Page 26 of Fluke
“What’s that?” Moss asks, shutting the door behind him.
“They didn’t know when to stop having kids.” I stop at my shoe rack and grab my sneakers. “Think about it. What if the boys stopped with Maddox, and then they got Paige?”
“We’d be bored.”
I consider that and shrug. “Why are you still here, anyway? Where’s Brooke?”
“She took her grandma dinner. Honey was supposed to come over tonight but had an upset stomach, so Brooke took a plate over to her.”
I head into the kitchen. “Did you already eat then? I’m going to La Pachanga to give Banks time to get that fucking thing out of here.”
“Yeah. I got off early tonight, so I came home and made dinner for Brooke.”
I roll my eyes.
“What? Why should she have to come home and make dinner every night?” he asks.
I shrug. “She shouldn’t. It’s just funny seeing you so owned by her.”
“Trust me, it’s worth it.It’s so damn worth it.” He hops onto the counter. “So what’s thisyou getting shut downstuff Banks was talking about?”
I look at my phone and scroll through my text messages so Moss doesn’t see my smile.
“Nothing,” I say. “We ran into Pippa Plum yesterday at Shade House.”
He whistles through his teeth.
You have no idea.I slide my phone in my pocket. “Go with me to grab dinner. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“And tell me about Pippa?”
I turn toward the door. “Sure. Why not?”
I might as well talk about her. I sure as hell can’t stop thinking about her.
7
PIPPA
“This is perfect,” I tell the hostess. “Thank you.”
Beachfront Boulevard is below us in its full Friday night glory as Kerissa and I take our seats. La Pachanga’s rooftop patio istheplace to be in Kismet Beach on the weekends. It’s tucked in an older building with poor outside lighting. That might seem sketchy. But tourists never seem to find the hidden gem, which makes the locals flock to it in droves.
“What can I get you two?” Jenny asks. “We’re slammed tonight, obviously. If I’m a little slow, forgive me.Please.”
I laugh. “Coming from a person who used to wait tables and flirted with entirely too many nervous breakdowns in the storage room, I already forgive you.”
“Yeah, we have nowhere to be,” Kerissa says. “If you need to pass us to take care of someone else, we’re good.”
Jenny’s shoulders fall. “You’re a godsend. What can I get you guys to drink?”
“I’ll have a coconut lime margarita,” I say immediately, having already made this decision on the way home from work.
Kerissa’s eyes go wide. “Well, on that note, I’m having water.”
“Water?Come on. We’re drinking. I’ve had a hell of a day, and I need you to drink with me. Solidarity tequila. You know how it works.”
“The last time we hadsolidarity tequila, I woke up with a tattoo, your belly button was pierced, and the only way we know who did it was because there was a receipt in your pocket,” Kerissa says.
