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She’d defended me. Not the other way around. She also made Lacey look like a bitch through flattery.
I was hard as a fucking rock.
“What was that, tiger?” I asked, still a little bewildered.
She shrugged, acting if nothing happened. “It was nice meeting Lacey. I can see what you mean about the fake cheekbones. They’re a little too much, don’t you think?”
“A little too much? Her cheekbones? You know she was trying to start a fight.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Then how–”
“There are six phrases that can be used in any conversation.”
“Um… what?”
“I find a little time outdoors makes me reflect on the little things.”
I stopped because I had no idea what the fuck that meant. When the people walking behind us weaved around us in the middle of the sidewalk, I took Aspen’s arm and moved her closer to a bike rack out of the way.
“I don’t know what the hell that means,” I told her.
“Exactly. That’s phrase number one, but it didn’t apply with Lacey.”
I blinked. “Okay.”
“Phrase two. History has shown we’re only human.”
“I’m not sure Lacey is human,” I replied.
She pointed at me. “Exactly. I’m for girl power and all but what’s the deal with those eyelashes? We might have to get the animal activists in on it because I think she uses real caterpillars.”
A laugh escaped before I could even try to stop it. I glanced around. We were on a busy street in LA. No one was paying us any attention.
I scratched my head and couldn’t help but smile. I was bemused and befuddled and definitely in awe. “Phrase three?” I wondered, all of a sudden very interested in Aspen’s conversation strategy.
“The one I used on Lacey. A community is as rich as its people.”
“And the others?”
She shrugged. “Similar vague statements, but you get the idea.”
“She wanted drama,” I said. “To catch me angry or whatever.”
Aspen gave one decisive nod, then blew on her tea. “I know. The easiest way to diffuse a situation like that is to make the bad guy look like the good guy. They don’t know what hit them.”
“How on earth do you know this? Psych classes in college?”
“You learned to raise cows… wait, is it cows or corn in Nebraska?” she asked, her brow crinkling.
“Both,” I said, a smile pulling at my lips.
“Right. Cows and corn. Well, I learned from the best. My mother could give Sam a few pointers.”
“She’s in PR?”
She waved the question off. “Something like that. But I can hold my own at a dinner party with bigwigs. Lacey’s a piece of cake in comparison.”
