“It matters to us,” I said, smiling politely when the woman glanced at me. “I’m Gwen. This is Gregory.”
“You are not dead,” she said, as if making a profound judgment.
“No. Although I did die earlier in the week if that makes you feel any better.”
“Hmm,” she said, then turned to consider Gregory. She seemed to like him better than me, a thought that made me narrow my eyes. Did she have to ogle him so obviously? We weren’t a couple, but she didn’t know that. What if we had been?
I glared at Gregory when he smiled in a friendly fashion at her. He caught the edge of my glare and raised his eyebrows. I resisted the urge to kick him in the shins.
“Introduce us, Arawn,” she said, pronouncing his name with a heavy Welsh flourish.
“This is my ex-wife, Constance,” he said with a martyred sigh
