“I know. It’s awesome,” her friend said, linking arms with Riley.
Minutes later, an embarrassing smorgasbord of sushi ordered, Jasmine put down her tea, looked at Sesame, and became a girlfriend interrogator. “So six years pretend-married to a stranger. What was that like? Was it horrible? Did you throw all his shit out on the lawn when you found out what he’d done? Did you drive his car through the garage door?”
“Excuse my friend,” Riley said to Sesame. “Jasmine is valued for her loyalty and her vengeance.”
“I T-boned Griffin ‘I’m a Real Boy’s car after he sued Riley for breaking his face,” Jasmine explained.
Sesame looked down at her chopsticks, and Riley wished she could sense what the woman was feeling.
“I didn’t do any of those things.”
“He kidnapped you and made you think you were his wife for six years, meanwhile your family thought you were dead, and you didn’t at least line his underwear with itching powder?”
Riley was torn between wanting the answer herself and not letting Jasmine push Sesame too far. They’d bonded today, sure. But was it enough of a bond to talk about real things?
“Have you ever been in love for real?” Sesame asked suddenly.
“Oh, sure. Dozens of times,” Jasmine answered with a wave of her hand.
“Just once for me. I thought he loved me. But when the chips were down and he had to choose, he chose his family over me.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Riley said.
“Want us to make him sorry?” Jasmine offered.
Sesame flashed a sad little smile and shook her head. “Sometimes moving forward is better than wallowing in hurt…or getting revenge,” she added quickly.
“Well, if you ever decide you want that guy singing soprano for the rest of his life, you let me and Riley know,” Jasmine said.
Sesame gave them a sad smile. “I will.”
The sushi arrived on a platter that took up most of the table.
Riley had just popped a picture-perfect piece of salmon avocado roll into her mouth when she spottedhimthrough the window. The guy from the antique store. Except this time, his face wasn’t obscured by a raffia fan. And this time she recognized him.
She sucked in a breath and some wasabi and began coughing violently.
“Uh-oh,” Sesame said. “Did you choke on your spit again?”
Riley shook her head, tears burning her eyes as the green ball of wasabi seared itself into her lungs. “Goatee,” she wheezed.
“Goat? There’s no goat in the sushi,” Jasmine insisted.
“Here.” The server returned with another large glass of water. “It happens all the time.”
Still shaking her head, Riley grabbed the water and started chugging. Between wracking coughs and wheezy breaths, the burn began to subside.
When she finally managed to look up, the man was gone.
“We need to go. Now,” she rasped.
“Oooh, you should record a new voice mail greeting right now. You sound all sexy and hoarse like Mila Kunis,” Jasmine observed.
Riley slapped her hand down on the table. “We need to go.”
“She sounds upset,” Sesame said to Jasmine.
“I’m not leaving without my Hawaii roll,” Jasmine insisted.
