I drag a single fingertip over the roof of the car. "This is a crisis car."
He smirks. "I thought it was a Ciao Chariot."
A laugh bubbles up as I slide into the car. "If it is, you've officially rounded me up." Hugo produces a pair of sunglasses from his jacket pocket. Sliding them on, he says, "Don't worry, Gumshoe. I'm taking you to the spa."
Chapter 7
Mallory
Gumshoe.
He meant it in a friendly way. Teasing, even.
I can't help the flicker of warmth it puts in my chest.
"Are you blissed out?" Jolene's image is outside her phone's frame, but I hear her voice, and the hard close of a cabinet.
"It was incredible," I answer, adjusting myself on the hotel bed. "You missed out."
"I'll make it there eventually." Jolene steps into the frame, a microwave dinner balanced in her hand.
"Chicken marsala or burrito bowl?" I ask. I'm hungry again. The fare at the spa was delicious, but I need more than a harvest salad with salmon. As Hugo promised, the dressing was delicious.
"Burrito bowl." She takes a bite, then says, "Tell me more about Hugo."
"What else is there to tell?" We've already coveredwhat happened at Sammich, and this morning at breakfast.
She shakes her head, chewing. "Less recitation of events. More personal observations."
"Personal observations?" I reach behind myself, adjusting the pillows. The reel in my brain rolls back, serving up what little time I've spent with Hugo. "He's nice. Funny. Irreverent." The way he gently touched my hands, peeling my fingers off the teacup. "He's kind."
Jolene's nodding and chewing, so I keep talking. "I'm looking forward to meeting his mom."
"I still can't believe he asked you to come over." She pops the top on a ginger flavored soda water. "What kind of voodoo magic did you work on him? Are we sure this is the same person who ignored all your emails?" She gasps, eyes wide. "You showed him your boobs, didn't you? You hussy."
"He seemed apathetic toward my boobs, but when I showed him my pregnant belly, that's what did the trick."
Jolene laughs as she's taking a drink, and now she's sputtering. "Some dudes get turned on by pregnancy."
I run a hand over my belly. "He hasn't asked me anything about the baby since he saw my prenatal vitamins."
"Yeah, because he thinks you have a husband. Or partner. Or whatever. He assumes the person who got you pregnant is in the picture."
Something tells me if I told Hugo my situation, he'd be furious. I don't know him well, but a part of meunderstands he would never make the same choice as Peanut's father.
I can't dwell on that, though. It's me and Peanut, and that's it.
"I'll see if I can book this room for one more night. Go to Summerhill tomorrow evening and speak with Mrs. De la Vega."
"Will you take the recorder?"
I consider her question, but immediately reject it. "No. I want the tone of tomorrow evening to have a friendly vibe. Unassuming. If Hugo's mother is anything like him, she'll be hesitant." I need to be respectful of the various feelings she might have, while gaining her trust.
We talk for a few minutes, and Jolene tells me about a new client she's seeing this week. "A chic little marketing firm in Scottsdale."
"Ooh, sounds fun. You should take them out for a client lunch at Obstinate Daughter. You know I can't get enough of their food." Mediterranean is my favorite, closely followed by Mexican. I could eat souvlaki right now. Maybe a gyro. Followed by baklava.
Yeah, I'm hungry.
