“No.” Raven’s answer is clipped.
“Raven! It’s me! Madison Dempsey!”
“She seems to know you,” Griffin replies.
We arrive at the truck, and Griffin and I load the bags in the back seat. Raven stands by the tailgate with her arms crossed, bracing for the woman, Madison, to reach her.
Madison grabs Raven’s arm. “Raven! Girl! I haven’t seen you since?—”
Stepping away from Madison’s touch, Raven cuts her off, “Do I know you?”
Madison laughs. “You’re hilarious. Such a jokester.”
Raven’s shoulders tense. “I think you should leave.”
Griffin and I step up behind Raven, staring down at the woman disturbing her. I don’t care if Raven really does know Madison. She’s made Raven upset. No one gets Raven upset.
“Is this a bit? Very funny, Raven.” Madison’s smile is a little too wide, a little to fake.
My tone is grave. “She asked you to leave, so leave.”
“Who are these people, Raven? Your bodyguards?” Madison looks at Griffin and me like we’re an inconvenience.
“Leave,” Griffin growls.
Madison blinks affronted and leaves with a parting shot. “You need to hire better help.” She huffs as she stomps away.
Griffin places his hand on Raven’s shoulder. “Who was that?”
“Someone from a past life.”
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
RAVEN
“Are you sure about this?” Dahlia’s voice comes through my phone.
“I’m trying to do something nice,” I hiss at her as I reach for a package of flour tortillas and drop them into my cart. “Besides, who doesn’t love burritos?”
Dahlia snickers. “Oh, everyone loves burritos. But your burritos? That’s a different story.”
“Ha. Ha.” I fake laugh bitterly.
I know I’m not the best cook, but I’m getting better. I successfully made edible grilled cheese the other day. And tonight, I want to do something nice for Griffin and Knox. They decided to officially close The Wandering Raven on Mondays, so tonight we’re all getting together for dinner.
“I take that back. Double Trouble would do anything to eat your burrito.” Dahlia laughs at her own joke.
“Oh my God!” I jump at the volume of my shriek, scanning the dairy aisle to make sure I didn’t scare anyone else as well.
Dahlia keeps laughing on the other end of the line.
Shaking my head, I search for the right cheese. “I thought the euphemism for a woman’s vagina was a taco.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a burrito,” Dahlia argues.
“If anything, a burrito would be a dick,” I contend as I place the cheese in my cart and head for the next ingredient.
Dahlia won’t let it go. “No way. The eggplant is a dick.”
