Free The District by Carol Ericson

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    “I—I...just a little nightcap.”
    “Christina,” he said as he cupped some water in his hand and tipped it over, “you don’t have to pretend to be a teetotaler for me. I ordered two drinks at dinner, remember?”
    “I know. It’s just that your mom...”
    “Was an alcoholic and a prescription drug addict. That was my mom. I don’t put a black check mark next to someone’s name just because they like a social drink now and then.”
    “I know. It’s silly.” To prove her point, she grabbed the bottle and twisted off the cap.
    “A twist cap? Only the best, huh?”
    She turned the bottle in her hand and studied the dark blue label. “It’s actually a decent chardonnay from a good little winery in Sonoma—not that I would know one from the other.”
    “Of course not. Leave a little in the bottle for me. I’d like to try it.”
    She poured most of the golden liquid into the plastic cup, leaving a gulp for Eric.
    “Here you go.” She handed him the bottle through the steam, and it promptly beaded up with moisture.
    He took it and tipped the neck toward her. “Here’s to finding our guy.”
    “To finding our guy.” She tapped the rim of her cup with the bottle and took a sip. The cool liquid ran down her throat, contrasting with the heat on her skin, made hotter by the man lounging across from her. “There is one hot tub rule I have to ask you to follow.”
    “What’s that? No nudity?”
    His grin melted her insides even more, and she splashed him. “That goes without saying. Those are the hotel rules, anyway. This is my personal rule for hot tub time.”
    “I’m listening.” He wrapped his lips around the bottle and tipped his head back.
    “No shoptalk. This is time to relax, not rehash.”
    “You got it.” He touched the bottle to his forehead, and then aimed it at her chest. “You used to favor bikinis. What happened?”
    She smothered a cough and almost snorted wine out of her nose. “I always like a one-piece at the hotel pools. Stays on better when I want to do a little swimming.”
    She’d just started feeling comfortable in a bikini after her pregnancy and giving birth to Kendall, but she couldn’t explain that to Eric. This craziness had to stop. She couldn’t continue to work with him and keep the most important part of her life a secret.
    “Yeah, I guess I remember you always did wear a one-piece in the ocean.”
    She took another sip of wine and cupped its sweetness on her tongue before swallowing it. Was it time to get personal? “So you never came back to the city after South America?”
    “They sent me to D.C. I’ve been homebasing it there.”
    “Do you miss the city? Your brothers?”
    “Yes and sort of. I was kind of relieved when I found out Sean was on an extended vacation. He’s so damned controlling.”
    “At least he’s not a witch.”
    “Yeah, he’s got that going for him.” He made a cross over his heart and said, “Not to bring up work, but speaking of siblings, when is the last time you saw your sister Vivi?”
    “About a month ago, but you know what’s funny?”
    “Besides your father being a brujo and your sister being a witch? What?”
    “I had a dream about Vivi a few weeks ago.”
    “Good? Bad?”
    She massaged her temple with her fingertips. “It just came to me. I had forgotten all about it.”
    “Do you remember what it was about?”
    He had stretched out his legs and wedged his feet against her seat, too close to her thigh for comfort.
    She scooted over a little. “I don’t remember now. Just Vivi being Vivi, yapping up a storm about something. Maybe she was at the front of a classroom and I was a student. Something like that.”
    “Is she much younger than you? Five years?”
    “About six. I think my father groomed her like he wanted to do with me had my mom allowed it.”
    “I think your mom made a wise decision.”
    “You think I should contact Vivi about this coven stuff, don’t you?” She tucked a few damp tendrils