"I know." I mutter. "If only it were as easy as flipping a switch." Changing the subject, I ask, "Where is Oliver?" Oliver and Violet recently got engaged, but they're already acting like an old married couple.
It's endearing. She gives me an apologetic look. "He called ten minutes ago to say he's sick as a dog. It sounds like he came down with one of those twenty-four-hour bugs."
"Oh no." I squeeze her arm, then ask, "Are you still coming to Vegas? I'll understand if you can't."
The selfish side of me hopes she's still coming. I was looking forward to dancing the night away with her.
A bunch of the guests wish me a happy birthday, and when we step outside into the balmy summer air, I inhale a deep breath. "You know how it is," Violet says. "Men are always dying when they get sick. I'll make it up to you.
Once Oliver is better, we can have a spa day."
I feel a flicker of disappointment but smile at Violet, not wanting her to feel bad. "It's okay."
I might as well cancel the plans for Vegas. There's no way I'll get Viktor on a dance floor. Besides, he's busy with work and a girl he kidnapped after an attack on the Sicilians. The only reason the family hasn't lost their shit about Viktor keeping a woman prisoner is that we know he won't hurt her, and Rosalie has nowhere to go after her family was wiped out.
From the couple of times I've interacted with Rosalie, she's made it clear she's not interested in getting to know me, so I haven't forced the subject.