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“Sure. What time do you need me there?”
“Just before eleven would be great. Thank you.”
“Hey.” Garrett appeared at the end of the booth. And stopped and stared. Like seriously, the man gaped at me.
My shoulders slumped. “Not you too.”
“We haven’t met properly, have we? Hello, Garrett. I’m Cézanne.” She got to her feet. “If you’ll excuse me, it is time for me to go beat my husband at pool. You can take my seat, since I don’t need to be present for the words you two are about to exchange.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, before turning back to me. Then he licked his lips and sat down. “Busy in here tonight.”
I stirred my drink with the paper straw. “Get a haircut and put on a little makeup and the whole damn town loses their mind. And this is not some attempt to get into your pants, so take that look off your face. Holy shit.”
He opened his mouth and then audibly snapped it shut. Wise man.
“Just because I’m not wearing a tee.” I plucked at the shoestring strap on my navy linen top. “I like to be comfortable and I hate ironing. But wanting to be pretty occasionally for myself isn’t a crime.”
“Okay,” said Garrett eventually. Then he picked up my drink and downed a mouthful. “I needed that.”
“Well hey there, Ani,” said the minister from the local church. “Don’t you look all dressed up and pretty for a change?”
I gave him my best fake smile. “Thank you, Mr. Gardner.”
“Are we going to see you on Sunday?”
“No, Mr. Gardner. I hear it’s just fine in Hell this time of year. Guess I’ll take my chances.”
He waggled a finger at me like I was a naughty child and headed for his table.
“Jerk.” I scoffed. “Give me strength. They all think this is about you, but it’s really not. It was just time.”
Garrett rested his hands on the table with his fingers meshed. “You decided to stop hiding too.”
“Yeah.” I rested back against the bench. “It didn’t seem right to lecture you without doing some work on myself.”
“I can see that.”
“You know, I used to dress up sometimes when I was younger. They’ve forgotten. I used to wear lipstick and mascara and the occasional low-cut blouse with my jeans. It never used to cause this much of a fuss.”
“You’re allowed to dress how you like.”
“Yes, I am.” I finished off my drink. “I could just do without all of the attention.”
He gazed around the room. “They’re not looking at you anymore, they’re looking at me.”
I snorted. Then I checked. “So they are. Good work.”
“Apart from the guy over at the second pool table.” He scowled. “He needs to put his fucking eyes back inside his head.”
“That’s Christian. We went to school together. He was actually my first kiss when I was twelve,” I said. “By the end of school that day, he’d already dumped me for another. That’s when I learned that love doesn’t last.”
Garrett’s scowl did not improve.
Then he turned his head and took me in. From the carefully constructed messy bun on top of my head to my dark eyeliner, long lashes, and glossy lips. While I’d always had concealer around to deal with the scar on my neck, this was a whole new level of makeup artistry on display. I may or may not have had to watch several videos to remind me how to do it all right. His gaze lowered to the neckline of my camisole for a brief moment before returning to my face.
“Well?” I asked.
“You dressed up for yourself. Not because of me.”
“That’s right.”
He scratched at his stubble. “If I comment on how you look are you going to tear me a new one?”
“No. You’re permitted. I asked for your opinion.”
“Here we go.” Emma slid a couple more margaritas and an array of soft tacos, with guacamole and street corn, onto the table. “Hi, Garrett. Nice to see you again.”
He gave her the chin tip. “Emma.”
“Oh,” she said dreamily. “He knows my name.”
Once Emma left, I said, “I ordered for us. The kitchen tends to get busy on nights like this.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Looks good.”
“Wait until you taste it. Maria’s mom, Lupita, and Claude have taken over the kitchen tonight. It’s Maria and Danielle’s last night in town. They’re moving to San Francisco for work.”
“You mentioned something about that the other day.”
“Yeah. We spent last weekend packing up their place,” I said. “I’ll introduce you once the crowd around them calms down a little.”
He nodded.
“You never gave me your verdict on my appearance.”
“Hey, now.” He raised his brows. “What is this? Are you fishing for compliments?”
“Shut up, Garrett,” I grumbled. “Like I even care about your opinion.”
The hint of a smile made another appearance as he gazed around the room again. But it soon disappeared. A familiar guitar riff filled the room and the sound of Grace’s voice poured out of the jukebox. It was soon accompanied by Garrett singing about being high on love.
