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I laugh and start the car. “Beau MacMillan is nothing special, Savannah. Just another suit.” A suit who was checking out my tits. I think.
“A suit with his eyes on your chest as he shook your hand.”
“He’s a guy. If I were shaking hands with a guy who had his dick out, I probably wouldn’t be making eye contact, either.”
She laughs. “How awkward would that hand shake be?”
I snort a laugh. “Awkward and likely illegal.”
“Yeah, but if he looked like Beau, I think the cops might let public indecency slide.” She gazes out her window at him. “In fact, I think it’s rather indecent that he must wear clothes at all.”
“Savannah!”
“There should be an ordinance in honor of a man with shoulders like that. The Beau MacMillan Should Be Naked All The Time Ordinance of Somerset Harbor.”
I put on my most grownup voice, as though I’m offended. “He is a client, and that is all. No more talk of naked clients. It is downright unprofessional.”
“Good thing I’m not your assistant,” she teases and giggles again, and then I catch it, too. We giggle all the way to the taco shop.
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9
ELSIE
The spiced scent of birria tacos permeates the air around Rita’s and my mouth waters in an instant. When our order comes up, I go to the window and bring it back to our bright orange picnic table. It has an even brighter yellow umbrella with some beer logo on it, and a box with high-quality paper napkins, along with two bottles of homemade hot sauce. The green sauce wants to melt my face, but the red sauce has a fruity and chocolaty quality to it. Delightful.
“Oh my god,” Savannah gushes while the taco grease pours down her hands. “This is incredible.”
“I know,” I moan. It’s too good. “This is worth the price of admission to Somerset Harbor. I would come back to this coastal grandma tourist town for these alone.”
She sips her pineapple soda. “Same here. But I also like it here. I did a little sightseeing while you were gone, and this place is adorable.”
“You find adorable everywhere you go.” The Mexican Coke is everything I needed to settle my stomach. Damn nerves.
“I do, but that’s because I have a better outlook on life than you do, always looking for the cracks like you do. Why do you do that, Elsie?”
“Experience.”
She makes a sour face at me, and on her, it doesn’t match. “Seriously. Why are you always so negative?”
It is not the first time she has asked me something similar, but it’s the first time I feel like telling the truth. “I need you to swear you won’t judge me for this.”
She gives the most perplexed, cat-eating-a-piece-of-lettuce look on her face. “When have I ever judged you for anything?”
“Never, it’s just...” I shrug. “Pretty sureIjudge me for it.”
“Oh, sweetie, no.” She reaches out for my hand, then stops. “Okay, I would normally give you a comforting hand squeeze right now, but with sauce all over my hands—"
“It’s appreciated all the same,” I tell her with a smile. But then the sigh comes out. “I think I’ve mentioned before that I’m from Virginia, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m from West Virginia.”
She thinks for a minute. “I don’t really know the area. Is that like the Lexington area?”
“No, you’re thinking of Kentucky. I mean the state of West Virginia, not the western side of Virginia.”
