AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She smacks my hand like I’m a toddler when I reach for it.
“Get your own,” she says, but there’s a little humor in her tone rather than the usual ire that’s directed at me.
I know not to mistake the giddiness as a reprieve. The woman is just excited to try all the teas.
I watch, sipping the soda I now regret ordering, as she opens a straw and sticks it into the first tea, capping the top with her finger before lifting it to her mouth and letting it drain across her tongue like I’ve seen numerous bartenders do to make sure a drink is made correctly.
I swear on everything holy that this woman is purposely trying to torture me, but then I’m struck with a wave of guilt at the memory of her telling me thatit’s not her fault I can’t control the way I react to people. She all but called me rapey and gross, although it was implied.
I take a deep breath, puffing my lips out when I release it.
I could make a sport of watching her enjoy things. Now that I know speaking ruins her experience, I choose to remain silent and just enjoy the show, finding myself smiling when she does and scrunching my nose the same way when she discovers that she made a mistake in ordering what looks to be dragon fruit and lime.
“Is it gross?”
Her answer is in the way she slides the drink in my direction. I stare down at it, the straw she lifted to her mouth in it, feeling more intimate than it probably should.
Just as I reach for the glass, my phone rings.
“You going to answer that?” she asks with the straw to the lemon blueberry tea hovering over her mouth.
I rush to pull out my phone, catching it right before it goes to voicemail.
My heart races for a whole different reason when I lift it to my ear.
“Emily? What’s wrong?”
“Where are you?” she growls. “The guy at the front desk won’t tell me what room you’re in.”
I tilt my head, confusion clogging my brain for having to switch gears so quickly.
“Can we get these to go?” Madison asks as the waitress begins to pull our food from her tray. “I’d be so appreciative if you could bag it for us.”
The waitress gives her a smile before nodding and walking away to do her bidding.
“We’re at lunch. Where are the boys?”
“Here with me, idiot,” she growls. “Why are you at lunch?”
I stand from the table. “It’s what people do when they’re hungry. Stay there. We’re coming back.”
I end the call, angry that she wasted our time.
“Drink this,” Madison says, holding up the lemon blueberry tea, a sad offering that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy right now if I wanted to.
“No thanks,” I grumble, looking toward the kitchen.
I want to be gone now, but I know the boys are safe. Madison was so excited to try the food, I don’t want to deprive her of it, although it won't be the same once she gets the chance to eat.
“Can I help with anything?” the sweet hostess asks as she comesto the table.
“Can you run my card, and can I get this in a to-go cup?” Madison asks, her voice syrupy sweet as she hands her card over.
The hostess nods, taking the lemon blueberry tea from her hands.
“You didn’t have to pay,” I grumble.
She laughs. “You invited me to lunch. I’m not paying. That was your card.”
