Page 46 of Lesson Learned

“I suppose that leaves space for Floss to come back,” I say idly. The girl can’t even look him fully in the face. He’s obviously behind whatever secret it is neither one of them will tell me.

“Don’t need another whore at the table,” James calmly replies, and I doubt he’s referencing the girl whose breast he’s openly fondling.

I glance at her, but she stares glumly at her plate.

Much as I want to rise to the bait, I launch an attack from a different angle. Speaking only to my friend, I ask, “Want to go out on Saturday night?”

Just a month ago, I wouldn’t need to ask—every Saturday was an automatic night out for our group. But we haven’t been anywhere since Marnie’s nose was busted.

“Where are we going?” James asks, his dark eyes raking over me while his lips twist.

“Girls’ night.”

He winks at me, and I need to take a long bath. “I love girls’ nights.”

I try to hold my face still, but the disappointment must leak through because Marnie finally shifts in her seat. “That sounds good. We still haven’t taken you out for your birthday. I’ll check with Brooke but I’m sure she’ll want to come.”

A crease appears on James’ smooth forehead. “Are you sure, babe? Look what happened last time.”

“Last time was down to Floss,” she says, shifting uneasily. “No one’s suggesting she’s invited.”

Although it would be interesting. I tuck the potentially friendship-ending idea away.

“You can wear your new dress,” he says in an abrupt U-turn, and the shiver of suspicion recurs. That he knows the outfit is ruined. That he’s pranking me somehow.

“Mm,” Marnie replies noncommittally while I flash her a strained smile.

When the awkward meal is over, most of it spent taking notes since neither one of my table companions wanted to hold a conversation, I tell Marnie I’ll spend the rest of the evening studying and wave her goodbye.

The moment she’s gone, I pack up my stuff ready to go, then wait for Floss to make an appearance.

To my surprise, I spot her heading for the library again. Inside, she takes a book off the shelf, seemingly at random, barely glancing at the title, then heads for the reading area in the corner where three comfy chairs in garish orange are arranged before a faux fireplace with the gas flames turned off.

“Hey,” I call out, taking a seat next to her so she’ll have to walk past me to get away. “Haven’t seen you in ages.”

She shifts nervously in her seat, hands clenching on the book. “Yeah, my dad nixed my allowance so I can’t go out any longer.”

I rack my brain for titbits of her family background, frowning in concentration until she laughs.

“Way to make a girl feel special. Not knowing a single thing about her family.”

I shrug, buoyed a little by her good humour. “Like you can talk. Do you know the first thing about mine?”

She shakes her head, fingers no longer gripping the book with white knuckles. “Let me guess. You’ve got a dozen siblings and you all live in a tiny shack on the bad side of town.”

“How dare you? They’re my cousins, not my siblings.”

Her eyes open a little wider, startled. “But the rest is true?”

“Pretty much. My mother died when I was really young, so I was raised by my uncle and his six strapping sons.”

Or put into service for them, which is how it felt most of the time after my aunt had a mental health crisis, decamped overseas to her extended family, and never really showed her face again.

“What about you?” I narrow my eyes. “Let me guess. Daddy’s rich and wants to stay that way, so he’s marrying you off to his biggest business rival so he can join the company’s together and become the world’s first Trillionaire.”

She gives a small shrug.

“Don’t be coy,” I say, waggling my finger. “At least tell me if I’m in the right ballpark.”

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