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The dark-haired woman who’s got that air of a narc about her smiles. “Nadia.”
I zero in on her. “Do you work with the bully?”
“Nope, just kids.”
“Knew it. A narc.”
She laughs. “Or teacher as we’re otherwise known.”
“Same thing,” I say. Christ, am I meant to entertain them all day?
Avah bumps shoulders with me. “These guys are very protective, that’s all. I’m with Nicolo, and Nadia and Diego just got back together. So, we know the drill.”
“Sit at home and be good little girls?”
This time, Nadia shakes her head. “Hardly, but you gotta pick your battles, and this one isn’t it. This one is because you snuck out the window. Not a smart battle to fight. Tizio . . . what I know of him is he runs a tight ship. My advice is to learn the rules and how to play them.”
“A narc with a devious streak, that I can get behind.” I point at her right as the doorbell rings.
Nadia answers it, and a man in a suit is there with some delivery guy and about ten grocery bags, some of them cold bags.
Two things. He must have ordered food, and he doesn’t even trust a delivery guy.
When everything’s inside, and the security man leads the delivery guy back down the path, we take everything to the kitchen.
“What did he get?” I stare at the array of things as we unpack.
There’s a load of vegetables, tofu, and a tofu press, like Tizio bought a tofu press. There’s rice, pasta, and quinoa. There are leafy greens and tomatoes. Peppers, goat’s cheese, and cheddar. There are cans of beans, lentils, and chopped tomatoes. Fridge tubs of soup. Croissants. Steak . . . the list goes on.
“Who does he think I am?”
“I don’t think he knows yet.” Avah picks up a jar of olives and a bottle of kefir. “So, I think he touched all the bases.”
Nadia laughs as she unpacks flour, butter, nut meal, sugar, chocolate chips, and eggs. “All the bases.” She looks at me. “Do you bake?”
“Do I look like a housewife waiting to happen?” I cross my arms. “I don’t bake.”
But Avah grins. “I do. Sort of. And he didn’t get cookies or anything like that.”
“I knew he was evil,” I mutter.
Avah looks at us both. “Wanna bake?”
The ladies are fine, in fact, they’re fun, and though they might be worlds apart from me in life stories, I think I wouldn’t mind calling them friends. But it’s not like I can do anything, which is the point.
The cookies are cooling, and Avah’s making scones because they’re easy. She figures since she found a cake pan, we can make one of those next.
I look at Nadia. “She’s a maniac.” I hold up the sugar bag, and there’s still so much in there. I’ve even filled the sugar bowl.
Maybe he bought this much sugar because he likes a lot of sugar in his coffee. A shiver passes through me.
Does that mean he’s planning on hanging around here having his morning coffee?
Thank goodness my phone blares a pop song, and I hurry to answer it. “Hey, Laura.”
“Wanna go shopping?”
“I can’t. I’ve got guests.” There’s really no other way to explain this without getting in deep.
