The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue #2) - Jessica Hawkins Page 0,65
food restaurant. One of the girls worked for me and invited me over after we closed. You think that kind of stuff only happens in movies, and it probably does—to other people. I smile to myself as I remember the way they devoured each other and then me. My smile fades and my mind is officially changed. Bell’s not allowed to be a lesbian, either.
I pace my office and catch myself glancing at the clock, but I’m not sure why. I have nowhere to be. I take out my phone. Amelia is different from other women I know, and one of the reasons is her blunt honesty. I’ve reciprocated that. If I want something, I should be able to say so, because that’s what our relationship is. And I want something. I want it bad. I start to write to her, but our last interaction sits loudly on the screen. Goodbye, Andrew. She thinks she doesn’t want to see me, and she’s more stubborn than I am. Texting won’t be enough to convince her otherwise. I need to see her face to face and convince her to let me spend a night making it up to her.
When I come out of my office, Sammy’s mom is talking to Pico. I wave at her, and she smiles but quickly returns to Pico. Then, I notice her full face of makeup, skirt, and heels. No shit. She’s into Pico. “He lives with his mom,” I shout across the garage, just to keep it real.
Pico reddens. “I don’t live with her,” he tells Myra, scratching his head with his middle finger. “She likes the company, and I’m saving to start my own thing.”
Seeing Myra, a big, fat, hell-of-an-idea hits me. I’ve babysat Sammy here at the shop plenty of times. And Bell likes Sammy as much as any of her friends. She might be cool to spend an evening with them, so long as I spin it right, and by spin it, I mean buy them loads of pizza.
I turn in Myra’s direction. “Hey.”
“Thanks for letting Sammy hang out,” she says.
“No problem. Actually . . .” It’s harder to get the words out than I thought it’d be with Pico watching. He’ll want to know where I’m going on my own. To earn another shot with Amelia, though, I have to man up. I wipe my forehead with my sleeve. “Any chance you could take Bell for a few hours? Maybe even overnight?”
“Sorry,” she says. “We’re headed to Pittsburgh for the weekend to visit my sister.”
“Sure. It’s last minute.” I glance at Pico. “You?”
He sniffs. “Can’t, bro. I’m busy.”
I look at him skeptically. “Doing what?”
“Stuff. I have my own life, you know.”
“Then I’ll ask your mom.”
“She can’t either.”
“Look,” I say, “if you’re getting me back for the mom comment—”
“I’m taking my mom to Bingo, all right?” He darts his eyes to Myra and back to me. “We do it every month.”
I’d ask him to take a night off, but I’m laughing too hard. Myra doesn’t seem to think it’s funny—she’s swooning. Once I’ve wiped tears from my eyes, I shake my head. “Never mind.”
“Why?” Pico looks suspicious as hell. “Where’re you going on a Friday night?”
I back away. With all Flora’s done for me, it wouldn’t be right to interrupt her plans. “I said never mind.”
I find Bell and Sammy in the garage’s waiting room watching Doctor Who. I’ve run out of all options but one. Ambushing Sadie—and Amelia—at the office and hoping for a miracle of some sort. “Hey, Bell.” I put a finger in each ear, readying myself for her squeals. “Let’s go into the city.”
Her eyes are glued to the screen. “Huh?”
“Did you hear me? I said New York City.”
“Um.” She shifts deeper into the couch. “I’m okay here.”
“Really? I thought maybe you’d want to surprise Aunt Sadie.”
“Aunt Sadie?” she repeats, staring straight ahead. She hasn’t heard anything I’ve said. Reluctantly, I mumble, “We can ride the subway.”
She blinks a few times and then jumps off the couch, startling Sammy from his own trance. “The subway?”
Bringing Bell along is a last resort, but the truth is, that’s where I am. I’ll have to convince Sadie to take Bell for a night without raising any suspicion and then convince Amelia to give me a second chance. It’ll take some maneuvering, but after a week of trying and failing to get Amelia out of my head, I need to do something, even if it’s impulsive. Even if it might be a mistake.