“Cora has a gift. Most would use it for good. I could see she would not.”
That didn’t sound good.
“What gift?” I asked.
“She excels with numbers.”
Oh dear. That could mean Cora was counting cards. Cora was playing poker and counting cards.
Shit!
“This isn’t good,” I muttered, grabbing a slice of American cheese and unwrapping it from its plastic.
“What’s that?” Tor asked and I looked at him to see his eyes on the cheese.
“American cheese.”
“And that clear sheet you’re removing?”
“Plastic wrap.”
His hand came out and he took the plastic from me. I slapped the cheese on one of the pieces of bologna and went for another slice as he rubbed the plastic between his fingers.
“Extraordinary,” he murmured.
“It doesn’t biodegrade,” I informed him, his eyes came to me, brows up and I slapped the second slice of cheese on another piece of bologna and continued. “Biodegrade, meaning break down. Return to nature. It never goes away. It’s manmade. It’s part of the reason this world is so… colorless.”
He looked at the plastic and then set it aside.
Acutely aware in a way I’d never been before of the waste I was creating, I opened another slice and slapped it on the last piece of bologna. Gathering the pieces of plastic, I took them to the garbage thinking I was never going to buy American cheese again and then I decided to take us back to target.
“If Cora’s gambling, and counting cards, that wouldn’t be good if someone suspects. But we have another problem,” I told him.
“And that would be?” he asked as I went back to the frying pan, turned off the burner and used a spatula to slide the pieces of bologna on the bread.
“I had a visitor today,” I told him. “The Cora of your world somehow managed to hook up with the Noctorno of this world. They’re together. The clothes you’re wearing are his. He’s the one who told me about the poker. It seems while you’ve been carrying on with me, she’s been carrying on with him.”
The air in the room suddenly changed and it was not a good change. It was also not a bad change.
It was a very bad change.
I turned my head to look at his face and I instantly realized my mistake.
He’d been in love with her. Maybe, by the look on his face, he still was. The news that his wife was cheating on him, regardless that he’d flagrantly cheated on her, was not going down very well.
Still, I felt for him and whispered, “Tor –”
“He visited today?” he asked in a soft, dangerous voice.
“Uh… yes.”
“He was here?”
“Um… yes,” I breathed for his expression nor tone had changed.
“With you?”
Uh-oh.