Soraya’s head popped out of the coffee bar area. “Excuse me?”
“Daisy slept with Zach!”
“Are youpsychic?” Daisy asked, her whole face going red.
“No. But remember, I saw you after you lost your virginity to ... he who shall not be named, and you had a very similar look about you. Except you also looked kind of guilty.”
Daisy frowned. “Do I not look guilty now?”
“No. You don’t.”
“I don’t understand.” Soraya looked shell-shocked. Poor blossom. “What happened after you left?”
“Zach was waiting for her.” Nora practically exploded with glee. “It was quite romantic.”
“I don’t know ifromanticis the right word,” Daisy mumbled.
“But Ineed to know,” Nora said. “Because he is a hot teen idol from my youth. Was it everything my girlish heart needs it to be?”
“It was amazing,” Daisy whispered. “But you’re going to have to keep it down, because Aggie is going to be back in a few minutes, and she has a new employee coming in today, and I’m trying to keep this ... quiet.”
“You don’t want to talk about your sex life? You’re the only one of us with a sex life.” Nora did her very best not to sound petulant.
“No, I don’t want to talk about my sex lifehere. Later, though ...”
“Excellent.” Nora rubbed her hands together.
“Aren’t you going to tell me that I did the wrong thing?” Daisy looked over at Soraya.
Soraya shook her head. “No. Not at all. I’m giving up judgment.”
“Are you really?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Well, realistically no. But I don’t feel judgmental about this.”
“You know,” Nora considered, “this would make a good article.”
“An article?”
“Yes. ‘My Husband Cheated on Me, and I Got Back at Him and Back in Touch with My Sexuality.’ It’s the kind of thing that gets a lot of clicks.” She hadn’t thought of anything to write for weeks, but she needed to get back on it.
“Oh,” Daisy said.
“If you’re interested in spilling the details, I could write it on your behalf, and we could get a little bit of money for it. Keeping your name out of it, of course. I don’t want to let all of my writing go just because I’m working here.”
“You could write about your own experience,” Daisy pointed out.
Nora waved her hand. “I don’t know. I feel like writing about myself is boring.”
“You don’t write about yourself?”
“Sometimes. But not ... in depth. I prefer to write about other people’s experiences.”
“Why?”
Nora was about to answer, though she wasn’t entirely sure what she was going to say, when the front door opened, jingling merrily, and Aggie walked in, followed by a young woman who had half of her head shaved and tattoos up both arms.
It was Alexandra’s daughter, Madison, whom she had narrowly missed seeing at the hospital because she had been on a vape break.
