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Her grandmother raised her eyebrows. “Ooh, a politician. Spicy.”
“It’s not like he’s an elected official,” Sonia said dismissively, though she knew Brendan did want to run for office. Ian liked to joke about it:My brother, our future president.“He’s just a dumb, pretty former jock who peaked in college.”
“Really?”
“Eh.” Sonia shrugged. “It’s just for this week. After Sunday, we’re done.”
“You sound very certain of that.”
“I already told him the terms and conditions.”
“Did he sign a waiver?”
Sonia grinned, getting a colander from the cupboard and setting it in the sink. “Only the standard NDA.”
“Who is he?”
“Oh, you know. This guy.”
“This guy,” Adrienne repeated. “I hopethis guyknows what he's doing in the bedroom.”
“I wouldn't bother with him if he didn't.”
“So bring him here!” Adrienne said. “I told you when you moved in that I didn't want to cramp your style.”
“And I toldyouI didn't want to bring men home while you watch TV in your room,” Sonia retorted.
A cloud of steam rose as she poured the penne into the colander. Adrienne would be safely out of the house tonight, going to a play and then getting drinks. Sonia knew her grandmother wouldn’t object to Brendan coming over, but she didn’t want to discuss it.
“There's an entire hallway and a bathroom between us,” her grandmother said serenely. “I know what's it like to be twenty-three, Sonia. Believe it or not, I remember. Don't I give you your space?”
“Sure. And I respect yours. So I'd rather not bring my dirty laundry home when you’re around.”
“Dirty laundry,” Adrienne mused. “This is how my granddaughter talks about men.”
Sonia snorted. “In this town? Absolutely. Seems like everyone's hiding a skeleton in their closet.”
“You’re not wrong. Damn politicians.” Adrienne pushed her chair back, coming over to sniff the simmering sauce. “Let’s talk about love instead. With that wedding coming up…”
“Ugh, let’s not.” Sonia turned the burner off and clapped a lid on the sauce.
Her grandmother grinned. “Diana’s fiancé has a brother, doesn’t he? I saw him at your graduation last May. Oh, I definitely remember those twin boys. Very good-looking.”
Sonia grunted, setting two placemats on the kitchen table.
“And I remember how you looked at him,” her grandmother went on, unperturbed. “He was looking at you too, every time he thought you wouldn’t notice.”
“Brendan? Grandma, please. The guy is a walking red flag.”
“He is a slick one,” her grandmother agreed. “Too charming for his own good. But so attractive! Built like a Greek god, and he knows it.”
Sonia let out a breath. “Exactly. I’ve never trusted him.”
Silverware clattered as she brought forks to the table. She pulled two cloth napkins through wooden napkin rings and arranged them on the placemats.
Did she really not trust Brendan? It was easier to say that. Safer. But from the minute he’d strolled into her dressing room on Saturday night, she'd felt those defenses crumbling.
And that was not fucking safe, to let Brendan O'Brian in.
