Diana Rowland - Even White Trash Zombies Get the Blues

“Angel, you look great. Please stop worrying.”

I gave up on my makeup and settled for wiping away smudges. “Yeah, whatever,” I muttered, unable to hide my anger and hurt. “I guess I’m pretty much screwed now anyway.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then shook his head and closed it. I started to get out of the truck but he reached out and caught my arm in a gentle grip. “I’m sorry.”

I responded with a sour glare. He sighed and released me, but I didn’t make another move to get out.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I was trying to protect you…keep you from getting uptight—”

“Uptight?”

He winced and lifted his hands in surrender. “Wrong word. Um, nervous, ill at ease.” He groaned and ran his hands through his hair. “Shit, Angel. I guess I was hoping that if I could avoid telling you about my parents maybe being here, that by the time we got here and you saw them you wouldn’t have time to get upset.” He exhaled. “It was a dumb, dumb plan. I’m sorry. Will you please go in with me?”

A weird feeling of betrayal swam through me, and I had to fight for several seconds to get past it. “Don’t ever do that to me again, okay?” I finally said. “I don’t like surprises, let alone being blindsided.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

He looked so damn forlorn and upset that I had to sigh. “Fine. Let’s go meet your family.”

I tugged my sweater down and my jeans up as we walked up to the house. For the first time in my life I was glad that I had hardly any boobs at all. At least I could maybe get by with just “skanky” instead of “skanky whore.”

“Wait,” I said. “Do your parents know about me?”

He gave a noncommittal shrug. “I might have mentioned you to them earlier this week.”

“Great,” I muttered. What sort of image would I have to live up to?

Marcus gave my hand a reassuring squeeze as we followed a path of granite paving stones around to the back yard. A hum of conversation and low music greeted us as we passed through a heavy iron gate. I plastered a smile on my face and hoped that I looked more friendly than manic. At first I didn’t think there were as many people as I’d originally suspected. It certainly didn’t seem crowded. But then it sank in just how enormous the back yard was. Easily bigger than the house and front yard and driveway combined, though it was broken up into sections which disguised how huge it was, somewhat. Whoever had designed the landscaping had interspersed hedges, garden plots, and fountains to form areas for people to wander, or sit and talk with at least the illusion of privacy. I counted three gazebos, two koi ponds, and half a dozen outdoor heaters—useful since there was a bit of a nip in the air. Oh, and at least forty people.

A “couple of people” my ass , I silently grumbled. There were a few faces I thought I recognized, and I had another rude jolt when I realized it was because they were politicians. A couple were clearly local, such as the Sheriff and the mayor of Tucker Point. But I was almost positive one of the men was a U.S Senator. He’d been involved in a sex scandal a few years back, and his picture had been all over the news.

Pietro is rich as hell and has a ton of connections and influence. Yeah, no reason at all to be nervous.

I didn’t have long to wait before the frenzy of attention started. Well, frenzy wasn’t really the best word, though I definitely felt like a tasty juicy fishy in a school of sharks. Did sharks have schools? Or was it some other word? Well, whatever it was, I was certainly getting sized up. Every person in the backyard seemed to be giving me the Who the hell is that? eye.

Marcus gave everyone he saw nods and smiles and kept a firm grip on my hand as he steered me toward a couple seated in one of the gazebos. They looked up as we approached, and it was clear from the delight on their faces that these were his parents. One look at Marcus was enough to confirm it. He looked like the perfect combination of them both. He’d gotten his height, build, and rugged good looks from his dad—a seriously handsome man, with brown-hair, blue-grey eyes, and a friendly, easy smile. If I was into older men I’d have been drooling over Marcus’s dad.

And, for that matter, if I was into older women I’d have done the same for his mom. Marcus’s dark hair and eyes had clearly come from her, a curvaceous woman who was nothing short of stunning. She had to have been in her fifties, but she carried her years with effortless ease.

Marcus greeted them with smiles and hugs, then he pulled me forward. “Angel, these are my folks, Nathan and Morena.”

His mom gave me a warm smile. “So nice to meet you, Angel! Marcus has told us a bit about you.”

I wanted to give Marcus a panicked What the fuck have you told them? look, but I managed to resist the urge. I didn’t think he’d regale them with stories about my former drug addiction, my felony record, my alcoholic dad…so what the hell did that leave? My sparkling personality?

I managed to keep my own smile in place. “Nice to meet you, too.” There, that was safe enough, right? God, I sucked at this.

“Marcus says he met you at work,” his dad said. “Are you a cop also?”

“She works for the coroner’s office,” Marcus explained, saving me from hysterical laughter. “We get to see each other over dead bodies.” He grinned. “Romantic, right?”

His mom chuckled. “Sounds like you’re pretty tough,” she said with a wink.

“Um, I dunno about that,” I said. “More likely I’m just sick in the head,” I added, then instantly regretted it. Nice , I thought with an inward cringe. Just come right out and tell them that their boy is dating a whacko.

But the Ivanovs seemed to have a generous sense of humor. “Then you’re probably perfect for Marcus!” his dad announced.

We sat with them for a short while, making light conversation. I expected to remain a nervous wreck but his folks were so damn nice and genuine that it was impossible not to relax and simply enjoy myself for a few minutes.

Marcus glanced at his watch. “I hate to ditch you,” he told his parents, “but I think it’s time for me to hunt down Uncle Pietro.”

His mother gave Marcus a light kiss on the cheek. “We’re going to be heading back to Lafayette soon. You’re still coming this weekend?”

He smiled and gave her a hug. “Absolutely.”

“It was lovely meeting you, Angel,” his mom said to me with such warmth that I was pretty sure she actually meant it and wasn’t just saying it to be polite.

“You too,” I said, meaning it as well.

Marcus gave my hand a gentle tug, and we headed toward the house. “Your parents seem real nice,” I said.

He smiled. “They rock. I’m damn lucky.”

We entered the back door of the house and passed into a kitchen so large that I wondered if whoever cooked for Pietro ever got tired simply walking from one end of the room to the other. I was used to fancy houses so I managed not to gawk too much. After all, rich people died just as often as poor people. But Pietro clearly had a lot of money. Everything was oak and marble. Everything. I couldn’t even figure out where the fridge was.

Marcus turned to me. “Would you mind waiting here for just a minute while I hunt down my uncle?”

I minded a lot since the last thing I wanted in the world was to be abandoned in the middle of someone else’s house where I knew pretty much no one, but I wasn’t about to admit that. “Nah, that’s fine. I’m a big girl.” I even flashed him a wide smile so that he’d believe it.

And apparently he did, damn it. With a parting kiss he was off, leaving me to fidget and pray that I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone before he came back.