too much, and take care of me as well. I needed to continue with the reading if I had any hope of saving my own skin. With a gulp and a shaking hand I drew another card, forcing myself to get a grip already. “Uh, this says that you do this for a living,” I said before I could stop myself. Where the hell was my filtering mechanism today?
“You could say that,” he shrugged.
I turned over another card, “This indicates that your family is very supportive of you; in fact you may even work for your family.”
“In a way,” he replied.
I tentatively turned over another card, and with a quaking voice I said, “Uh, well, there’s plenty of work out there for you. I mean, you’re in demand. I mean—”
“I get your meaning,” he said quietly.
With unsteady fingers I turned over another card, thinking that if he hadn’t killed me yet maybe I could talk my way out of this. “This says that there’s some sort of rift, like there are members of your family that have gone down a separate path, and that you no longer speak to one another, and there’s some really bad blood forming here, like people are turning on each other. . . .” I paused, not really understanding what I had just said.
The man leaned in, suddenly interested. “Go on,” he insisted.
“Uh, well, I get this feeling that there’s a member of your family who has betrayed you somehow, and that you’re right to keep him at a distance, but . . .” Something kept playing in the background of my head, and I paused to pay attention to it.
“What is it?” the man demanded.
“Well . . .” I hesitated.
“Tell me,” he said in a voice that wasn’t kidding.
“I keep hearing, ‘He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.”’
The man sat back and regarded me for a long moment before standing up abruptly and reaching into his jacket pocket, I assumed for a gun. Reflexively I pulled back in my seat and squeezed my eyes shut. He was going to kill me! I’d said too much!
There was a pause, and then I felt something flutter lightly in front of my face. Squinting one eye open I looked down to see a twenty-dollar bill on the table in front of me.
“Thanks,” he said, reaching down to pick up one of my business cards. “You’re good.” And with that he walked out of my area.
No sooner had he gone than I bolted up and scurried around the curtain, where Kendal was just finishing up with one of the bridesmaids. As she squeezed past me Kendal looked alarmed and asked, “Abby? What’s the matter? You look white as a ghost.”
“Shhhh!” I hissed at him, and jumped forward, grabbing his arm and yanking him out of his chair. “Come with me immediately !”
Kendal didn’t argue, and we made our way out of the curtained area and quick-stepped across the large ballroom through the double doors and down the hallway to a small cubby, where I was sure we had minimal privacy. Still, I kept my voice at a hiss level. “How could you book us for a mob wedding?” I said, accusation in my eyes.
“What?” he asked me, taken aback by my statement.
“Mob, Kendal! As in M-O-B, mob! This is a mob wedding! ”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just read a hit man for the freaking mob!”
“You what? ! ”
“Am I going to have to keep repeating myself, or will you eventually listen to what I’m saying!” I said, hissing vehemently in my state of panic.
“I heard what you said; I just don’t understand how you know you were reading a hit man for the Mafia,” Kendal said calmly.
“This is how it went,” I said, taking a breath to gather my thoughts. “I laid down a couple of cards—”
“Which ones?” Kendal asked, interrupting me.
I sighed impatiently. “The death card, the tower, and judgment.”
Kendal’s eyes got large. “All together?”
“Yep. Bam, bam, bam,” I said, slapping my palm with the back of my other hand. “In a row, one, two, three. So I get that he’s killed someone, and before I can stop
“You could say that,” he shrugged.
I turned over another card, “This indicates that your family is very supportive of you; in fact you may even work for your family.”
“In a way,” he replied.
I tentatively turned over another card, and with a quaking voice I said, “Uh, well, there’s plenty of work out there for you. I mean, you’re in demand. I mean—”
“I get your meaning,” he said quietly.
With unsteady fingers I turned over another card, thinking that if he hadn’t killed me yet maybe I could talk my way out of this. “This says that there’s some sort of rift, like there are members of your family that have gone down a separate path, and that you no longer speak to one another, and there’s some really bad blood forming here, like people are turning on each other. . . .” I paused, not really understanding what I had just said.
The man leaned in, suddenly interested. “Go on,” he insisted.
“Uh, well, I get this feeling that there’s a member of your family who has betrayed you somehow, and that you’re right to keep him at a distance, but . . .” Something kept playing in the background of my head, and I paused to pay attention to it.
“What is it?” the man demanded.
“Well . . .” I hesitated.
“Tell me,” he said in a voice that wasn’t kidding.
“I keep hearing, ‘He who lives by the sword shall die by the sword.”’
The man sat back and regarded me for a long moment before standing up abruptly and reaching into his jacket pocket, I assumed for a gun. Reflexively I pulled back in my seat and squeezed my eyes shut. He was going to kill me! I’d said too much!
There was a pause, and then I felt something flutter lightly in front of my face. Squinting one eye open I looked down to see a twenty-dollar bill on the table in front of me.
“Thanks,” he said, reaching down to pick up one of my business cards. “You’re good.” And with that he walked out of my area.
No sooner had he gone than I bolted up and scurried around the curtain, where Kendal was just finishing up with one of the bridesmaids. As she squeezed past me Kendal looked alarmed and asked, “Abby? What’s the matter? You look white as a ghost.”
“Shhhh!” I hissed at him, and jumped forward, grabbing his arm and yanking him out of his chair. “Come with me immediately !”
Kendal didn’t argue, and we made our way out of the curtained area and quick-stepped across the large ballroom through the double doors and down the hallway to a small cubby, where I was sure we had minimal privacy. Still, I kept my voice at a hiss level. “How could you book us for a mob wedding?” I said, accusation in my eyes.
“What?” he asked me, taken aback by my statement.
“Mob, Kendal! As in M-O-B, mob! This is a mob wedding! ”
“What are you talking about?”
“I just read a hit man for the freaking mob!”
“You what? ! ”
“Am I going to have to keep repeating myself, or will you eventually listen to what I’m saying!” I said, hissing vehemently in my state of panic.
“I heard what you said; I just don’t understand how you know you were reading a hit man for the Mafia,” Kendal said calmly.
“This is how it went,” I said, taking a breath to gather my thoughts. “I laid down a couple of cards—”
“Which ones?” Kendal asked, interrupting me.
I sighed impatiently. “The death card, the tower, and judgment.”
Kendal’s eyes got large. “All together?”
“Yep. Bam, bam, bam,” I said, slapping my palm with the back of my other hand. “In a row, one, two, three. So I get that he’s killed someone, and before I can stop
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