Page 66 of For Butter or Worse
He nodded in reply, but his stomach turned at the thought of it.
“You have to kiss me before I go.” She was on her tiptoes as she whispered the words into his ear.
He closed his eyes and savored the feel of her lips against his skin. He was overwhelmed with the thought that this could be their last kiss. She could go home, decide to call off the whole thing and run back to her ex.
So when he leaned down to kiss her, he let his true emotions escape through his lips. He pulled her in so their bodies were flush. If this was goodbye, he wanted her last memory of him to be a good one. His hands found their way through her hair. She wrapped her arms around his back and he felt the familiar tug of her nails digging into him.
When he pulled away, her cheeks were flushed. She showed him a small grin, and that gave him a renewed sense that he could get through the loss of her. Because even if he’d managed to make her happy just this once, that could be enough to carry him the rest of the way through their arrangement.
He opened her car door, and she got in without saying a word. As the car drove away, he thought he saw her turn in her seat to look straight at him.
25
NINA
Nina knew that joining Jasmine at the arboretum to talk to her parents about the gala wasn’t necessary. But Jasmine had mentioned she was going. Then Sophie texted that she could join. And Nina said she’d come, too, because she didn’t want to be left out.
So now Nina and Sophie were driving up together in the safety of a four-door car, while Jasmine cruised there on her motorcycle, which had zero doors.
“Have you heard anything about whether spicy foods actually help you go into labor?” Sophie asked.
Nina raised an eyebrow. If she didn’t already know that her sister was asking for a client, she’d be concerned. “Assuming this is a work question?”
“Yeah.” Sophie gave a small laugh. “One of my clients is almost a week past her due date, and she’s itching for some at-home remedies.”
“Your massages aren’t doing the trick?” Nina asked.
Sophie specialized in pre-and postnatal massage. Which was weirdly not a service that was widely offered or done correctly. She’d found a rewarding niche helping women who needed relief from the constant ache in their backs, feet and...well, everything. Not to mention the effects that birth wreaked on their bodies afterward. Sophie had told her so many stories in the last year about women who’d come to her after being injured by a masseuse at a spa who wasn’t properly trained. She was glad her sister could provide a much-needed service.
“She’s got a little mole who doesn’t want to come out, I’m afraid.” Sophie sipped at a matcha she’d brought with her. “And my induction pressure points don’t seem to be helping, either.”
“At least she has you to help with the aches. I don’t know anything about the spicy food trick. But Jitlada makes the spiciest Thai food in town, if she wants to cry while eating.”
“I’ll let her know,” Sophie said. “Also, if you get any more of that fancy olive oil in, I want to give it a try. One of my new moms has a C-section scar that’s causing her a lot of pain. I want to show her how to massage it before bed every night, but she’s very into natural oils. I remember Mom putting that Ojai olive oil on any cuts we got to minimize the scars.”
“I actually did get some in last week. I’ll give you a bottle when we get back.” Nina gave her sister a quick glance, then refocused on the road. “I think it’s really cool that you can help other women this way. We need someone looking out for us. Mom always said she hated being pregnant. I bet if she’d had someone like you in her life, she wouldn’t have minded as much.”
“You help women, too, ya know.” Sophie squeezed her shoulder. “Your kitchen is mostly women.”
“I could be doing more. I’d like to help the way you’re helping.” She felt fulfillment from hiring women to help her run the kitchen, but she’d always sensed she could do more to lift up other women.
“Maybe we can brainstorm some ways to do that,” Sophie said.
Nina briefly smiled at her sister. “That would be awesome, Soph, thanks.”
They parked and walked to the ticket gate, where Jasmine was rocking from one foot to the other. She seemed on edge, which made sense. She hadn’t ever told her parents how their needling made her feel. This would be a first for her.
“Tickets?” a teenaged boy in a wheelchair said from behind the booth.
“They should be under Jasmine Miles,” Jasmine said into the microphone piece.
“Oh, yeah, got you in the VIP pass box here,” he said. “Can I see your IDs, please?”
They all shuffled to grab their IDs. Only, Nina couldn’t find hers. “Shit,” she said.
“What?” Sophie asked.
“I switched purses.” Nina continued to rifle through her bag, as if that would change what she already knew. “I must’ve left my ID at home.”
