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“No.” Tatum cleared her throat. “She left.”
Tatum stiffened up, preparing herself for the pity that usually followed when she shared that fact. Everleigh only nodded.
“I wondered.”
“What do you mean?” Tatum asked her.
“Nothing, really.” Everleigh offered her a sad smile. “Just that in the Murphys’ world, I feel like you and I could be soul sisters.”
“The Murphys love you,” Tatum reminded her.
To her surprise, Everleigh nodded. “Yeah, this is all new to me.” She licked her lips and then sighed. “It’s just a little overwhelming at times.”
“They can be a bit much.”
“Tell me about you and Charlie.”
Tatum flinched at Everleigh’s demand. She’d let her guard down, and the girl’s question had taken her totally by surprise. Had she been wrong? Had Charlie sent Everleigh here to do a little fishing of his own?
“What?”
“What’s going on with you and Charlie?”
“Nothing.” Tatum narrowed her eyes at Everleigh. “Did he say something?”
“No. He just drools every time he comes in for coffee.” Everleigh giggled. “And it’s not the coffee he’s after.”
Tatum snorted and shook her head. “There’s nothing going on.”
“You don’t think he’s hot?”
“Sure, I do.” Tatum nodded. She saw no point in denying that Charlie Murphy was good-looking and sexy as hell. And if Everleigh asked, she would even say yes, she thought he was a nice guy. “But I’m not interested.”
“So, you’d be more into Sarah Murphy?” Everleigh quirked an eyebrow at her.
Tatum chuckled at Everleigh’s attempt to sneak in a personal question.
“No. I mean, I don’t know Sarah, but I’m assuming she’s gorgeous, too. But no, I’m not…I’m not in the market.”
“Everybody’s in the market for something,” Everleigh argued.
“So.” Tatum leaned forward and reached to pat Everleigh’s knee. Time to change the subject. “Are you okay? After talking to your mom?”
“Yeah. I just always feel…sideways…after we talk. She’s never been much of a mom. Maybe a friend, but even then, she’s competitive. She was happy to hear I’m working.”
“Did you tell her about Mal?”
“No.” Everleigh laughed and climbed from the couch to wander the room. “Because then she would have insisted she come and visit me. That she meet him.”
“Seems like a good thing for a mom to do,” Tatum said gently.
“No, because she would flirt with him. She’d say it was to test him, make sure he’s really into me. When in fact, it’s always about her. That she needs to feel attractive. Sexy.”
Tatum cringed. “I’m sorry.”
Everleigh squatted in front of Tatum’s bookcase now. “The Westin Game. I read that when I was in eighth grade.”
“Me, too,” Tatum answered. She’d read it out loud when she and Sutton were curled up together under the comforter on her bed. Sutton, only nine, had no interest in the story, but Tatum read aloud anyway, hoping the cadence of her voice would drown out the fighting, the horrible words exchanged between their parents.
