Page 67 of Dahlias, Sapphires, and Cool Autumn Dusk
For real?I blinked, surprised at how different his description was from reality. “I don’t see you that way at all. I am so sorry if you’ve felt that way.” I wouldn’t call him a liar, even if it didn’t match with my mental image.
He replaced his hands with his lips, kissing my stomach. “Thank you.”
Tiffany lookedhungover on our coffee meetup. I sipped my chai and tried to pretend it didn’t bother me. I’d never had friend time with another girl before, so I tried to focus on the high points instead of my frustration.
“How do you do it?” she asked as she leaned back in her chair. “How do you hang out with Phoenix and stay sober?”
“It’s not really an option for me, ” I answered honestly without thinking, and then I wished I’d said anything else.
She perked up, radar focused on my confession. “Why, are you some kind of addict? Dating Phoenix will be hard.”
Wow. She is tricky. First impressions can be so wrong. She struck me as the nice one, and Phoenix had suggested our friendship. She might have more in common with her snake boyfriend than I initially thought. Not to mention, she knew Murial had summoned me upstairs, didn’t come with me, and didn’t even think to tell Phoenix what happened to me. This despite her being supposedly convinced we were together and desperate for news about him.
I wished now that I hadn’t come to coffee.
The Poor Relation would have seen through her act sooner, but I sometimes seemed slower on the uptake.
Aloud, I said, “I’m not an addict, but I don’t trust people. You heard about my aunt’s boyfriend. If I wasn’t sober, I don’t know how that would’ve turned out. As for Phoenix, who said I’m dating just him?”
She laughed. “Can you imagine someone trying to take on more than just Phoenix Lent? Alone, he has got to take a ton of energy to maintain. He’s probably like my Hal.”
A ton of energy to maintain?I wondered if she wasn’t mean or manipulative but instead just overwrought.
I’d based my opinions on first impressions for years, thinking shoes told the stories. Despite my theory, I’d read Tiffany wrong. I’d read Bethany wrong. Murial…I didn’t think I had read her wrong. Maybe I didn’t understand shoes in New York City? Maybe shoes were different in San Francisco and Chicago.
Or maybe I‘m just not as smart and clever as I pretend.
I decided to be blunt. “Did Hal ask you to get information on Phoenix? Let’s just lay the cards on the table.”
She winced. “I’m not very subtle, am I?”
“Nope.” I sipped my drink, enjoying the way the chai’s spices filled up my tastebuds.
“Sure, Hal wants to know about Phoenix. He misses him. I know he thinks he fucked up, but I don’t even know what he did.He won’t tell me or talk about it.” I kept my expression blank, so she wouldn’t guess I knew. I could and would keep Phoenix’s private life private, his secrets safe with me. “But he got excited when Phoenix said we should be friends. He figured it was an olive branch.”
I shrugged. “I think Phoenix figured we had something in common. He didn’t think you participated in a lot of the bullshit, and he wouldn’t use me in some secret conversation with Hal. If Hal wants to talk to Phoenix, he should do that instead of trying to send you through me.” I pushed back my chair. “I hope you feel better, Tiffany. I’ll see you at school.”
Her face crumpled, and she reached for my arm. “Listen, I do want to be friends. I mean, I don’t really have any friends, I guess. It’s been a long time for me. I’m semi popular, so I’m invited places, but then again I’m with Hal. Hal brings the drugs.”
“I won’t ever tell you anything about Phoenix Lent. Not one thing. If you still want to be my friend despite that, let me know. Otherwise, we tried. No harm, no foul.” I smiled, but I could feel the lack of warmth in my expression, more for the act than any genuine emotion.
I’d never had something to protect besides myself before. But I would protect what was mine.
“Doyou think I’m dressed okay?” I asked Jeremy as we walked toward the side entrance of the Met.
I had visited the museum twice over the summer, but I didn’t know Murial’s plan. I had no idea how to dress, or even what she might want.
So I opted for a black dress, simple cotton. I pulled on a khaki overcoat to keep warm on the walk home. Other than that, I wore black tights and black slip-on shoes and left my hair straight and down. It probably wouldn’t stay that way, likely to frizz at the humidity. I added Jeremy’s pearls and Phoenix’s sapphires, my secret confidence boosters.
“You look beautiful.” He squeezed my fingertips, dropping a quick kiss on my temple. “Don’t let her make you nervous. If she’s shitty, we’ll leave.”
He wore khakis, a blue business type shirt and a darker navy blazer—surfer dude turned finance bro by just a wardrobe change.
I asked, “Meaning she can’t hold me prisoner?”
He laughed. “No one will ever hold you prisoner.”
Curious, I asked, “Hey, have you ever surfed?”
