“Bridget.”Anya, the café’s co-owner and Ridhi’s sister, which makes her Bridget’s stepaunt, gives her a stink eye stinkier than any skunk could.
“She’s just calling it like she sees it,” I tell Anya. “And she’s not wrong.”
I feel a little like I ate pickled skunk for breakfast.
I mentioned thebad, bad ideapart, right?
“I heard Tavi telling her grandma she’s on her way here to see you,” Bridget says. A sly grin spreads across her cheeks. “So. You and Tavi, huh? That’s so swag. I mean, she actually said she was going to meet ‘the plumber,’ and you could do better than someone who defines you like you go around showing your crack, but—”
“Bridget,”Anya says again.
I could date Anya. We’ve known each other forever. Her parents met when they were part of thePink Goldcatering crew, and they stuck around to raise their family here after because they liked the vibe. Anya’s attractive—brown skin, wide smile, killer Yahtzee skills, curves for days—and I could probably learn to love her if I tried.
Plus, she’s friends with me despite the shit I pulled on her when we were kids.
That friend part could be a complication, though.
I’m not exactly killing it in the dating world with falling for friends, but I’m older and wiser now. And as Tavi herself said the other day, I’m a nice person.
I’m not the shithead I once was, and the people in this town have forgiven me for everything from setting off firecrackers in the middle of the night on random weeknights to spreading so many rumors about Mrs.Salcedo, the high school drama teacher, that she ultimately retired early.
I push away the guilt thatstillpokes its head up when I think about all the shit I did when I was Bridget’s age, and I force a smile at Anya.
This could work.
She squints at me from behind the bakery counter. “Are you okay? Bridget’s not actually wrong. You look like crap. And I heard you slept in your garden the other night. That seems ... ominous. Not that one night of getting drunk means anything. It’s just ... not ... like you. Anymore.”
Honesty. Honesty’s a good quality in a life partner. It’s good that she’d call me on things and that we can talk about my past. “You wanna grab lunch sometime?” I blurt.
Anya’s brows twist in an Olympics-worthy performance. Bridget stares at me like I grew a shower faucet where my nose is supposed to be.
They look at each other.
Bridget makes a noise, ducks under the counter, and heads for the kitchen. “Gotta talk to Ridhi,” she squeaks.
Shit.
It’s bad when Bridget won’t say what’s on her mind. Shealwayssays what’s on her mind.
Anya blinks at me.
Then blinks at me again.
She takes a deep breath that I know isnotgood for whatever’s coming next, and she’s opening her mouth as the door bells jingle again, and this time, Tavi Lightly breezes in with her eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, her legs wrapped in purple leopard-print leggings, her shirt a black textured tank top with an extra hole to show off her cleavage. She has seven rings on her fingers, bracelets jangling together on both arms, four necklaces hung around her neck, and three earrings in each ear. Her hair’s tied up in a knot at the top of her head and held there with a wire getup studded with sparkly diamonds.
If she were an actual Tickled Pink local, I’d suspect the diamonds were fake, but not on Tavi.
On Tavi, I’d bet my favorite monkey wrench those are real diamonds.
She beams at all of us while Pebbles pokes her head out of Tavi’s purse and pants happily at us. “Happy Monday morning! Air smooches, Anya. Did I see Bridget come in here? Tell her Iadoreher nails. Tiger stripes are a great choice. Hey, Dylan. Are you, like,soexcited for today or what? I’m so excited I couldn’t sleep last night. I need, like, atripleshot of organic espresso added to my coffee today.”
“Excited about what?” Anya asks while I try to clear my head.
Tavi didn’t saylikeone time when we were talking at the lake Saturday morning.
Her personality didn’tbubble.
She wasn’t allair smoochesandI just adore your nails.
