunk and her running commentary on their match had me in stitches.
We called it a draw even though Gage was the clear winner and went back inside for more refreshments. At some point we started singing. Chloe had an incredible voice. Toneless Cristian almost broke my eardrums. Anil could sing harmony. Emma drummed on Rose’s pots and pans. And even Gage joined in.
It was a good night. So good I didn’t know how I wound up on my bed in the basement suite with Jack beside me, his face illuminated only by the faint warm glow of streetlights through the curtains.
“Where were you?” I rolled to my side and propped my head up with my elbow, mimicking Jack’s pose. He was wearing a black T-shirt and jeans and his jaw was rough with a five-o’clock shadow. “You missed our emergency meeting.”
“I had to visit my cousin. He owns a greenhouse. I figured you’d need someone to handle the flowers.” He ran a finger down my arm, sending a wave of goose bumps across my skin.
“You figured right, mister.” I poked his chest with my free hand; at least I tried to poke his chest, but my hand wasn’t going where my brain was telling it to go.
“I thought you said you could outdrink anybody.” He caught my hand, wound his fingers through mine. “Looks to me like you might have pushed your limit.”
“I did outdrink them. I was the last one standing.”
“Actually, you were lying on the floor when I walked in,” he said. “I thought you’d be more comfortable in your bed. I didn’t realize your room wasn’t habitable until the water soaked through my shoes.”
“You carried me?” I flushed with pleasure even though I should have been concerned that I’d been so drunk, he’d picked me up and I hadn’t even noticed.
“You didn’t seem to want to be vertical.” He brought our joined hands to his cheek, pressed his lips to my palm.
I didn’t know where this was going, but I wanted more—more gentle touches, more quiet talking, more sexy Jack without the armor.
“I wish I’d been awake,” I said. “I haven’t been carried since I was a child.”
“I’m happy to carry you around whenever you want.” His voice caught as if he was holding himself back, as if there was more he wanted to do. Yes, please!
“You smell good.” I leaned closer and sniffed his neck, breathing in his scent of flowers and earth and the cool evening breeze.