“Oh. Yeah,” I say slowly. “You didn’t let him touch you, right?”
Sandra plants a fist on her hip. “What happened is none of your business.” She sighs a little, and seems to force some calm into her voice. “But it wasn’t a date or anything. He had been bugging the crap out of me and I just wanted to get him to give up.”
I clench my teeth. “You know my grandfather’s will has nothing to do with how I feel about you, right?”
She flicks her eyebrows upwards. “Is that so?”
“Hey,” I say. “Nothing about what happened between us is fake. I can’t stop thinking about you, Sandra. You’re constantly on my mind. I see you when I close my eyes at night and you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up.” I frown. “Don’t make me beg.”
She folds her arms, smiling a little and looking down. “What’s in the bag?” she asks.
“Roman’s supposed to bring cupcakes for his first day of pre-school. I thought you being a baker and all… and since you still owe me for fixing your car.”
“I thought going to dinner was the payment.”
He shrugs. “I decided to charge some interest. Take it up with my accountant.”
“I’m pretty sure you don’t have an accountant.”
“Sue me for lying then. You can take that up with my lawyer.”
She grins, picking at the bag I’m holding. “You want me to make cupcakes for him?”
“I want you to teach me how to do it,” I say.
She laughs softly, a beautiful smile blossoming on her lips. “You got all this stuff so I would teach you how to make cupcakes?”
“Yeah,” I say.
I’m covered in so much flour that my eyes sting. Apparently, the mixer is more difficult to use than a fucking dynamometer. I chug a few gulps of the chocolate milk sitting out on the table from when we made the batter and sigh. “Maybe I should just watch you do this,” I say, smirking as I take in an eyeful of Sandra’s full ass while she leans over the counter to stir the frosting.
“Oh no you won’t,” she scolds. “You’re going to tell Roman you made these for him. It will mean so much for him to know that.”
I nod slowly. “Okay, okay. You said to just spoon these in--”
There’s a loud knock at Sandra’s door. I move to see who it is and Sandra follows, trying to outpace me but failing. If that David guy is coming to see her again, I’m going to do something to his face a dentist can’t fix this time.
I swing the door open and frown when I see Tara. Her eyes are red and puffy and she’s clearly uncomfortable being here. When she sees me, she opens her mouth to say something and snaps it shut, folding her arms and looking away.
“Can I come in?” she asks quietly. Almost meekly. Totally unlike her.
“Uh, yeah, maybe you should just head out for a little, Reid? We can finish--”
“I want my fucking cupcakes,” I growl.
Both Tara and Sandra give me slightly amused looks and shake their heads before walking toward the living room. They can be amused all they like, but the truth is Tara is as good as poison if you ask me. I’ll be damned if I leave her alone with my Sandra. I take a spot on the loveseat directly across from them, leaning forward and templing my fingers. Tara looks at me uncertainly and then back to Sandra.
Sandra shrugs. “You know how he is. It’s not like I can make him leave.”
“Damn right,” I murmur.
Both women snap their heads to glare at me, but they’ve both learned better than to try testing my stubbornness.
Tara takes a deep breath, turning her attention back to Sandra. “Mark left me. There’s some… some fucking floosie at Red’s he was flirting with last week. I didn’t think anything of it and then I found panties in our bed yesterday. When I confronted him he just got pissed at me for “acting like I was his mom’” and he dumped me. He just left.” She looks pleadingly at Sandra, as if hoping for some explanation that will change what happened.
Sandra looks like she’s battling an urge to do what she should do, which is to tell Tara she got what she deserves and to fuck off. Instead though, she puts a sympathetic hand on Tara’s arm and sighs. “I know this isn’t going to be what you want to hear right now, but at least you found out. It could have gone on for who knows how long without you knowing. You could have been married to him, even. And if he was willing to cheat with some girl from the bar, he would have found someone else to cheat with eventually. So, as much as it hurts, it’s better that you found out.”
I try not to smile with satisfaction when I see how Sandra’s words make Tara squirm. Without realizing it, Sandra just explained to Tara that the way she cheated on me was far worse than what just happened to her. From the white in Tara’s face, she didn’t miss it.
“Yeah. Better that I find out,” says Tara. Her voice is thin and without force though, like she doesn’t believe the words. “I’m sorry, too. I should have told you what Mark was planning with your bakery.”
Sandra nods. “Hey, don’t worry about all that right now.”
“I’m worried about it,” I say.
The look Sandra gives me could punch a hole through a glacier, but I meet her eyes and continue. “I am. And I won’t apologize for being more worried about you losing your bakery than I am about Tara getting a taste of her own medicine. Hell, maybe it’ll be good for her. That’s my advice. Take a big, deep breath and remember how this feels Tara. Maybe then you’ll think twice next time you want to betray someone’s trust.”
Tara gets up, fresh tears rolling from her eyes and storms out of the house. Sandra stands, but Tara is already out the door before she can go after her. “Really, Reid? That was really what you said to someone who just got cheated on?”
“She’s no good for you,” I say. “She treated you like shit and she’ll do it again. You know her as well as I do. Tara is real good at putting on a sad show when she wants sympathy. Once she’s got it, she’ll go right back to the way she was. She’s like a fucking pigeon. Keep giving her crumbs and she’ll keep coming back, but she won’t think twice about shitting on you or your car.”
“Shitting on... what?” asks Sandra.
I sigh. “You know what I mean. Point is, Tara is a shitty person.”
“Do you know something about her bathroom habits I should know?” Sandra asks. The hint of a smile flickering across her lips.
I grin back. “Yeah, now that you mention it. Keep clear around 3:00 P.M.”
“Okay, that’s disgusting,” Sandra complains. She looks back to the kitchen and bites her lip thoughtfully. “Let’s finish these cupcakes, but you’re still an asshole for how you handled that.”
I stand. “Guilty as charged and unrepentant.”
18
Sandra