“The sight of her makes me want to tear out my eyes and shove them in my ears so I never have to hear her say another word,” Cash mutters.
Luc glowers at him. “It’s fine if you wanna bust my apple bag, but you donotget to hate on her.”
“Please.” Cash snorts. “She married for money and is more plastic than flesh. I’d say that makes her fair game for hate. Plus, she thinks it’s cute to play the idiot. Although, I’m not sure she’s playing. I get the impression if she had one smart thought in her head, it’d perish pretty damn quickly. You know, from sheer loneliness.”
Luc wipes his hands and throws down his napkin. “What the hell d’ya get outta living up there in your intellectual tower and sneering down on the rest of us, huh?”
Cash snorts. “I’m just saying I’ve known women like Sally Renee before.”
“Horseshit,” Luc snaps. “I’ve eaten gumbo that knows more about women like Sally Renee than you do. For your information, she was raised by a drunk father who ran her down every chance he got. All that plastic surgery was her way of trying to build just a smidge of self-esteem. Then Silas Rutherford came along. The old codger was probably aiming to make his golf buddies jealous by having a sweet, young thing on his arm, but Sally doesn’t know that. She thinks Rutherfordlovedher. He spoiled her and coddled her and made her feel worthy. For the first time in her life, she was shown some human kindness, and she idolizes the bastard even in death. She’s heartbroken over him.”
“Yeah,” Cash scoffs. “Shtupping a total stranger she bought at an auction seemssuperheartbroken.”
“Cash—” I try to defuse the situation, but Luc interrupts me.
“People deal with grief and pain in different ways. I mean, look at you.”
Ruh-roh.
“What about me?” Cash demands.
“Your grief and pain have turned you into a drunk asshole.”
“Check!” I holler at the bartender. “Gentlemen”—I lay a hand on each of their arms—“the bell has rung. Please retreat to your corners.”
They vibrate like live wires, and they both reach for the bill when it arrives. But I slap their hands. “My treat.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re piled into Smurf and headed north on Highway 10 toward Jazzland. For perhaps the first time ever, no music issues from the truck’s speakers, and the tension inside the cab presses against all of us, taking up too much space. I hold my breath and wait for Cash to say something to cut it. But as the miles fly by, it becomes obvious he needs some coaxing.
I elbow him in the ribs.
“Ow!” He glares at me. “What was that for?”
I jerk my head toward Luc, who’s watching the road like he expects a schism to open up in the asphalt at any moment.
“What?” Cash demands.
“I think you owe him an apology,” I mutter out of the side of my mouth.
“He called me a drunk asshole!”
“Youarea drunk asshole,” I say, and he blinks, taken aback. I hastily add, “But you’reourdrunk asshole.”
A muscle works in his jaw. Finally, he curses under his breath. “Sorry, Luc. I shouldn’t have said those things about Sally Renee. She seems like a decent enough person.”
Luc is quiet for too long. Now it’s his turn for an elbow in the ribs.
“Ow!” he complains. “Those things are as sharp as knives.”
I give him the stink eye in the rearview mirror.
He sighs. “I accept your apology, Cash. And you’re right. Sallyisa decent person.”
I can see Cash is chewing on something. I get my elbow ready in case what he says next needs to be cut off midsentence.
“It’s just… I want nothing but the best for you, man. And I think you could do a whole hell of a lot better than Sally Renee.”
I put my elbow away. Even though I’m beginning to like Sally Renee, I have to agree with Cash’s assessment.
