Page 59 of Indigo Sky

She followed close behind, crowding my space, and the urge to bark at her pulled tight against my nerves.

"Listen, I have to go. I'm already running late. But I'll be home for a few minutes before I have to go to the club, and I'll tell you how it went, okay?" I said, forcing my jaw to relax.

If I ground my teeth any more today, my molars were going to shatter, and the last thing I needed was a hefty dental bill to have them capped.

"Yeah, okay," she said, patting me on the back. "I'll see you then."

"Yep."

I hurried out the door before she had the opportunity to say anything more, relieved to get away from her. But the moment I was behind the wheel, the guilt gnawed at me like hungry worms feasting on a corpse. I had great, supportive, understanding parents. They’d always been cool when I was a kid, never getting on my case over stupid shit when other kids’ parents might have, and now, in adulthood, they'd become good friends. They gave me space; they respected my privacy. I rarely got mad at them. Taking my lack of sleep and nerves out on Mom now was uncalled for, and as I pulled out onto the road to head to the diner where I was meeting Kate, I dialed Mom's number and put the call on speakerphone.

"Miss me already?" she answered right away, a smile in her tone.

I plonked my elbow onto the window ledge and raked my hand through my disheveled hair. "Sorry I blew you off."

"Oh, you're fine, hon. It's been a crappy week—I get it."

"Yeah, well, that doesn't give me the right to take it out on you."

"I don't take it personally; don't worry."

I filled my lungs with a calming breath. "All right, cool."

"Where are you taking her?"

"The Golden Carousel Diner," I replied. "We both work tonight, so we're just eating quickly before—"

"Can I ask you a question? And it's none of my business—you don’t have to answer—but I'm curious."

The peace I'd just begun to find was immediately replaced by quickly mounting aggravation. I could only guess what she wanted to ask, and I had a sneaking suspicion I was going to be angry with any of the possibilities.

"What's up?"

"Do you think you'll … you know … have a problem with her being a, uh …"

I narrowed my glare at the car speakers. "A what?"

"Oh God, you know what I mean." Then, she dropped her voice to a whisper, as if she didn't want anyone to hear. "A stripper."

My lips rolled between my teeth as I considered the question, surprised I wasn't particularly annoyed at all. It was valid. I could imagine a great deal of people would find themselves in a constant state of jealousy and possessiveness, knowing their significant other was nearly naked in the presence of strangers on a nightly basis. Being looked at. Being touched. Being the fuel for countless fantasies, as Kate had been for my own fantasies years ago.

It was herjob—I understood that. During those hours on the stage and in the crowd and in the private rooms, she worked forthem. I could be an adult about that, and I didn’t waste one second on judgment. But would there ever be a time when I felt crazed with the need to mark my territory?

I couldn't say because I'd never been in that position before.

"I don't really know," I replied honestly. "I mean, it's what she does for work."

"Oh, I understand that, and I don't have a problem with someone making a living that way. I'm not judging. I can just envision that it could potentially put a strain on a relationship … if, you know, this went in that direction."

"Yeah"—I blew out a breath as the diner came into view—"I get what you're saying."

"Anyway!" Her voice perked up instantly, as if to push away the negative vibe. "I don't mean to bring you down, hon. It was just on my mind, and … maybe I shouldn't have said anything …"

"No." I pulled into the parking lot. "It's fine, Mom. But I'll cross that bridge if I get there."

"All right. Have a good time, okay?"

We said our quick goodbyes as I parked and checked my hair in the rearview mirror. I looked like I was in desperate need of a shower, but there wasn't much I could do about that now. So, I brushed my hands through it and hoped it didn't look as bad to others as it did to me.