“Don’t get hooked into your cousin’s drama,” Daisy said at last, leveling me with a penetrating glare. “She’s trouble, and she’s a user. If your momma were here she’d tell you the same thing.”
I grinned at Daisy and shook my head; her advice was good, but she wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. “Okay. I won’t get hooked into her drama.”
“Good.” She nodded once, wiping her hands on a towel and splitting her attention between me and Daisy as the latter waved goodbye to her ride. “I’ll send Beverly out to take your orders.”
“Thanks, Daisy.”
“Mmm hmm,” she said noncommittally, like she didn’t want to be rude but refused to sanction my dinner with Tina.
I walked to the door just as Tina entered. As I waved, and was about to suggest we grab a booth, she surprised me by yanking me forward and into a big hug. I was usually two inches taller than my cousin, but not tonight. I noticed she was wearing a pair of shiny-red, spiked platform shoes. If I wore those shoes I’d fall on my ass before I could take a step. But she walked in them as though they were slippers.
As we hugged she squealed, like she was super happy to see me, and this made me smile. We’d been good friends growing up, at least I’d thought so at the time. I wondered if, over time, our high school years would prove to be merely a friendship-sabbatical.
She leaned away and gave me a giant grin. “Oh my goodness, girl! You look so great.” Tina squeezed my hand one more time before releasing me. We both slid into the nearest booth, smiling at each other.
“You do, too. You’re looking great.”
She did look great. She looked hot. Like, super hot. Hot in a way I wouldn’t even know how to go about achieving.
Tina wore false eyelashes and an impressive amount of artfully applied eye makeup. She and I looked nothing alike. Growing up, no one ever guessed we were related. She looked more like my daddy’s side of the family, and I favored my mother’s side.
But we both had brown eyes, though not at all the same color. I thought of my irises as plain brown. Whereas her eyes—with all the careful framing and highlighting—appeared to be the color of whiskey. The effect was dramatic. Beautiful. I wanted her to teach me how to do it.
The rest of her makeup was impeccable. She’d dyed her naturally light brown hair dark black, wore it lose in long shiny waves around her shoulders—which was basically a miracle since she’d just been on a motorcycle. Her hair paired with her sun-bronzed skin—another miracle since the sun had been hiding for two weeks—gave her a rather exotic look.
Of course, her clothes took everything to a completely new level of conspicuous hotness. She was in black leather pants, really sexy leather pants, and a white, low cut V-neck angora sweater. Both fit her like a second skin, which was fantastic for her since she was clearly in excellent shape.
Beverly, our server, came by almost immediately with two glasses of sweet tea and water, assuming correctly what we wanted to drink, and we both already knew what we were going to order.
Tina waited until Beverly was out of earshot before leaning forward and saying in a low, conspiratorial voice, “I was a little surprised you wanted to meet here.”
“What? Why?”
She blinked at me as though the answer were obvious. When I continued to stare at her with obliviousness, she laughed lightly and shook her head.
“You know what I do, for a living, right?”
I nodded and sipped my sweet tea. “Yes. I know.”
“I guess I’m just surprised you didn’t mind being seen with me so publically.”
I gave her a sideways glance. “Wait…I think I know what you do. You’re still dancing at the Pink Pony, right?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“You haven’t joined ISIS or anything, right?”
“What’s ISIS?”
“I mean, you’re not actively plotting to overthrow the government?”
She giggled and tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m not even sure what that means.” Then Tina’s expression turned abruptly sober and she leaned forward, her eyes boring into mine. “But, listen, I have to talk to you about something important. It’s kind of why I wanted to get together.”
“Oh, okay. What’s up?”
Her gaze turned speculative as it released mine and moved over my black, fitted, cotton long-sleeved shirt, then darted to my hair. “I always envied your blonde hair. It’s so pretty, just like your momma’s.”
“You want to talk about my hair?”
“No, silly.” She shook her head, rolling her eyes. “So…you and Duane Winston, what’s going on there?”
I felt my lips part and my eyebrows lift in surprise. An involuntary ache squeezed my chest, making it hard to breathe for a moment. She stared at me while I struggled to find words.
Finally I managed to say, “Nothing. I mean, we went on one date. But nothing now.”
Her eyes narrowed. “You went on a date?”
“Yes.”
“When? Recently?”
“Uh, last Saturday.”
“So a week ago?”
“Almost, yes.”
“But no second date?”
“No. No second date.”