Page 21 of Work with Me

Mom pursed her lips. “Esmy’s blood pressure was high at her last checkup, so I got rid of all that stuff. People consume entirely too much salt. In fact—”

I interrupted her before she could go off on one of her nutritional diatribes. “How about butter?”

“We have olive oil. That’s heart-healthy.”

“On popcorn? Ew.”

“Popcorn is perfectly delicious plain.”

I wrinkled my nose. She hadn’t cared nearly as much about all this nutrition stuff when she’d been married to Dad. Or maybe she’d never loved Dad enough to care what was happening to his arteries. She for sure hadn’t loved him as much as she loved Esmy.

“Date night?” I asked as Esmy entered the kitchen wearing way more mascara than usual, skin-tight Wranglers, and her dancing boots.

“Dinner and then the honky-tonk.” Her gaze lingered on Mom, whose plaid shirt was open one pearl snap lower than usual, revealing lace at her cleavage. “Don’t wait up.”

I unplugged the popper and grabbed the bowl of cardboard-flavored popcorn. I’d make a junk-food run to the store tomorrow. Too bad it’d be too late for movie night. “Have fun, kids.”

Esmy leaned in and smacked an air kiss in my ear. “Cariño, there’s a saltshaker in the cabinet behind the cookie sheets,” she whispered.

“Thanks.” I kissed her smooth, golden cheek.

“When’s the last time you had a date, Alicia?” Mom speared me with a glare like she’d heard about the secret salt.

I popped a dry kernel into my mouth. It reminded me of Rick’s passionless kisses. “Last summer, I guess. After soccer season ended.”

“Rick is such a nice man. And Noah and Palmer get along so well together. I thought he might be the one.”

“Mom, I’m not going to marry someone just because our kids are friends.”

“There are worse reasons to get married.”

Like getting knocked up. But we didn’t talk about that. Before Esmy came into Mom’s life, she never talked about feelings at all. Which was why she’d stayed married to Dad for so long.

She must’ve seen the thought pass across my face. “Don’t start.”

“Who started anything? I’m just standing here, eating delicious air-popped popcorn.” God, what I wouldn’t give for a beer. But I’d emptied our stash after last night’s soccer game, feeling sorry for myself while Jackson and the team bonded without me. I’d sworn off the awkward company picnics and happy hours. I shouldn’t have cared. And I didn’t. Much. “Now go on, lovebirds. Have fun.”

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. Esmy threw me another air kiss and hustled her out the door.

Grabbing two flavored waters from the fridge, I went to the living room, where Noah was already set up on the squashy old sectional. Tigger nestled into his side, purring as Noah scratched between his ears.

“Did you remember the salt?” Noah asked. “Esmy hides it behind the cookie sheets.”

“I’ll go get it. And some napkins.” He had a smear of Esmy’s pink lipstick across his forehead. “Cue up the movie?”

“Space or superheroes?” He flicked through the options.

“Superheroes.” After two weeks of working with Jackson Jones, I could use a hero. He was more the hot-villain type like Loki inThe Avengers, secretly working against me. Like when he’d invited the guys out for drinks last night, on a night he knew I couldn’t join them. I knew what he was doing; I’d seen it before. He was building up some bro-loyalty, and he’d cash it in when he needed to torpedo me.

Though,a too-rational voice in my brain said,shouldn’t he be building up loyalty with the team? It’s his team, not yours. You’re leaving when the project is over.

Get in, get a paycheck, get out. Do not hang out after work with the dangerously attractive company founder. I should’ve put that on my business plan.

When I returned with the salt and napkins, Noah had the movie cued up, but even after I salted the popcorn and wiped the lipstick off his face, he didn’t start it. He had his talking face on.

“What’s the matter?” I asked.Don’t let it be about girls. Don’t let it be about girls.

“Do I have to go to school?”

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