“I’m not sad,” I lie, swiping a stray tear. “This is hay fever. Seriously, where were you? I was worried. I couldn’t get to sleep until I heard you come in.”
She sighs. “I hooked up with Jake.”
My mouth falls open. I assumed she was starting fires or digging shallow graves or making voodoo dolls—anything but screwing one of the stag-party stags. “You mean… Jake Graves-Holland?”
She rolls her eyes. “God, what iswithhis name? Like, just fuckin’ pick one, hey?”
“You fucked Jake Graves-Holland?”
“Yuh-huh.”
“How… How was it?”
She shrugs. “I’ve had better.”
“Oh, poor Jake. Was he nice to you?”
“Yeah, I guess. Look, he was fine. And he’s still alive. And so are the rest of the lad-pack, so there’s no need to worry.” Ada puts the plate aside and crawls towards me, studying me closely. “You really want to go to this reunion, don’t you? Even though none of those people deserve to clap eyes on the most beautiful bar owner in all of Aotearoa?”
We stare deep into each other’s eyes, like we’ve done a thousand times before. “I… Yes."
“I see.” Ada sighs again. “Well, since you’ve helped me out for months and you’re my oldest and, let’s face it,onlyfriend, the least I can do is accommodate your baffling sexual impulses.”
My heart swells like a hot air balloon. “Ada! You don’t mean?—”
“I do.” An answering smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. “You know I can’t say no to your sad kitten face.”
I squeal, wrapping my arms around her.
“I have two conditions,” Ada says loudly into my hair.
I release her. “Name them! Anything you want!”
“One,” she holds up a finger. “Iwillbe using this reunion as an opportunity to wreak havoc on those who wronged me.”
I hesitate. I don’t want another repeat of last night’s stag party. Still, Ada’s going to do what Ada’s going to do, and at least this way she’s going to do it at the reunion with me. “Okay.”
“Your lack of enthusiasm has been noted and will be monitored. Two,” she holds up another finger. “You have to let me buy you some clothes.”
“No!”
“Fuck off, ‘no.’ YousaidI could name my conditions, and those jeans look like you found them in a charity bin. For wine mums.”
The excitement that flooded through me a moment ago evaporates. I look down at my high-waisted jeans. I did get them as a ‘thanks for shopping here so much’ freebie from the Salvation Army store, so I don’t have much to argue with. I haven’t bought new clothes since I took over Afterglow. And even when I was nursing, I wasn’t exactly spending big. I think I have one nice dress that still fits and doesn’t have armpit stains. Not exactly the best starting point for glamorous, competent, and sexy.
This is how she sees you, a charity case that needs handouts, a nagging voice whispers. “Ada, I don’t?—”
“If you want me to come, then those are my terms, Cecelia. Take them or leave them.”
Will Sharpe. Officially separated.AndAda agreed to come with me to the reunion...
I inhale. “One outfit.”
“Five.”
“Three.”
“Deal. And new shoes,” Ada says, studying her lilac nails. “And you’re getting your hair done. And a manicure. And a pedicure. And a bag that hasn’t spent the majority of its life carrying garlic home from Woolworths.”
