Page 6 of Barristers & Bones

I needed to vent like a junkie needing their next fix.

Sylvie: Yes, with a pitcher of beer

Me: I’m in. I need a tequila shot too

Alexa:Luigi’sin an hour. First one there orders

“How was your day, huh?” I scratched behind his ears, and he purred loudly. It sounded like screeching metal, but it always made me smile. “Better than mine, I bet.”

After cleaning up and giving Carl his dinner, I walked the few blocks to Luigi's. The little Italian restaurant in our neighborhood had been around almost as long as the mortuary.

When I walked in, the scent of garlic and pizza crust greeted me. The restaurant had a scarred wood floor, tables covered in red-checked tablecloths, and dark red jar candles next to the parmesan shakers. Café lights and ancient Italian opera posters hung on the walls.

Alexa Torres waved me over to our usual booth. She rarely smiled and was the more thoughtful, quiet one of the three of us.

Except for our skin tone, we could have passed for sisters. I also had brown hair, but my eyes were green, and I’d inherited my mother’s average build and perky nose.

“What happened?” she asked, pushing a pink-striped birthday bag over to me. She knew I hated my birthday. It was like torture every year when it came around, which explained the tequila shots last night and the hangover this morning.

“You shouldn’t have.”

She smirked at my sincere tone. “It’s nothing big. Open it.”

I pulled out the tissue paper and looked inside. The bag was stuffed full of cinnamon-flavored candies. When I was younger, Ezra worried my craving for cinnamon candy signaled a magnesium or calcium deficiency in my diet.

Grinning, I pulled out a cinnamon sucker, unwrapped it, and shoved it in my mouth. “Thanks. This is a perfect gift.”

“So? How’d it go with your internship?”

A pitcher of beer and a few tequila shots sat at our table. I pulled out the sucker and picked up a shot, throwing it back without glancing at the lime wedges or salt shaker.

Grimacing, I wiped my lips with the back of my hand and stuck the sucker back in. “So much worse than I expected.”

She leaned forward. “Tell me.”

“I only want to repeat my sad, sorry tale once. When Sylvie gets here, I’ll tell you everything.”

Alexa poured us beers and sat back. “You look frustrated. Is it that bad?”

“Yeah, it is. I want to rip Klim Hudson’s head off, then Roman Fowler’s dick.”

Sylvie walked in and slid into the seat next to Alexa. Sophia, our usual server, followed behind her, bringing out the loaded pizza. “Hey, ladies. Is funeral parlor poker brunch still on for Sunday?”

Sylvie grabbed a slice and bypassed her plate for her mouth. “Absolutely. If you get a break, come sit with us.” Sophia nodded and strode off. The hot, steamy sixteen-inch half-vegetarian, half-meat lover’s pizza smelled divine. Sylvie liked meat, Alexa was a vegetarian, and I didn’t care, so I took the two pieces that touched both sides.

“I forgot to give you this yesterday–that’s what half a bottle of tequila will do. Pretend I’m the Mad Hatter wishing you a merry unbirthday.” Sylvie slid a card over to me.

“Thanks.” I picked up the card and opened it–then snorted. It read “Happy Kindergarten Graduation to my Sweet Nephew” in big, colorful block letters. The Spade family had an odd tradition of giving each other the strangest, least appropriate cards for each other’s birthdays. Fennick Spade, my foster cousin, gave me a Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day card a few years ago for my birthday. I’d looked it up and found out it was a real day.

Sylvie had included a gift card to my favorite bookstore in town. I sighed and leaned over the table to hug them both. “Thanks. You guys know me well. Now, let’s eat.”

Taking a big bite, Alexa nudged my foot under the table. “She’s here. Spill.”

So I told them, and when I finished, I pointed at another shot of tequila. “Can I have that?”

Both women nodded as they eyed me sympathetically.

“Can they do that?” Sylvie asked as she picked up another slice.

---