Sixth Grave on the Edge
Page 7Jealousy from Reyes was one thing, but jealousy from humans had a different taste, a different texture. It was hot and abrasive, like putting on scratchy burlap clothes right out of the dryer.
“When are you going to answer him?” Cookie asked, drawing my attention.
“When he deserves an answer,” I volleyed.
“So, saving your life countless times doesn’t warrant an answer?”
“Sure it does, but he doesn’t need to know that.”
One corner of her mouth tilted mischievously. “True.”
And that was one thing I never felt from Cookie. Jealousy. She was just as hot for Reyes as anyone, but she was never jealous of our relationship. She was happy for me, and therein lay the heart of a true friend. I’d thought Jessica was my best friend, but looking back with my 20/20 hindsight, I realized I’d felt jealousy radiate from her on several occasions in school. That should have been a clue, but I’d never been accused of being the brightest bedspread in the hotel.
“Okay, how are you going to get him over?”
“Well, since he lives right next door, I thought I’d just pound on the wall.”
“Not Reyes. Robert.”
Who was Robert again? Oh, right. “You let me worry about Uncle Bob.”
“This first date is just the primer. I’ll get him over right as your date is picking you up. He’ll be so blindsided, he won’t know how to react. What to say.” I giggled like a mental patient at that. “I’ll explain to him that you joined a dating service.”
“What?” Cookie balked. “He’ll think I’m desperate.”
“He’ll think you’re ready for a relationship.”
“A desperate one.” She fanned herself with the menu, her doubt evident in every swish.
“Cook, lots of people join dating services. It doesn’t have the stigma it used to.”
“Then what?”
“Then you’ll go on another date.”
“With the same guy?”
“Nope, a different guy.”
Fear caused panic to spike inside her. “What? Who? You said this would be quick and painless.”
Cookie groaned.
“This will work, Cook. Unless you want to do something really crazy and just ask him out yourself?”
“I couldn’t,” she said, shaking her head vehemently. “What if he says no? And then it would be really awkward between us for the rest of our lives. We’d have those awkward silences that make my eyebrows sweat.”
“Oh, yeah, those are pretty awful. Anywho, it’s date number three that will be the clincher. If he doesn’t ask you out before then, we may have to hire an actor.”
“An actor?”
“Cook, we’ve already been through this. Why are you questioning everything?”
“I think I’ve been in denial. But now that it’s really happening, I feel like those people who say they can bungee jump, but when they’re actually standing on the bridge, the reality of the situation hits them in the face.”
“Yeah, never bungee jump. Reality isn’t the only thing that hits you in the face.”
“At least the bungee rope didn’t leave a scar.”
“Thank goodness. So, for date number three, we need someone good. Someone who can be sexy and a butthead at the same time. Someone—” It hit me before I even finished the thought. “I got it.”
A slow, evil grin spread across my face. “Never you mind, missy. If we get that far, you’ll know soon enough. In the meantime, I have some bargaining to do.”
A loud bout of laughter echoed around me, and I glanced toward Jessica’s table. She was with the same three friends she was always with, and it made me wonder what they did for a living. They came to lunch here together almost every day. And were often here in the evenings as well. Did none of them have families? Responsibilities? A life?
I thought back to our big blowup in high school. Jessica had said some pretty nasty things. She’d turned on me so fast, my neck hurt. As well as my heart. A fact that she seemed to revel in. When I confronted her and asked her point-blank why she didn’t want to be friends, she told me I had no redeeming qualities. What the hell did that mean?
Cookie noticed where I was looking. She patted my hand to draw me back.
“Do you think I have redeeming qualities?”
She curled my fingers into hers. “You’re totally redeemable. You’re like a thirty percent–off coupon. No! A forty percent–off coupon. And I don’t say that lightly.”
“Thanks.”
Again, I felt Reyes’s heat before I saw him. He brought out our food personally, a service Jessica and her friends didn’t receive. Neither did the silver foxes, though they didn’t seem to mind. They kept winking at him, and one licked her lips suggestively. It was so wrong.
“Oh,” I said after he set our plates down, “I forgot to ask you. If you were a utensil, what would you be?”