Page 51 of Love In Translation

Abi winced and Rheo felt two feet high. Right.

Carrie went on. “You’re allowed to mess up, Rheo, for God’s sake! So, your life didn’t go to plan, it often doesn’t!”

Carrie wasn’t reacting the way Rheo expected her to, and that puzzled and annoyed her. They always dealt with each other in a certain way, had done so all their lives, but Carrie was reading from a new script. And Rheo didn’t know her lines.

“So you and Fletch are staying in the Pink House together,” Carrie mused, a small smile touching her face. “What do you think of him? He’s cool, right?”

Of all the words Carrie could pick, “cool” was the last one Rheo anticipated. Hot, sexy, masculine... She’d braced herself to hear those. But Carrie’s “cool” was friendly and held no sexual heat. Rheo frowned as she took in her wide smile. Was her idea of Fletch and her cousin hooking up in the past another of her stupid-ass assumptions?

So, what did she think about him? That he was the hottest, sexiest, nicest man she’d met? Ever? That he gave the best orgasms, and she loved talking to him more than any other person she could think of? That she was hovering on the edge of falling for him, conscious of losing her footing?

Rheo had no clue how to express her thoughts, so she just lifted one shoulder. “He’s okay,” she said.

Abi shook her head and rolled her eyes.

“Fletch and I have become...” she hesitated “...friends. He’s encouraging me to come clean with the family.”

“And he’s right,” Carrie snapped. “You keep yourself apart, Rheo, and pulling personal information out of you is like pulling blood from a stone.”

Yes, well, that’s what happened when you didn’t fit in.

“So, are you going to tell your parents?” Carrie asked, gripping the bridge of her nose.

“At some point,” Rheo replied.

“They’ll be fine with it. They don’t freak out when life does a three-sixty. Paddy, on the other hand, she’s going to lose her shit when she hears your wonderful job is in jeopardy and that you’ve been living in her house without her permission.”

“I know,” Rheo said, sounding glum. “Please don’t tell her, Carrie I need to. If she hears it from you, she’ll be even madder at me.”

Carrie nodded. “I’ll keep it quiet, but the longer you delay telling her, the angrier she’ll be. Man, she’s gonna be mad. You’re her blue-eyed girl, literally. The one who got things right.”

“And that’s why I haven’t told her yet,” Rheo admitted. “I don’t want to disappoint her.”

“Oh, we’ve all disappointed her at some stage in our lives and the world keeps turning,” Carrie told her, grinning. “Paddy’s good opinion isn’t the be-all end-all, Rhee.”

No, it just felt like it.

“Even your dad has managed to keep going despite them not talking for a year,” Carrie said, sounding sarcastic.

“Do you believe he asked to see Paddy’s will?” Rheo asked.

Carrie looked surprised. “Are we still talking about this? Jesus, you and Paddy can’t let things go! It happened so long ago—”

No, only twelve months...

“—but no, I don’t. He said he didn’t, and I believe him. Your dad doesn’t mind being called a layabout or a drifter, but being called a liar caused more hurt than you or Paddy realize.”

Great.

Somebody called Carrie’s name and she turned around, bestowing her golden smile on someone off camera.

“I’ve got to go,” she told Rheo. She lifted her finger and pointed it at Rheo, frowning. “Call Paddy and your folks. Oh, and I might be able to get to Gilmartin sooner than I thought. Do you want to do some climbing with Fletch and me?”

Rheo scowled at her mischievous smile. “I’m just going to let my middle finger do the talking right now,” she told her, with no heat in her voice.

Carrie laughed, disconnected, and Rheo tossed her phone on the table and looked at her friend. “Well, that went better than I thought.”

“Good,” Abi told her and pushed her glass of wine closer to her. “Now drink. I’ve never seen anyone who needs more of a buzz than you do right now.”

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