“That is two questions.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “They’re related—I wouldn’t have asked if you weren’t so stingy with the details. And I’ll warn you now that turnabout is fair play,” she adds loftily. “If you want good answers to the questions you ask, you should do the same for me.”
My jaw ticks. She is correct, and her question is innocuous enough. “Yes, my father. We played often when I was a boy until he died.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” she says, sounding very sincere. “I’m a member of the dead dads club, too.”
“Why would you join a club for something so morose?”
Her laugh is more of an exhale through the nose and a hum of amusement. “It’s not really a club; it’s more like a thing people say… a way to express understanding. Everyone’s trauma around a parent dying is different, but there’s a certain bond you have with others just by living through the experience.”
I feel my brows lift, and she notes my surprise with confusion. “What?”
“That was a very good explanation,” I offer, thinking of how others often react to the language barrier with poorly concealed condescension. “I understand your meaning and do not feel as if you spoke down to me.”
“You mean I didn’t talk down to you?”
I scoff. “That is what I said. It is a ridiculous saying anyway. Who could talk down to me? I am too tall.”
“That’s a good point.” She rolls her lips inward to hide a smile. “Your turn, I think.”
Oh, yes. The game. I reach down and move another pawn. We go back and forth, expanding into the middle of the board for a few turns, and I take the next piece.
“Why were you at the wedding?”
Her eyes stay locked on the board as she answers. “I think I told you that Jenny’s a distant cousin. I was honestly surprised when she asked me to be in the wedding. I guess her friend had to have surgery, and she ran out of other options.”
So, it is not a close family tie—this is likely why she was attacked. If Kyle had tried to assault someone more important to the bride, he would have faced terrible repercussions. But not with Nicole. He thought she would be without the extendedBratvaprotection. She was alone and vulnerable, and not one of the powerful, rich guests.
I place the piece in my hand on the edge of the table so I will not damage it in the fist that forms. “And Kyle was your date? Did you know him well?”
A shake of her head brings her hair into her face. “Met him at the rehearsal dinner. Wasn’t impressed.”
This pleases me, despite how much more difficult it makes it to discover details about him and his potential connection to Felix. “Your turn.”
We continue moving pieces. I take the next. “Why were you in the garden when we met?”
“I told you then. I was avoiding Kyle. He’d…” she trails off, searching for the description she wants, and I study her as she does. Does she search for a lie or a euphemism? “He’d somehow managed to hit on me and make me feel terrible about myself at the same time. Though… I guess he wasn’t really hitting on me, he was trying to…” She trails off, swallows thickly, and shakes her head. “I was just getting air and running from confrontation.”
Before I can ask a follow-up, she takes a piece of mine and smiles at me. “Why wereyouin the garden when we met?”
“I was also running from confrontation.”
“What happened?”
“That is a bigger question,” I say, shaking my head. “You must earn it by taking another piece.”
She huffs a frustrated sigh, then repeats the question when she is next to take a piece. I glance at the board for a moment, ensuring that my plan is still valid despite her somewhat erratic playing style.
“You noticed the guards and security?”
She nods.
“They noticed me, too,” I say. The line between her brows deepens at that, and I hold a hand up in a conciliatory gesture. She clearly will not suffer incomplete answers. “I was being followed.”
“Why? Wait, let me guess. That’s a bigger question.”
I lift a brow, and she grins.