I leaned against the bar, nonplussed that she’d wrangled her way into our group. “Thank you. I’m happy with both those scenarios.”
She winced. “We didn’t leave things all that well when I was in Houston—”
“I thought we did.”
She searched my gaze, her eyes wide and filled with…was that yearning? No, I must be mistaken.
“Your mother called me.”
I grimaced. “Let me guess, to tell you we’re still married in the eyes of the church. I heard the same crap.”
Shannon licked her lower lip. Her lipstick was a shade darker than their natural color. She’d always liked, as she put it, a “full face.” Shannon looked good, but Keelie’s smooth skin dotted with the occasional freckle popped into my mind. Keelie didn’t cover herself like she was going to war, like Shannon did.
“What if it isn’t crap?” she asked.
My phone rang, and I yanked it from my pocket. Whatever Shannon and my mother had cooked up, I wasn’t interested in pursuing, as I’d told my mom yesterday. “This is Keelie. Good to see you, Shannon.” I put the phone to my ear and pushed through the crowd, much as Maxim had a few minutes ago. “Hello?”
“Cormac? Is now a bad time?”
“No, of course not. Are you at my place?”
“Yeah.”
I smiled. “Good. I like that you’re there. Hang on—Maxim’s about to get in a Lyft.” I pulled the phone from my ear. “Are you heading back to the hotel?” I asked.
Maxim nodded. “Yeah. It’s too loud in there to talk to Ida Jane.”
“Good. Let’s go,” I said.
Maxim’s scowl grew. “Aw, man, I can’t talk to her if you’re in the car.”
“So’s the driver,” I pointed out.
He scowled. “Fine. But…don’t fuck this up for me.”
“How could I?”
I slipped into the back seat and returned the phone to my ear. “Okay, I’m back. Maxim and I are headed to the hotel.”
“Oh? Where were you?” Keelie asked.
“We went to a bar to celebrate our win.” I frowned. “Shannon came in and wanted to talk, so I’m even more glad you called.”
Keelie was quiet for a long moment. “What did she want to talk about?”
“I’m not sure. I wasn’t interested.”
The silence dragged on again. “I…don’t know how I feel about her seeking you out.”
“I do. I’m annoyed.”
Another pause. We pulled up in front of the hotel, and I exited the car with a wave to the driver.
“I’m jealous,” Keelie whispered. “And I don’t like how that feels.”
“You have no reason to be jealous.”
A couple of young men ran toward us, asking for photos and autographs. Much as I wanted to ignore them, that wasn’t Wildcatters policy. “Can I call you back when I make it to my room? It’ll be just a minute.”
