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Honey smirks. “I second that, but let’s shorten it to BS.”
Okay, so a millisecond, that’s how long.
“Hmm.” Gia mimes neatening a nonexistent goatee. “If you need my help with Operation BS, I also have one condition.”
There’s a churning in my stomach that isn’t due to my craving for French toast… or at least, not only that. All Hyman sisters barter in favors to some degree, but Gia could probably teach the Godfather a thing or two about the technique.
I rub the back of my neck. “What’s your demand?”
“Demand? More like a reasonable request.” Gia’s angelic expression doesn’t fool anyone—unless we’re talking fallen angel. “Lemon, you know what each of us does for a living, so all I want is for you to tell us what it is that you do.”
“You’re a genius,” Blue says to Gia in an overly loud voice. “I’ve been wondering for a while and was about to start seriously sleuthing.”
“What a great use of taxpayer money that would’ve been,” I mutter under my breath. “Spying on your own family.”
Honey slides to the edge of her chair. “Sorry, Lemon. I’ve been curious too. Dish.”
I debate whether coming out is worth their help. Maybe. Maybe not. The truth is, I’ve been wanting to open up to someone, and these three are a decent focus group if I want to know how the rest of the family will react to my chosen profession.
“Fine. I’ll tell you.” I down the mimosa and gulp in a deep breath—a mistake because the smell of something delicious nearby makes my belly rumble. Ignoring that, I take another breath and say, “My work is masturbation.”
