Jagged (Colorado Mountain #5)(46)

My aunt turned her venomous eyes to Nina. “I have a few words to say to my niece.”

Nina didn’t even blink but her back went straight.

She’d never met them but I’d told her. She knew all about my family.

“So write them down on nice notepaper and use our trusty postal service to deliver them,” Nina retorted.

“Oh f**k,” Max muttered, getting close and curling an arm around his wife’s waist.

“Nice language,” Aunt Dahlia snapped.

Max looked at her a moment, then, weirdly, grinned.

“Excuse me!” Nina hissed. “That’s my husband you’re talking to.”

“He has a foul mouth,” Aunt Dahlia returned.

“Better that than foul manners,” Nina shot back.

This was semiamusing but mostly scary and it got scarier when Ham slid out of the booth, got close to Aunt Dahlia, looked down at her, his scary-scarier-scariest face unamused and entirely pissed-off, and he rumbled menacingly, “I said, walk… the f**k…away.”

“Is there a problem here?”

Oh hell.

That was Greg.

“You,” Aunt Dahlia sneered at my ex-husband. “I know who you are. Her one shot at respectability and you scrape her off? What, did she cheat on you?”

Greg ignored her, looked to me, and asked, “Are you all right?”

“This is my Aunt Dahlia,” I stated as answer.

“I know. You pointed her out at the festival three years ago,” Greg replied.

“So, obviously, no. I’m not all right, seeing as I’m choking on Cinders-infected air,” I returned.

Greg looked at Aunt Dahlia. “You need to leave.”

“I already told her that,” Ham growled.

Greg ignored Ham like he didn’t exist and said to Aunt Dahlia, “I’ll ask the manager to have you removed.”

“Since I dine here once a month, I doubt he’ll choose removing me over removing the lot of you.” She twirled her finger in the air to indicate us all.

“Do you think,” Nina started and I looked at her to see her looking at Max, “that this is normal? I mean, does this kind of thing happen to other people in the world? I really want to know.”

Max smiled at his wife.

I looked back at Aunt Dahlia to see, scarily, she was looking at me. “You need to phone your father.”

“No, she doesn’t.”

This was said by Kami Maxwell.

I leaned forward and plonked my forehead on the table.

“Kami,” Max said in a warning tone. “Stay out of it.”

“The staff is excellent when they’re serving food,” Nina remarked irritably. “They disappear during drama. Where are they? I really want to know.”

“Don’t you call your father, Zara,” Kami ordered.

I lifted my forehead off the table and aimed my eyes at Max’s sister, a pleasantly plump, female rendition of her brother, which was to say she had great eyes, fantastic dark, wavy hair, and very attractive features.

“That’s not a worry, honey. I’ve conditioned my body to spontaneously combust if I get six digits in,” I told her.

“I don’t find you amusing,” Aunt Dahlia snapped.

“I don’t give a shit,” I shot back.

“Excuse me.” Greg had hold of the arm of one of the waiters. “Can you please send the manager over here?”

“Of course,” she muttered before she quickly scurried away.

“You’re a mean old bitch,” Kami said to my aunt, “and I’ve been bein’ nice for a real long time.”

Nina’s eyes cut to me and got huge, eloquent indication that I agreed with that Kami’s brand of “bein’ nice” was not agreed on by all.

Kami kept talking.

“And these boys here won’t want to get in a smackdown with a nasty old woman. But not me. I got no problem doin’ that. So if you don’t walk away, I’ve got enough bitch stored up, I’m aimin’ it all at you, startin’ with throwin’ Nina’s drink in your face.”

At this, Nina slid her drink out of reach.

“Then,” Kami went on, “if you, that snake of a brother of yours, or his sniveling wife get anywhere near Zara, phone her, or attempt to get in touch with her in any way, I’m unleashing all holy hell on all your asses until you beg for forgiveness or move to another state.”

“Is there a problem here?” A mild-mannered-looking suited man I suspected was the manager entered the situation.

“No, I’m simply having a word with my niece,” my aunt replied.

“Yes, this woman interrupted my wife’s dinner in an extremely unpleasant way,” Greg contradicted.

“She’s not your wife,” Ham grunted.

Uh-oh.

Shocking the crap out of me, Greg, with narrowed eyes and anger contorting his face, instantly fired back at Ham, “She’ll always be my wife.”

I went still. The table went still. I fancied the restaurant went still as I was pretty certain I watched ice form in a thick layer, crackling and groaning all around Ham.

“Well shit.” His words were sarcastic but that didn’t mean they weren’t dripping icicles. “See I’m in a position to apologize since I f**ked your wife against the wall before we left to come here.”