“Such a lady.”
She pats my hand again before withdrawing hers.
Our friendship is slightly odd, and I’m sure half the people who see us think either she’s my grandma or I’m dating her for her money. Neither are true. She’s just an ornery lady who answered the Golden Years Dating ad.I can be a squirrel and help you bust a nut.
I snort.
“What?” she asks.
“I was just thinking about the message you sent me through the app.”
She laughs. “That was a good one, wasn’t it?”
“Has that ever worked on someone?”
“Oh, hell no. Men my age don’t know what to do with women who know what they want. But I’m not on that app to really find myself someone, you know? I’m just on there to entertain, to break up the day. And it’s good for a few laughs too.”
Becca comes to the table with a notepad in her hand. “Hey, you two. How are you?”
“We’re good,” Gloria says. “I’ll have a BLT with no mayo.” She looks at me. “The stuff tastes like puss mixed with paint.”
“Ew,” Becca says, wrinkling her nose.
“Well, mayo is out of the question now,” I say. “I’ll have a chicken sandwich with pickles. And a sweet tea.”
“Fries good for you both?” she asks.
We nod.
Instead of going to the kitchen, Becca lingers.
“You okay, Bec?” I ask.
“Just wondering how you’ve been.” She grins. “Innocently, of course.”
“Uh-huh.” I laugh. “Things have been tense, but we’re both still alive.”
Her grin turns into a smile as she walks away.
Gloria taps on the tabletop. “What was that about?”
I sit back in my chair and stretch my legs. I’m not sure if they ache from crouching under a car all morning or from the sexual energy stored up from last night.
Dammit anyway.
Gloria waits impatiently for me to explain myself.
“Becca’s friend, Sara, is staying at my house for a little while,” I say.
Her painted-on brows lift to the ceiling. “Is that so?”
“That is so.”
“Oh, well—tell me about her. Is she a little hottie?”
I laugh. “Yes, she is a little hottie. Not nearly as hot as you, but she’s okay.”
She puffs her hair with her right hand. “Of course she’s not as hot as I am.”