“Thanks.” She avoids touching me the way Superman might avoid touching kryptonite.
The thought lifts my mood. At least I’m not alone.
“No problem,” I say and return her smile.
She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear and clears her throat. “So, tomorrow? Pick me up at six thirty?”
“Yes. It’s a date.”
She holds up a finger. “It’snota date.”
I nod, my eyes on her mouth. “Figure of speech.”
“And I meant it. No kissing,” she says with an arched eyebrow and a stern set to her mouth.
She’s killing my pride. I scoff. “Honestly? It’s the last thing on my mind.”
Her expression puckers at the taste of her own medicine. I have to bite my cheek to keep from laughing.
“Well, that’s a relief.” She gives me a stiff smile and slings her bag over her shoulder. She’s been gone for five whole minutes before I realize what I forgot.
I text her. “I need your full legal name to put you on the guest list.”
She writes back. “Arsinoé Ama Sackey. And thank you again.”
“The pleasure is all mine.”
It is the truest thing I’ve said all day.
Chapter Thirty
Sin
Paranoid
“Why haven’t you replied to my text?” I demand when my brother finally answers his phone. “I sent it half an hour ago.”
“Because I haven’t seen it. I’ve been peeling onions for this nonsensical lunch Ma is throwing.”
I snicker at his characterization. “What’s the occasion?” I turn around in front of my floor-length mirror and run a critical eye down the line of my back and my ass.
“She wants to show off the new deck and hot tub.” He does a perfect imitation of the aggressively British accent my mother puts on in front of company.
I cackle. If keeping up appearances was an Olympic sport, our dear mother would be a gold medalist.
“It’s not funny,” he says through his own laughter. “I can’t wait to leave, too.”
I hear myself in his pity-pocked griping, and I say what I wish someone had said to me back then. “I feel your pain. It sucks not being able to prioritize yourself. Your time is coming. But right now…” I let out a deep breath and turn back to the mirror. “Mine is running out. I need your help. Please, Don?”
“Begging doesn’t suit you. Hold on.”
“Thank you. But can you hurry? I’ve been trying to reach you foran hour.”
“Damn. Can a man wash his hands first? I swear, the three of you act like I’m your house boy.”
“Adonis, stop complaining,” I snap. “I have an important event for work and you’re the only person I trust to tell me the truth.”
“You don’t act like it, but I’m glad you appreciate my gifts. Let me see what you sent.”
