The Secret of You and Me - Melissa Lenhardt Page 0,70
I’m a threat to you. You aren’t to me.”
“Are you making margaritas?” Tiffany called.
“Sure. Who wants one?”
Four hands went up.
“I’ll do the rims,” Alima said.
I glanced up from making the drinks and saw Nora watching us. She smiled at Charlie and laughed with the group, and her gaze found mine again.
“Sophie?”
Alima shifted in front of me, breaking my connection with Nora.
“I’m not going to out you, but if you keep looking at Nora like that, I won’t need to.”
I placed the lid on the shaker and drove it home with more force than necessary, my stomach tying itself up in knots.
I poured the margaritas into the prepared glasses, resisting the urge to throw the strainer aside and gulp the drink from the cold metal shaker until streams of liquid ran out the sides, leaving a sticky trail down my chin and neck before meeting at the center of my chest, dampening the top of my dress. I didn’t like tequila, but it had never stopped me from drinking it.
“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” Alima said.
My stomach flip-flopped. Tomorrow I would tell Nora my story. Tomorrow we would...
“My goodness, you’re striking when you smile,” Alima said.
I focused on squeezing limes into the shaker to take my mind off tomorrow. “Not going to be much help with the estate sale, are you?”
“I’m doing you a favor.”
“How so?”
“I’ve given Nora permission to fuck you.”
I fumbled a lime and dropped it on the floor.
“Hey, y’all,” Tiffany said, and picked up the lime. “It doesn’t take that long to make a margarita. You two seem to be hitting it off.”
I handed Tiffany two drinks. “Do we?”
“Sure. Probably having fun comparing the two Noras.” She sipped a drink, smacked her lips and said, “Delicious. Sorry you can’t have one, Sophie.”
I cleaned out the shaker. “So am I,” I said under my breath.
“Two Noras,” Alima said. “What do you mean?”
“Well, she’s different, isn’t she? Who would have thought Nora would have gone all city girl on us? I mean, you were always the uppity one, Sophie.”
“Would you deliver these, Tiffany? Enjoy your drink, Alima.”
I went to the kitchen. Joaquin and Logan stood close together over the onions. Joaquin saw me, jumped away and blushed. Right, I’d almost forgotten about catching my daughter having sex. “Oh, stop it, Joaquin,” I hissed. “I knew you were having sex weeks ago.”
“Mom.”
“You know what, grab twenty dollars out of my purse and go get dinner. I can’t deal with you two and everyone else here.”
“I’ll buy dinner,” Joaquin said. “Come on, Logan.”
“I’m staying to help my mom,” Logan said.
Joaquin and I talked over each other to convince her, but I could read Logan’s determination in the set of her mouth. The desire to leave warred with Joaquin’s fear that Logan was not happy with him. He rubbed his hands on his shorts and said, “Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Whatever,” Logan said under her breath.
I welcomed the chance to focus on Logan’s life instead of my own, though I wished it was a different subject. “Was that about me walking in on you two?” I whispered.
“No.” She moved the peppers and onions around in the skillet, picked up the seasoned pepper and shook a good portion on. “Not entirely.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“How are my two girls?” Charlie said, startling us both. He put his arms around me from behind and rested his chin on my shoulder. “You two telling secrets?”
“Yes. Go away,” I said.
He chuckled and kissed my neck, sending chills down my arm at the memory of Nora’s lips doing the same not fifteen minutes ago. “Is the meat ready?”
“Over there.”
He kissed the top of my bare shoulder and said, “You’re the most beautiful woman here. Love your dress.”
When he left, Logan said, “What’s gotten into him?”
“No idea,” I said.
Alima returned to the kitchen. “My offer to help still stands.”
“No,” Logan and I said together.
She nodded slowly and said, “We can finish our conversation later.”
“Can’t wait,” I said.
She wandered over to the two politicos, who looked a little lost and out of place. I should have tried with them, especially since they were going to be a large part of our life for the next year, but I didn’t want to.
“What was that about?” I said.
“I can ask you the same thing,” Logan said.
“I don’t like her.”
“Me either,” Logan said.
“Why?”
“She looks down her nose at us. Why don’t you like her?” Logan said.