Page 72 of Someone to Tempt
The conversation swirls around me while Taylor keeps an arm around me and Sloane pats my thigh at regular intervals. None of the women make a big deal about my tears or push me to talk or get over whatever is bothering me. They just let me cry while they wait, like they'll wait forever. And I realize that for all my fears about them only wanting to be around me because Sloane insists, they are truly my friends, prickly edges be damned.
I don't know how long it takes before my emotions are under control again. As if by magic, the moment I wipe my last tear away, a waitress arrives at the table and places a margarita in front of me.
"Thank you."
She nods. "I'll have the nachos and quesadillas y'all ordered out in a sec. Mayor Dixon, I want to say that I honor tradition and appreciate your opponent's dedication to... well, from what I can tell so far, he's devoted to seeing his name flashed all over the town."
"No doubt," Sloane murmurs.
"I'm a single mother," Regan—based on her name tag—continues. "I have a son who struggles with reading. Well, Jonah struggles with a lot of things since his dad left. Because you support the literacy programs at the library, he's gotten the extra help he needs. It's improved his behavior in school, and homework isn't such a fight. If there's anything to be grateful for, it's not fighting with my eight-year-old every night."
"Amen, sister," Molly agrees.
Regan flashes a smile. "I just want you to know I appreciate what you've done since you took office. As far as I'm concerned, you stand for the right kind of values. Also, the churros are on the house tonight."
I return her smile. "Churros might be the best medicine after a rough day. Thank you."
She nods and heads back toward the kitchen.
"Did you all pay her?" I demand with a laugh when she's gone, grabbing a napkin to blow my nose.
"No." Taylor shakes her head. "But it would have been a heck of an idea."
"She's right, you know," Sloane tells me, "and so is Molly. We'll all pitch in to help, Iris. We can campaign Joey Moore into the ground."
I take a sip of margarita and let the cold liquid ease the burn in my throat.
"That's the thing." I keep my gaze on the salted rim of my drink. "Do I want to open myself up to that kind of scrutiny? Joey could dredge up things I've spent years trying to forget. How can I stand in front of the town and talk about integrity and trust when I come from a family that broke both? I've tried my best, but maybe it's time to cut my losses."
"Sweetheart, no." Avah shakes her head and tucks a strand of glossy hair behind one ear. "You shouldn't be held responsible for the mistakes your mom and your brother made. If we were each accountable for the wrongdoings of our family, we'd all be in jail right now."
There's a beat of stunned silence at the table, and Avah wrinkles her button nose. "Okay, maybe it's just my family that gets on the wrong side of the law at that level, but most of us would be rocking in the corner or screaming into a pillow."
Everyone nods and murmurs words of agreement, but it feels like a four-hundred-pound gorilla is sitting on my chest. He stares into my eyes, daring me to be honest with these women. As much as I appreciate their support, if they only like the do-no-wrong version, what kind of friendship is that?
As scary as it is to say the words aloud, I force myself to begin. "It's not just what my mom and brother did. I'm my own biggest liability."
The waitress returns with a plate of chicken nachos and cheese quesadillas. She places them in the middle of the table, along with six appetizer plates. Her hand is barely out of the way before Sloane grabs one, drops a triangle of quesadilla and a large scoop of guacamole on it, and places it in front of me.
"You don't need to feed me like I'm a child," I tell her.
"I know how you get when stressed," she counters. "You forget to eat. Did you eat today?"
"Does an extra dollop of vanilla creamer in my fourth cup of coffee count?"
Taylor gives my shoulder another squeeze before removing her arm. "Take a bite before you tell us whatever you're about to tell us."
Everyone else nods in agreement.
"I'd rather say it first. Otherwise, I might add public puking to my current humiliation. But please eat while I'm talking. If your mouths are full, at least your jaws will be less likely to drop at my bombshell."
"I love a bombshell," Molly says as she scoops a heap of nachos onto a plate. "Is anybody else watching the latest season ofCastle of Love? Boris, who is supposed to be the heir to a European principality, was just revealed as a phony by the real heir, Mikhail, who showed up at the castle to win back Maria, his childhood sweetheart he lost touch with after his family was forced to flee their homeland."
"Slow the reality roll." Avah waves a hand in front of Molly's face. "I'm not knocking your TV choices, because we've all got our guilty pleasures, but our girl Iris is about to share something real, and you're blathering about fake drama."
"I don't think it's fake." Molly looks genuinely disturbed, then offers me a wan smile. "I'm also not trying to steal your thunder. I just figured in the realm of misery loves company, you might like to know there are other people dealing with bombshells."
"Eat your nachos, Mol," Avah orders.
