Page 114 of Ruby Malice

But the moment I move into the doorway, it all goes quiet.

The men stop talking. My sisters do, too. Even the air conditioning hum feels like it takes a breath. Lana meets my eyes for only a second before she looks away, suddenly very interested in the grain of the kitchen table.

Oy vey.It’s going to be a long night.

“Hi.” I give a small wave. “I heard there’d be some dinner.”

“Free food is the main reason Rayne makes her way over here,” Lana mutters not-so-subtly to Alexis.

“She spends her day serving other people. I think it’s right that when she’s off, other people serve her.” Alexis pats the chair next to her. “Sit, oh sister dearest. Let’s feast.”

I slide into the seat and reach for a dinner roll. “I don’tservepeople. I just clean.”

“Is there a difference?” Dustan asks with a grimace.

The man is incapable of a genuine smile. The night Mom first met him, she thought our house smelled because his upper lip was curled all evening. But it’s just his face. I’ve mostly gotten used to it.

“‘Serve’ implies I’m a servant, I guess.” I shrug. “I get paid. Really well, actually. It’s good work.”

“I have a hard enough time when clients try to tell me how to invest their money,” Mitchell says. “If they were asking me to wash their underwear, I’d lose my shit.”

“If you’re the one who has to clean their underwear, you better hope they don’t lose their shit,” Dustan retorts.

Everyone laughs, and after a few seconds, I laugh, too. If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. Or, I dunno, something like that.

“Dig in, everyone,” Lana says, gesturing to the loaded table. “Mitchell got the steaks from a local butcher.”

“They should be medium rare. Except for Alexis, who requested jerky.” Mitchell winks at her.

Alexis rolls her eyes. “Ha-ha. Just because I don’t like to eat my meat while it’s still mooing at me doesn’t mean it’s jerky.”

The conversation meanders on from there. Mitchell asks how their flights were, and Alexis and Dustan take turns talking about the sleeping old man in the lounge who they would have sworn was dead.

“I’ve never seen someone sleep so soundly in public in my life,” Dustan says. “I was about to stick a mirror under his nose.”

Then Alexis and Lana start planning out the next two days.

“Tomorrow, I’m thinking we do manicures and then brunch at that place you took me to last time,” Alexis says. “The one with the bottomless mimosas.”

“Better take my bottomless wallet with you,” Mitchell mumbles.

Lana waves him off. “It’s expensive because it’s worth it. Don’t be a grinch.”

“And I’ll pay my own way, obviously,” Alexis says. “I don’t need any free food.”

I’m not sure if she meant it as a jab to me, but the way the conversation stumbles for a second lets me know that everyone thought of me. I lean into it and clear my throat. “Well, you won’t have to worry about me mooching. I have to work tomorrow.”

Alexis turns to me with a pout. Strangely, when she makes that face, she looks like Mom. They share a pointed chin and big, round eyes, though Alexis has brown eyes like Dad. Lana and I are the ones who inherited our mother’s baby blues.

“You can’t take the day off?” she protests. “Even to spend it with your sister?”

“Sorry. I thought you were coming into town in two days, so I didn’t ask for tomorrow off.”

“Play hooky,” she suggests. “Call in sick. I’ll pay for everything. But the three of us should be together.”

I imagine calling Kirill and pretending to be sick—or even Sonya, for that matter. Both of them would see right through my lies. Considering Kirill came dangerously close to firing me today, I don’t think I should test my luck.

“I’d love to, but I really—”

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