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I waited until my drink arrived and I’d gulped a mouthful. It burned as it went down, but felt good. “I’m not particularly fond of you either. I think you’re righteous and annoying.”
Nora smiled as she brought her wine to her lips. “You seem fond ofpartsof me. I caught your eyes wandering a few times this morning at breakfast.”
“I also stared at the picture you posted on your blog. But you were wearing a skin-tight, rubber unitard. The fucking birds were staring. Doesn’t mean I like you.”
She shook her head and laughed. “Well, seems like we’re going to have to find a way to tolerate each other, since we both care for your grandmother. Maybe we should shake hands and make peace.”
“Or…” I waited until she looked at me. “We can hate-fuck each other and get it out of our systems.”
“Hate-fucking seems to be a theme with you. Is that your thing?”
“Never has been before. But you piss me off, and it makes me want to rip your clothes off.”
Nora looked down at my crotch and sighed. “Such a shame you’re Louise’s grandson. Because I’m rather fond of part of you, too.”
I smirked. “Maybe you should see that part up close. Right in your face works for me.”
She laughed and finished her wine before turning to me and extending a hand.
“Friends?”
I took her hand, but rather than shake, I lifted it to my lips and nipped her finger.
“Oww!”
I kissed the area and grinned. “If you insist. Though I like my idea better.”
“I bet you do…”
Not wanting to be a complete pig, I refocused on a safer topic. “So…I’ve never seen you around. How long have you lived at Vestry?”
“Vestry?”
“Vestry Towers. My grandmother said you lived in her building.”
“Oh, yeah.” She shook her head. “Right. Not too long. About a year, maybe. I’m moving back to California soon. That’s where I’m from. I moved to New York for college and never went back.”
We were quiet for a minute. “Can I ask you something without you getting pissed?”
She smiled. “Probably not. But go ahead anyway.”
“I asked you earlier why you were taking this trip—”
“Actually,” she interrupted. “You asked me what I wasgetting out of it, like I was playing some sort of an angle.”
“Right.” I nodded. “Perhaps my delivery wasn’t so pleasant. I’m sure my staff would attest that I have a habit of speaking bluntly, which can occasionally be off-putting.”
“I’m guessing it’s more than occasionally.”
“How about if I ask my question this way: When you found out my grandmother was planning this trip, what made you decide to join her?”
Nora stared into her wine glass. “My mother passed away at a young age, only a few years older than I am now. Thinking about that has made me consider things differently. Instead of asking why should I go, I now ask myself whyshouldn’tI go? Life is short.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
“Do you mind if I ask how she died?”
