Proof of Life (The Potentate of Atlanta #4) - Hailey Edwards Page 0,51
of notes splayed around her. Lethe sat on the floor near her with a greasy bag on her lap, and crumpled burger and fry wrappers littered the floor.
So much for leftovers. All the food Ford brought was gone. Even, and it hurt to see it, my apple pie.
“Good thing we brought food,” I muttered to Midas. “I hope there’s enough.”
“Not my fault your hostess skills are rusty.” Lethe stuck a fry in her mouth. “I was starving to death.”
Grier nudged Lethe in the shoulder with her bare foot. “No, you were not.”
“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Lethe flung a second fry at Grier’s head. “Traitor.”
Grier caught the fry and wrinkled her nose. “Do you want this back?”
“Yes.” Lethe held out her hand. “Duh.”
“We brought pizza.” Midas held the boxes high. “You don’t have to fight over cold fries.”
“But I like cold fries.” Lethe polished off the remaining ones to prove her point. “Hot pizza works too.”
“The wake plans are done.” Grier shuffled her papers. “I waited to finalize the bookings in case you wanted to take a look first.”
“I trust you.” I twisted the clunky ring that had somehow made its way back onto my finger. “You know them almost as well as I do.”
“We settled on a rustic steakhouse owned by a former colleague of Linus’s,” she continued, ignoring my use of present tense, “a professor from Strophalos University.” She flashed me a photo on her phone. “He’s Society, and he’s excited about renting it out. He even volunteered to help in exchange for an introduction. Apparently, he’s a big fan of yours. He mentioned a fight with a chupacabra?” Her eyebrows rose. “The catch is, we pay all damages.”
That was the purpose of insurance, his and ours, and we both knew it. The OPA was liable for any damage caused by its agents. His butt was covered either way. What she had agreed to pay was a hefty bribe, a premium I would reimburse. Not that I blamed the guy for being greedy when his business had a wrecking ball aimed at it.
“He was very concerned for his employees,” she said with a snort. “So very concerned he felt the volunteers for our event ought to receive hazard pay. With an administration fee tacked on, of course.”
“Goddess what a headache.” I rubbed my forehead in sympathy. “Thanks for making the arrangements.”
“Catch me up to speed.” Lethe cleaned up her mess, tossed it in the trash, then got a drink. “You ditched your sisterly duties and then what?”
“Lethe,” Grier warned her in a low voice. “I volunteered to handle it.”
“That’s because you’re a sucker.” She cut her gaze toward me. “Well?” She waited. “Impress me.”
“Hadley doesn’t owe you an explanation.” Midas stepped up to Lethe. “You need to watch your tone.”
“Baby brother, she hasn’t heard my tone yet.” She honed her glower on him. “Neither have you.”
“As hard as it is for you to believe,” he said, sounding tired, “this isn’t about you.”
“This is about Amelie—I mean, Hadley—doing what she always does.”
Lips gone numb, I still asked, I was curious. “And what is that?”
“You stir up a shitstorm and then duck before any of the muck splatters you.”
“You didn’t like Boaz.” Midas stepped closer to her. “You barely knew Addie. Why do you care?”
“You know who else gets splattered when this happens?” Lethe jerked her chin toward Grier. “Who always gets splattered around Hadley?”
The urge to defend myself never manifested, and I didn’t look too hard at why. “You’re right.”
“No.” Grier squared off with Lethe. “She means well, but she’s wrong.”
A growl poured out of Lethe’s mouth, and her hands curled into fists down at her sides.
“You’re my best friend,” Grier said quietly. “I get you want to protect me, but Hadley isn’t an enemy. She made mistakes. Guess what? We all have. None of us have clean hands. There’s blood on all of ours. The life she’s carved out for herself here impresses the heck out of me, and I won’t let you diminish it in my name.” She shot her friend a knowing glance. “If you’ve got a beef with Midas, take it up with him. Don’t take it out on her.”
“Fine.” A snarl curled her lip as she stared down Midas. “Let’s take this outside.”
Guilt hit me hard that I had come between Midas and Lethe. “Your problem is with me.”
“Pin a rose on your nose,” Lethe sneered, shrugging off Grier’s attempts to rein her in.