"How were we supposed to know he couldn't hold on? It's not like I killed him. Besides, he's already gone—what's the point of taking it out on us now? Just because your dad died, I'm not allowed to celebrate? Should I die too?" He waved his hand dismissively. "It's settled. We're all friends here. Don't make it awkward."
The celebration was at the most luxurious hotel downtown.
Colin had booked a large private room and invited his flight crew colleagues—and Scarlett.
When I pushed open the door in plain black mourning clothes, the lively room fell silent.
Colin had been mid-brag, wine glass in hand. The moment he saw what I was wearing, disgust flickered across his face.
"Elise, today is my celebration dinner. Who exactly are you mourning? Talk about bad luck."
Scarlett sat pressed against his side in a deep-V spaghetti strap top, tattoos on full display. She stubbed out her cigarette, stood up reeking of alcohol, and grinned.
"Don't jinx it. Today's a big day—Colin got promoted, got a raise, and won an award. We're drinking until we drop!"
His coworkers chimed in eagerly.
"Yeah, Mrs. Matthews, Captain Matthews is our company's role model this year."