It looks bloody stupid. Like a thirty-five-year-old cosplaying as Harry Styles. “I love it. Did you come back for the reunion?”
He snorts. “Nah, someone needed a top defence lawyer on a speeding fine at the Pukekohe courthouse.”
… And there it is. Three whole sentences before he managed to bring up his fancy job while not actually answering my question.
Be nice, I chide myself.He’sallowed to be proud of what he does.
“So, you are coming?” I ask.
“Yeah. Seemed like a great chance to catch up with everyone.”
I look away and blink hard, suddenly fighting back angry tears. How can I expect Will, or anyone else, to see me as more than Tristan Taylor’s Sister, if Tristan Taylor is going to be standing right next to me all weekend?
My brother drops back on his stool and hooks his foot around another one, pulling it out for me. “Come sit.”
I hop on as Dad wanders into the room. “Cece! Good to see you, peanut.”
I beam at him. “You too, Dad.”
He comes over and kisses the top of my head. Mum slides a cup of milky sweet coffee in front of me and for a single glorious moment my heart settles. “I’m so happy we’re all together.”
“Me too, peanut,” Dad says.
“Hey,” Tristan says. “How’s work going, Cee?”
My glorious moment ends.
“Good,” I lie. “Really good. The bar’s great. I’m really enjoying it. Everything’s just… really good.”
You’re saying ‘really’ too much. And good. Stop saying ‘good.’
“Still don’t miss nursing?” Mum says in the deceptively light tone she always uses when she’s trying to steer someone ‘in the right direction.’
“Nope,” I say brightly. “Things have really picked up lately, and it’s been great having Ada around. She’s really helped with the…”
I stop myself just in time. The last thing I need is Mum scrolling online photos of me with my tits half-out while I pull pints. Not to mention Ada blowing cherries in slow motion.
“… the place,” I finish.
Mum hums. “I’m not surprised. She’s always been a clever girl. Very creative.”
“Yup,” I say, as visions of Ada’s lips wrapped around cherries dance before my eyes. “Mega creative.”
“Ada’s coming to the centenary?”
The edge in Tristan’s voice makes me turn, but he’s not looking atme. He’s frowning into his coffee mug. I feel an answering frown crumple my forehead. Why does he care? As far as I know, he’s never given a damn about Ada. He thought her name was ‘Anna’ for three years.
“Yeah, she is,” I say, watching him closely. “Why?”
“No reason. Be good to see her, I guess.”
I squint at my brother, officially suspicious. Ishefollowing the Afterglow account? My stomach knots as an uglier option occurs to me. He might know about Ada from Jake’s golf chat. He told me a bunch of ex-Pukekohe rugby guys are in there, but I’d never considered that Tristan might be one of them. Then again, why would living halfway around the world stop my brother from bragging about his handicap?
Before I can ask Tristan what he knows, or even consider what it might mean, Mum interrupts. “Is Agnes still working with you, Cece?”
“Sure is. I’d be lost without her.”
At least I don’t have to lie about that…
