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“Wait,” Poppy stops stirring. “You punched Jay?”
I sheepishly hold up my bruised hand.
“Yes,” I say. “And I feel sixty percent terrible about it.”
Raya looks at Scarlett. “You must be Gray’s daughter.”
“I am.” Scarlett smiles. “Who are you?”
“Eloise’s sister,” she says sternly. “Raya.”
“That’s a cool name,” Scarlett says. “Eloise and Poppy and Raya. I like it!”
“Hey, Scarlett—” I cut in. “Why don’t we go in the den and find something cool to watch on TV?”
“But I’m licking spoons.”
“You’ll spoil your dinner,” I say, shooing her into the den, aware that my sisters exchange a glance at the irony. “Shut it, you two, I can feel your judgment.”
After I set Scarlett up with the TV remote, I walk back into the kitchen and Poppy and Raya stop talking. Clearly, they were talking about me and didn’t want me to hear. I plop down on a stool and slide a meat and cheese tray closer.
The only play here is to put my sister in the hot seat, otherwise, I’m going to get a lecture about violence in front of children, violence on the job, and probably a repeat of the lecture they’ve already given me about falling for your boss. So, I redirect with an opening volley.
“You going to tell us about that interview, Raya?”
“Oh, yeah,” Poppy says. “That’s right! Where was it and what was it for?”
Raya pulls a water bottle from the refrigerator and closes the door. “It was for an HR position.”
“Is that what you do?” I ask. “Like now for a job? I never actually knew.”
“I thought it was something with numbers,” Poppy says. “Or maybe spreadsheets?”
Raya looks perturbed. “How do you not know what I do for a living?”
Poppy: “I never understood when you told me.”
Me: “I never listen to you when you talk.”
Poppy and I both giggle.
“Oh, you two are hilarious.” Raya uncaps the bottle and takes a drink like she’s a dainty woman who isn’t really thirsty. That bottle is a prop, meant to occupy her hands. And it makes me wonder what she’s not saying. “I manage people. At a big investment firm.”
I wince. “Yikes, really?”
Her eyes widen. “I’m very good at what I do.” Her tone is defensive.
“But you’re so not personable,” I say, softening the half-truth with a grin and a pump of my eyebrows.
“Funny,” Raya says.
My grin widens. “Thank you.”
“So, what, you don’t like it anymore?” Poppy asks.
Raya shrugs. “This job opened up, and it sounded like a nice change.”
I frown. “I didn’t know you wanted a change.”
