“How are you? Truly?” Jill asks. “I can’t imagine how hard things have been for you.”
Clearly Jill knows about Garrett, and she seems to care.
“It’s been tough, but I’m slowly transitioning to my new normal. Not easily, but one day at a time it’s improving.”
“I’m just so sorry.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. It’s never easy encountering someone for the first time since Garrett’s passing.
“I appreciate it, Jill.”
“You ladies need to experience The Communes in all its glory. Let your hair down and party until everything closes down at nine.”
Laughter bubbles from her chest. “The after-hour parties are the best.” She winks, and I have to wonder what goes on at these after-hour parties.
“You look great, by the way,” she compliments, her smile widening as she glances down at my legs.
I fidget in place, feeling awkward.
What she’s seeing is a very well-designed pair of yoga pants that make me look like I lost five pounds instantly, as they suck everything in.
Ava bought them for me for Christmas, and I will be getting at least two additional pairs.
“Thank you. I appreciate that,” I reply, resisting the urge to divulge the secret behind my seemingly trim figure. I’m eager to steer the conversation away from this increasingly strange topic.
“We’ll make plans tomorrow. You girls have a good night,” she says, waving a hand in the air. “See you at eleven.”
She saunters away, her hips swaying in a manner that seems deliberately attention seeking. It’s classic Jill Kincaid—she’s always been a glory hound and total hell-raiser. Looks like not much has changed.
I shake off the discomfort caused by Jill’s overt appraisal of my body and head straight for the wine aisle. I grab three bottles, but then decide to grab another one.
We’re definitely going to need it.
“That was delicious,”I say, slumping back into the cream wingback chair, stuffed to an uncomfortable degree.
“It’s been a long while since I’ve had lasagna,” Nina comments, likely remembering all the times that her dipshit ex scolded her about her food choices. “The perfect comfort food.” She sighs contentedly.
We’ve enjoyed ourselves through dinner, keeping the conversation light, with me doing the bulk of the heavy lifting. I’ve caught her up on my time spent with Ava before she returned to school and the party that she claims nobody has stopped talking about.
“When is her spring showcase?” Nina asks, tapping her mouth with a red napkin.
“April, but I can’t remember the exact date off the top of my head.”
“That’s exciting. I bet hers will be the best.”
I smile, thinking about all the work she’s put into her project already. She hasn’t allowed me to see it, but she’s told me about every single hour spent piecing it together.
“It’s going to be quite the ordeal,” I say, wiping my mouth with my napkin. I set it on the table, prepared to shift the conversation to her.
“What happened back at the store with Jill? You clearly saw something you didn’t like.”
Nina takes a dainty sip of her merlot, licking her lips once she’s swallowed. “Caught that, did you?”
I tilt my head and smirk. “Spill the details,” I press, but she only chuckles, keeping her secrets.
My impatience shows as I make a face, hoping she gets the message. Eventually, she gives in, sighing and placing her hands in her lap.
“When I touched her…I saw a montage of her sleeping with half The Communes.” She clicks her tongue, squinting one eye. “Both men and women.”
