Page 90 of Call it Reckless

Bristol winked at her. “I guess I still know how to rattle this town a bit, but in a more productive way.”

CHAPTERTWENTY-NINE

Bristol

“Ithink that should do it,” Paige declared. She rested her hands on her hips, a satisfied grin lighting up her face as she looked around the fresh coat of paint. “I’m so glad the sellers accepted my offer so quickly.”

“They were eager to sell, and I think they liked the idea of someone who saw a vision for their home,” Teagan answered.

Cam and I stood back, admiring our work. After our Saturday of house hunting a few weeks ago, Paige hadn’t spent long deciding which house she wanted and put in an offer that evening. She’d closed on it yesterday and recruited us to help her freshen it up.

The three of us had spent our Sunday afternoon painting the entrance, living room, and kitchen a soft sage green. In two days, her household goods would be delivered, and Paige would be an official resident of Sterling Mill.

“It’s so pretty,” Cam said. “You have a good eye for color. If you ever get tired of doing hair and makeup, you can work for me.”

Paige laughed. “Thanks. But I don’t think I’m up for how much physical labor this kind of thing is. Not to mention, it’s murder on the nails.”

“In that case, give me your brush, and I’ll rinse it out for you, your royal highness.” I held my hand out, and both girls quickly transferred their brushes to my hand. Chuckling, I washed the brushes out and returned to find them making dinner plans.

Paige smiled at me. “Let’s go to Ruth’s. I’m in the mood for her chicken pot pie. I swear, I’m going to gain twenty pounds here. I’m used to fancy restaurants, but I’ve never had anything that beats her cooking.”

Cam and I both laughed. We’d heard those comments many times. “She’s a gem. I swear she puts something in her food that’s addictive so we all keep coming back.” I glanced at my watch. “It shouldn’t be too bad at this time, but we should get going.”

“Oh, I need to go home and change first,” Paige said, looking at her regular jeans and graphic T-shirt woefully.

Cam and I laughed again. “We’re used to seeing working folks around here,” Cam told her. “You’re fine. You don’t even have any paint on your clothes.”

She bit her lip, then shrugged her shoulders. “Okay. In for a penny, in for a pound.”

We piled into Cam’s car and headed the fifteen minutes into town. The diner had several people, but there were a couple of booths to choose from. We sat and sipped the waters our harried waitress brought to us.

From a couple of booths behind us, a raised voice caught our attention. “Look, I ordered no tomatoes on my salad. How hard is it to get that right? I mean, even a child could understand that. I should speak to the manager about you.”

My stomach clenched. It was the same voice from the grocery store.

I watched as our young waitress’s cheeks burned a bright red. “I’m so sorry. The kitchen is short-staffed and busy today. I can take it back and have the tomatoes removed.”

“The kitchen isn’t my problem. The salad has already been contaminated. I want a new one. Immediately.”

The poor girl scurried past our table on the way to the kitchen, mumbling an apology and a promise that she’d be right with us as she passed our table.

“Wow. And I thought that attitude like that only showed up in the big cities,” Paige said.

The still pink-cheeked waitress came back to our table. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting. What can I get you?”

I waved my hand. “It’s no problem.” We placed the rest of our orders.

“Waitress! I’m still waiting,” Nora’s voice singsonged over the din of the other patrons.

Paige shook her head. “What a bitch.” She didn’t bother to lower her voice.

Over Paige’s shoulder, I saw Nora’s shoulders hike up almost to her ears. Her companion looked over Nora’s shoulders and saw us. Instantly, her frown turned into a smirk. She lifted a finger to Nora, then slid across her bench. In seconds, her shadow fell over our table.

“Well, well. The prodigal daughter has returned.”

I turned on my most charming smile. “Well, hello, Trin. It’s been a while. I see your taste in friends hasn’t improved.”

Trinity Burton had been the queen bee back when we were in high school. She didn’t like me then, mostly because a boy she once liked asked me out instead of her. It was beyond her comprehension that he might be attracted to a “wrench bender.”

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