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What the hell did he care? He didn’t work at Bredahl. And he was a fanatic about avoiding refined sugar and carbs—unless served in the form of alcohol.

I said shortly, “Astrid made sure she didn’t get a vote, didn’t she?”

He glared. “That’s a shitty thing to say.”

The waitress, apparently set to turbo speed, arrived with our drinks. We waited in simmering silence for them to be set before us.

The minute she was out of earshot, Dax said, “Youknowwhy she did it.”

“I don’t know why she didanyof it. And neither do you.”

“That, she did for you.Thatwas foryou. Because she loved you more than anything on the fucking planet.”

Then why did she let me rot in jail for eleven months?

I didn’t say it. I was never going to say it. I hated that I even thought it.

A tangy-sweet swallow of lemon drop eased the tightness in my throat. I knew Astrid had been like a big sister to Dax. He had to be shocked and confused, too. Even so, he seemed uncharacteristically worked up about this, especially given that Dax rarely got worked up about anything or anyone.

We sipped our drinks, listened to the music. The Kinks “You Really Got Me” gave way to a holiday favorite.

“How’s George?” Dax asked suddenly.

It’s the hap-happiest season of all…

“You’ll be pleased to know he agrees with you about selling the business.”

He muttered something under his breath.

“What?”

He shook his head, then, to my surprise, companionably bumped his knee against mine. “Sorry. I’m glad you came tonight. I’ve missed you.”

“Same.”

His dark gaze held mine. “I reallywouldhave come to see you if…”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay if you think I ever believed you could have topped that micromanaging bully.”

I tossed back the rest of my cocktail. Dax blinked. “Whoa, cowboy. Slow down there.”

I drawled, “I’m the Lemon Drop Kid, remember? The slingiest gunslinger this side of the Lake Montesian.”

Dax’s brows shot up. He glanced around for the waitress. “We should probably order food before you’re completely wasted.”

“I’m fine.” Actually, completely wasted sounded pretty good to me in that moment. Not thinking, not feeling, not worrying about anything soundedexactlylike what the doctor ordered.

The nurse—er, waitress—arrived and Dax ordered another round.

When we were alone again, he said, “Did you know Raleigh’s started looking into Astrid’s death?”

The words seemed to echo down a long tunnel.

I raised my head, stared at him. “The case is closed.”

Dax shrugged.