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I pull her chair out, and she sits down. I slide into the seat next to hers, glance at the food, and question, "What is this?"
Fiona smirks. "It's Mexican. And I know you've eaten that type of food before, Tynan."
"Since when do we eat Mexican food at our dinner parties?" I ask, trying to remember if we've ever had it at one.
"That's why it's time to do it," Fiona claims.
Bridget smiles, interjecting, "She's been saying we need to expand our horizons and not be so Irish."
"Not be so Irish? What's wrong with ya?" I accuse.
Fiona rolls her eyes.
Sean Jr. shakes his head. "She thinks she's so elite now that she got signed with that agency."
"It's not just any agency. It's the top modeling agency in the world," Fiona states.
"They can't be if they took you on," he jeers.
She elbows him in the chest.
"Ya must get your attack skills from Maeve," I tease.
Maeve sits straighter, chirping, "Yea, it looks like ya got a good elbow."
Fiona beams. "It's from years of practice."
"You're so annoying," Sean mutters.
Maeve adds, "Congratulations by the way. I can't imagine how excited ya are to walk the runway and do all those fancy photo shoots!"
Fiona nods. "I am."
The maid lifts more lids off the platters, revealing chicken, shrimp, and steak fajitas. Other dishes have refried and pinto beans, enchiladas with verde sauce, pork carnitas, ground beef, and shredded chicken. Tortilla warmers hold soft shells. Hard shells are arranged on a platter. Several bowls of chips are on the table for easy access, along with salsa, guacamole, and white cheese dip.
Angleo states, "Wow, you've really put a spread on here."
"I created the menu," Fiona gushes with pride.
"It does smell good," I admit.
"Well, dig in," Dad orders, and everybody starts grabbing bowls.
Maeve and I fill our plates. Then, I hit the remote to increase the speed of the vibrator.
She shifts on her chair. I lean into her ear, murmuring, "Sorry, baby girl. I wouldn't want ya to be bored."
She smiles and then scoots her chair back. "Excuse me. I have to go to the loo."
I put my hand on her ass. "Didn't ya just go?"
"No, but are ya the potty police?"
I put my hands in the air. "By all means."
She leaves the table.
Dante asks, "Have you talked to Brody?"
