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“Done so soon, Lottie?” Sarah asked, her dark eyes glinting as she glanced up and caught me watching her.
I grinned and lifted myself up to sit on the clean table. At least I had speediness on my side. “Perfection doesn’t have to take all day. That’s why I only spend five minutes in front of the mirror each morning.”
The slight disapproving purse of her lips was almost funny. That was, until she looked up at me and smirked, murder in her eyes. “Do you also put your makeup on in the dark? Because that might explain why you look like a drag queen today. You really should let me teach you how to do your eyeshadow someday. I’d be happy to help.”
Heat filled my cheeks. I wrapped my arms around my waist, trying not to give in to the desire to wilt under her insults. Sarah was a master at mental sabotage. She’d spoken just loud enough for me to hear her clearly, but not loud enough to alert Ms. Gentry standing only two tables over. Not that Ms. Gentry would do anything if she found out. I had the feeling she was a grown-up version of mean girls like Sarah Claiborne. She’d probably take her side.
There was no use sticking around to take her verbal assault. Sliding off the table, I wandered around the perimeter of the arts and craft building to eventually join my mom, Lexi, and Beth still sitting in folding chairs in the audience. Lexi and Mom were engaged in a very animated discussion about the art of hair teasing. Beth had her air pods on and was still glued to her phone.
“Done, baby?” Mom asked as I took the seat next to her.
I shook my head. “Not yet. Ten more minutes and it’ll be ready to come out of the oven. The timer’s on my phone. I won’t miss it.”
She patted my knee. “You did great up there. I watched you beat those eggs like a pro. Maybe someday, you’ll want to join me in the kitchen at the diner.”
I scrunched my nose and held up my hands. “Do you seriously not remember the time I nearly burned down the diner making toast?”
Her blue eyes narrowed as her eyes glazed over with memory. “Oh. Yeah.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” I said with a laugh. “First, the competition. Then, maybe...possibly...in a few years...I’ll think about helping in the kitchen again.”
She laughed and nodded in agreement, tweaking my cheek gently.
Lexi popped up from the other side of her. “Come on, Char. We’ve got ten minutes for Operation Cowboy. That’s plenty of time to accomplish a little flirting. Let’s go.”
“Operation Cowboy?” I stared at my mom, wide-eyed, as Lexi pulled me from my chair with surprising force for someone so small. I was hoping for a little motherly intervention, but she just smiled knowingly, then looked away. So much for that. “F-f-flirting? I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“Sure you are.” She nodded and set her jaw like a mini-Joan of Arc, then led us toward the judges’ table. “Last night we laid the plans. Now, we act. I’ll help. I’ll be your wing-woman. There’s Graham. Let’s do this.”
Before I could dig my Sketchers into the fading linoleum tile, we’d arrived. All three guys looked incredibly bored. Hunter cradled his cheek with his right hand, his elbow propped up on the table as his eyes drooped. Rhett snored softly, using his massive arms as a pillow. And Graham played with his phone, grinning at something he was typing.
“Hi, Graham.” Lexi dropped her hand from my arm and stood in front of him, tapping the toe of her flip flop on the ground until he dragged his eyes away from his screen to look up at her. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” I didn’t miss the slight hesitation in his eyes before he covered it up with an oily smooth grin. “How you ladies doing?”
“Oh, we’re good.”
She elbowed me hard in the rib. I gasped, drawing Graham’s dark gaze to my face. Right then and there, I decided that Lexi was officially evil. With a slight whimper and an apologetic smile, I nodded at him.
“Good. We’re doing good. Really good. Perfectly good.”
His brow furrowed slightly. “Right...”
So much for Operation Cowboy. This was Operation Humiliation. I didn’t know how to flirt. That was Lexi’s territory. She could flirt with a brick and get its phone number. I was hopeless.
Still, Lexi wasn’t giving up easily. As the silence stretched awkwardly between us, she gave me a heated glare that could’ve fried an egg on my face.
“So...Graham...what events do you ride in for the rodeo?” I asked, shrugging at her. My question seemed to cool her off slightly. She glanced expectantly at Graham, a soft smile on her face.
“Bull and bronc,” he said, perking up enough to abandon his phone for a second on the table.
I bit my lower lip. “Sounds dangerous.”
He chuckl
ed and cocked his head to one side. “I prefer the dangerous events. They’re the big prize winners. I leave the sissy events to the pansies like Rhett here.”
Rhett grunted in his sleep and Graham’s grin grew a bit wider.
