Green-Eyed Envy (15 page)

I tapped the pen against my clipboard again and gave a sunny smile. “I think I just might take you up on that offer, Mr. Esteban.”

He responded to the flirtatiousness in my voice with a smile of his own. Just at that moment, however, a loud spatter of Spanish intermixed with English broke out across the room. We both whirled and saw—what a shock—Camilla exchanging heated words with Harper’s youngest sister, Marisol. I let out a vexed noise and started to move over to break up the fight.

Victor laid a hand on my shoulder before I’d gotten more than a step away. “Allow me.” He rolled his eyes in a mirror of my own gesture moments before. “Camilla may be a pain in the ass, but she also has a slight infatuation with me.” He nodded toward Harper. “The consultant’s bringing over Harper’s gown now, and I know you’ll be of more use to her than I will.”

I could have kissed him then and there for saving me from going another round with Bridesmaid Number 6, but he was already halfway across the room so I stepped over to the blushing bride instead.

Although, from the gritted teeth and tight-lipped expressions on the faces of all four women, Harper’s red cheeks were more likely due to anger or frustration than excitement over trying on the gown in which she’d say the words “I do” to her hunk-a hunk-a burning love. I swooped in, gathering the gown in question from the intimidated bridal consultant hesitating in the face of bristled Cat fur, and swept Harper toward the nearest changing room.

The wedding gown Harper had ordered the week before and had rushed here at great expense looked worth every single penny. Since we were less than two weeks away from the big day now, we had our fingers crossed it would fit well enough to only need minor alterations. My thoughts were so what a
real
wedding planner would think and so far from what
I
would normally think that I couldn’t help shaking my head and smiling. Obviously, Trinity’s enthusiasm for undercover work was rubbing off on me. I was really losing myself in this role and, unexpectedly, enjoying myself more than anticipated.

My gaze fell upon Victor across the room. He and
Sierra
had been spending an
awful lot
of time together lately—when Scott had been preoccupied with a high-maintenance client of his and I couldn’t find the heart to turn Victor down. I’d open my mouth to say “No” and he’d touch my hand and somehow I’d find myself saying “Yes” instead. All part of my carefully crafted cover story, I told myself.
Suuuuure it was.

Harper gave me a grateful look as I rushed her away from her bickering mother and aunts. She tucked an arm in mine, all but scurrying along beside me when her relatives burst into furious Spanish again. Either they’d forgotten I could understand every word they said, or they simply didn’t care who heard them arguing in their language of choice. Once Harper and I stepped into the oversized closet of a room and closed the door, she collapsed into a cushioned chair. I gave her a sympathetic look. “That bad?”

She gave a huffy breath. “Worse. I would
so
prefer to elope, but both our families would disown us for sure. Especially considering the hot water we’re already in for ‘marrying beneath’ ourselves and ‘sleeping with the enemy.’ If I have to listen to that selfish cow bitch about midnight blue making her skin look bad
one more time
, I just might say
to hell with it
after all and ride off into the Hawaiian sunset with Penn. Alone. Blissfully, blessedly, alone.” Her eyes took on a dreamy cast. “Mmm, Hawaii. Can’t wait to see those gorgeous sunsets Mahina told me about. That’s the only thing getting me through this nightmare.”

“Take me with you?” I quipped.

She smirked. “Not on your life. It’s gonna be just Penn, me, and the heavenly beachfront property he’s rented for the honeymoon. One of the few benefits to marrying a Banoub.” She let out another huff. “Bast knows I need to focus on the upsides right now because the downsides more than outweigh them.”

“That what your aunts bitching about?”

“Them, my mother, my uncles, just about anybody with the slightest claim of blood or affection to me. I’ve heard countless reasons why I shouldn’t be marrying one of
them
from dozens of people who know nothing about
him
. Or how freaking amazing he makes me feel. The way everyone’s carrying on, you’d think we’re some modern-day Bonnie and Clyde committing the crime of the century getting married. That we’re vowing to
burn, pillage, and plunder
rather than
love, honor, and cherish
. ” She shook her head. “I envy you and Mutt.”

I blinked. “
You
envy
us
? ”

“Hell yeah. Things are a
lot
less complicated for you two. Your family and his haven’t been sworn enemies for the past few thousand years. If you post an engagement announcement in the papers, death threats aren’t going to pour in like crazy. I can tell how much you love each other, and nobody thinks less of either of you for that. You don’t have to keep secrets from each other, either. You’re like open books in your relationship.”

“Yeah, sure, open books.” Hopefully my voice didn’t sound as unconvincing as my inner thoughts did. I considered her words and realized that, in some ways, she was right. Scott and I were lucky that our arcane races hadn’t been at brutal odds for thousands of years. Contrasting that to Harper and Penn, our relationship
did
seem uncomplicated: until you threw in not-so-little considerations like my worsening knee, growing dependence on alcohol to get through the days, and my continued failure to find Scott’s missing brother . . .

For a moment, I found myself envying
her
. Then thoughts of the serial killer preying upon her ex-lovers crossed my mind, and I winced.

I turned my attention back to the uncomplicated task at hand: adjusting the folds of Harper’s ivory gown so we could open the door for the big reveal of the bride in all her glory. And glorious she truly looked. The bell-capped, corseted bodice hugged her curves in all the right places, and intricate beadwork grew progressively heavier from the top of the gown as it worked down to the cinched-in waistline. The A-line skirt of the gown, in contrast, was starkly simplistic for the most part, with just a light dusting of beadwork along the gown’s short train.

Harper stared at herself in the mirror, mouth falling open and tears glittering in her eyes. She truly
was
a breathtaking bride.

My voice sounded suspiciously husky when I spoke again. “Forget about everything else for this one moment, Harp. What’s important is that you and Penn love each other and are pledging that love in front of all the gods and goddesses.” A few tears leaked out and trailed down her cheeks, sparkling in the bright overhead lights like diamonds setting off her beauty. “And damn, you look so freaking amazing; you are going to make that selfish cow seem so sallow in comparison she’ll bitch about the wedding pictures for decades to come!”

That had Harper bursting into laughter, reaching back, and catching my hand in her own. She squeezed. “Thanks, Riss. I know we got off to a shaky start and we haven’t been friends that long, but everything you’re doing for me really means a lot. I’m not sure how I can ever thank you properly.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Without your help, I never would have tracked down Vanessa in time to say good-bye and save Olivia.” And dammit, now she had tears pricking at
my
eyes.

She smiled slightly. “True, but working on
that
investigation was a lot less sucktastic for me than this one is for you. I’m not sure I could handle my family if I wasn’t related to them by blood, and as for Penn’s family . . . ” Her voice trailed off, and she gave an exaggerated shudder. One I wholeheartedly wanted to echo.

“Come on now, let’s show you off. You’re gonna knock their socks off.”

And hopefully afterward, over lunch, Vic could help me fit enough pieces together that I could knock the socks off the Cat killer—permanently.

“WELL, CHIEF, YOU
SURE
HAVE EXPENSIVE tastes!” Cass’s voice quipped in my ear as he got a bird’s-eye view of my surroundings through the ever-present—and fake—brooch pinned to the lapel of my designer jacket.

He
did
have a point; although, more accurately,
Sierra
was the one who had chosen the upscale Italian restaurant in which to allow Victor to wine and dine her. Me. Whatever. Had my cover been a mortal planner for the rich and famous, I’d have been stuck munching on the rabbit food required to maintain my svelte disguise, but fortunately for me she was a Hound. Meaning plenty of cheesy pasta, garlic bread, and all the cannoli I could eat!

Victor smiled across the candlelit table, forking up a good portion of that cheesy pasta from his plate. “I have to say your impeccable taste continues to impress me. You’ve just introduced me to my new favorite
ristorante
. ”

I gave a careless shrug. “It’s hard to find a
bad
restaurant in the North End, but Rigazzi’s is certainly among the best. Though in the interests of full disclosure, I
am
related to one of the chefs by marriage, so I got the inside scoop before I moved here.”

“And what
did
bring a successful event planner all the way from La-La Land to humble Boston, Mass. ? ”

“What usually causes someone to completely uproot themselves and trek across the country?” My shrug this time was fatalistic.
“Love.”
I gave a sour spin to the word.

He clenched his fingers around the fork. “You have a boyfriend already? I’m crushed.”

“
Had
a boyfriend. Until I came across him indulging in a little—shall we say—coed naked filing with his trampy little secretary. A
mortal
, no less, and
such
a cliché.”

Victor shook his head, sympathy followed by outrage on my behalf washing across his face. “What a
pendejo
. To cheat on someone so alluring with a lowly subordinate.” Sadness replaced outrage, and he touched his glass with a wistful expression. “I lost someone very precious to me not that long ago. I would give anything to have Sylvia back now. That your man did not feel the same means the
pendejo
did not deserve you,
querida
. ”

I stared down at my pasta plate, allowing vulnerability to leech into my voice. “You’re right, he didn’t. And
I
didn’t deserve to give up so much only to lose it because of him. They say that living a good life is the best revenge, and I agree. So I busted my butt to establish an illustrious clientele here while still consulting for my Hollywood patrons on the other coast.” A tight, pleased smile passed my lips. “And the
pendejo
mysteriously lost a good third of
his
illustrious clientele from
both
coasts.”

He gave an appreciative chuckle, then raised his wineglass toward me. “A woman after my own heart. Another appropriate mortal saying in regards to vengeance is that it’s a dish best served cold. Here’s to cold dishes and living a good life.” I clinked his glass with my own, and we grinned at each other.

“So. Tell me more about yourself, Victor. All I know other than the fact you’re very charming is that you act as an expert witness in the medical field.”

“I’m sure you’ll find it as painfully boring as everyone else does, but I’m a nonpracticing MD involved in research and development on a consultant basis. As you mentioned, I fill my résumé out by serving as an expert witness in malpractice lawsuits.”

“That doesn’t sound at all boring. Though what exactly is your field of expertise?”

“I focus on the pharmaceutical end of the industry.” My breath caught in my throat, and I leaned forward. Could he be an expert in blending mundane plants with arcane—like a heretofore unknown brand of magical catnip? “Mostly developing artificial drugs meant for the treatment of serious diseases such as AIDS, cancer, and diabetes. Did you know that arcanes are over sixty-five percent more likely than mundanes to develop diabetes later in their lives? Many believe that’s because here in the mortal realms, arcanes are eating diets that are even worse for them than mortals, and the need for drugs to effectively treat diabetic arcanes is growing.”

He gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Told you it was excruciatingly dull.” Cass made snoring sounds in the headset, and I had to bite my lips. Vic must have seen them twitching because he touched my hand with his. “You have a lovely smile, Sierra. One of the things that most attracts me to you.” His dark eyes smoldered, and my skin physically tingled where he touched it. It was strange how physically attracted I felt to him, even when I knew without question that my heart belonged to a certain Warhound.

Scott joined in with his two cents. “I don’t know
how
he gets any play with those tired old lines of his. But much as it pains me to admit, it’s highly doubtful he’s our guy.”

Frustrating that I couldn’t ask it myself, but Cass took pity on me. “Why not?”