Part 3 (1/2)
”Ah,” I said. ”Cold feet?”
Billy took a deep breath. ”Well, it's a big step, isn't it?” He shook his head. ”And after next year, most of the Alphas are going to be done with school. Getting jobs.” He paused. ”Splitting up.”
”And that's where you met Georgia,” I said.
”Yeah.” He shook his head again. ”What if we don't have anything else in common? I mean, good grief. Have you seen her family's place? And I'm going to be in debt for seven or eight years just paying off the student loans. How do you know if you're ready to get married?”
Yanof stood up, gestured at my pants, and said something that sounded like, ”Hahklha ah lafala krepata khem.”
”I'm not seeing people right now,” I told him as I took off the pants and pa.s.sed them over. ”Or else you'd have a shot, you charmer.”
Yanof sniffed, muttered something else, and toddled back into the shop.
”Billy,” I said, ”you think Georgia would have fought that thing last night?”
”Yes,” he said without a second's hesitation.
”She going to be upset that you did it?”
”No.”
”Even though some folks got hurt?”
He blinked at me. ”No.”
”How do you know?” I asked.
”Because”-he shook his head-”because she won't. I know her. Upset by the injuries, yes, but not by the fight.” He s.h.i.+fted to a tone he probably didn't realize was an imitation of Georgia's voice. ”People get hurt in fights. That's why they're called fights.”
”You know her well enough to answer serious questions for her when she isn't even in the room, man,” I said quietly. ”You're ready. Keep the big picture in mind. You and her.”
He looked at me for a second and then said, ”I thought you'd say something about love.”
I sighed. ”Billy. You k.n.o.b. If you didn't love her, you wouldn't be stressed about losing what you have with her, would you.”
”Good point,” he said.
”Remember the important thing. You and her.”
He took a deep breath and let it out. ”Yeah,” he said. ”Georgia and me. The rest doesn't matter.”
I was going to mumble something vaguely supportive, when the door to the fitting room opened and an absolutely ravis.h.i.+ng raven-haired woman in an expensive lavender silk skirt-suit came in. She might have been my age, and she had a lot of gold and diamonds, a lot of perfect white teeth, and the kind of curves that come only from surgery. Her shoes and purse together probably cost more than my car.
”Well,” she snapped, and put a fist on her hip, glaring first at Billy and then at me. ”I see you are already doing your best to disrupt the ceremony.”
”Eve,” Billy said in a kind of stilted, formally polite voice. ”Um. What are you talking about?”
”For one thing, this,” she said, flicking a hand at me. Then she gave me a second, more evaluative look.
I tried to look casual and confident, there in my Spider-Man T-s.h.i.+rt and black briefs. I managed to keep myself from diving toward my jeans. I turned aside to put them on, maintaining my dignity.
”Your underwear has a hole,” Eve said sweetly.
I jerked my jeans on, blus.h.i.+ng. Stupid dignity.
”Bad enough that you insist on this . . . petty criminal taking part in a ceremony before polite society. Yanof is beside himself,” Eve continued, speaking to Billy. ”He threatened to quit.”
”Wow,” I said. ”You speak Sloboviakstanese?”
She blinked at me. ”What?”
”Because Yanof doesn't speak any English. So how did you know he threatened to quit?” I smiled sweetly at her.
Eve gave me a glare of haughty anger and defended herself by pretending I hadn't said anything. ”And now we're going to have to leave out one of the bridesmaids. To say nothing of the fact that with him him standing up there on one side of you and Georgia on the other, you're going to look like a midget. The photographer will have to be notified, and I have no idea how we'll manage to rearrange everything at the last moment.” standing up there on one side of you and Georgia on the other, you're going to look like a midget. The photographer will have to be notified, and I have no idea how we'll manage to rearrange everything at the last moment.”
I swore I could hear Billy's teeth grind. ”Harry,” he said in that same polite, strained voice, ”this is Eve McAlister. My stepmother-in-law.”
”I do not care for that term, as I have told you often. I am your mother-in-law,” she said. ”Or will be, whenever this ongoing disaster you've created from a respectable wedding breathes its last.”
”I'm sure we can work something out,” Billy a.s.sured her, his tone hopeless.
”Georgia is late and is letting the voice mail answer her phone-as though I needed something else to occupy my thoughts.” She shook her head. ”I a.s.sume the lowlifes you introduced her to kept her out too late last night. Just like this one did to you.”
”Hey, come on,” I said, careful to keep my tone as reasonable and friendly as I could. ”Billy's had a rough night. I'm sure he can help you out if you just give him a chance to-”
She made a disgusted sound and interrupted me. ”Did I say or do something to imply that I cared to hear your opinion, charlatan? Lowlifes. I warned her about folk like you.”
”You don't even know me, lady,” I said.
”Yes, I do,” she informed me. ”I know all about you. I saw you on Larry Fowler. Larry Fowler.”
I narrowed my eyes at Eve.
Billy's expression came close to panic, and he held up both hands, palms out, giving me a pleading look. But my hangover ached, and life is too short to waste it taking verbal abuse from petty tyrants who watch bad talk shows.
”Okay, Billy's stepmom,” I began.
Her eyes flashed. ”Do not not call me that.” call me that.”
”You don't care to be called a stepmother?” I asked.
”Not at all.”
”Though you obviously aren't Georgia's mother. Howsabout I call you trophy wife?” I suggested.
She blinked at me once, her eyes widening.
Billy put his face in his hands.
”Bed warmer?” I mused. ”Mistress made good? Midlife crisis byproduct?” I shook my head. ”When in doubt, go with the cla.s.sics.” I leaned a little closer and gave her a crocodilian smile. ”Gold digger ”Gold digger.”