Page 49 of Ice Cold, Red Hot
The margarita was tangy and a little bit spicy. I let it roll over my tongue before answering. “The guy is not exactly expressive when it comes to emotion,” I pointed out.
“But you’d entertain the notion?”
“Nat. There is no notion.” But god, how I wished therewas. “Hey,” I said, realizing something. “It’s Saturday night. Why are you hanging out with me?”
She faked a hurt expression. “Can’t I hang with my best girl?”
I frowned at her.
“I just… I mean, it’s not a big deal.”
“Evan?”
“Yeah, we’re just… it was casual, you know?”
“You were so into him, though.”
She sniffed. “Yeah, casually into him.”
“Okay. So…it’s more than a break?”
“We’re done and it’s fine. Mutual.”
I examined her face, looking for signs of heartbreak, for any evidence that she felt the same kind of soul-crushing longing that I couldn’t seem to shake. It wasn’t there. “Okay. Well, I’m here if you need me.”
“You and tequila. You’re all I need,” she laughed, sipping her drink and reaching for the pitcher next to her when she’d drained the glass.
Monday morning I was prepared. I’d printed every bit of evidence I had, and cued it all up attached to an email to Dr. Gunning, scheduled to send at noon. And then I went to the lab.
Ethan was in his office, and the look he threw me when I appeared in his doorway was not friendly. “What?”
“Just curious if you’ve made progress.”
“With what, Moreno? I’m working here.”
Oh. It was going to be like that. Of course it was.
I pulled the sheaf of papers from my bag and spread them in front of him on the desk. The messages he’d sent me. The ones he’d sent Daria. The messages he’d exchanged with another girl who’d left Coldwater, which were even more telling.
“I don’t have time for this,” he said, pushing the papers away.
“Oh, no problem,” I said. “I can read them to you.” I picked up my favorite.
“Great work today, Steph. Let’s celebrate in my office later by exploring some of your deeper insights. With champagne? And wear that tank top you had on today—it was driving me crazy during our meeting.”
Ethan’s jaw dropped open.
“Oh, here’s a good one. ‘Daria, I’m impressed. But I bet I’ll be even more impressed with the skill set you demonstrate at my apartment after the mixer.’”
“I didn’t… that’s not…”
“It is,” another voice said from behind me. I turned to find Daria standing with her arms crossed. “And you know it.”
“You’re going to fix this. Today. For both of us.” I gestured to Daria.
Ethan had the gall to snort. “Are you actually threatening me?”
“It’s not a threat. It’s a warning.” I told him about the email. “Next stop is the Title Nine office.”
