Vero pinched my elbow hard. “Can I have a word with you in the kitchen?” She held up a finger to my sister as she forced me into the next room.
“What are you doing?” I asked, shaking off her grip.
“Georgia needs to go.”
“Why?”
Vero whispered through clenched teeth. “Because Carl Westover’s torso is still in my trunk.”
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “Oh, god.”
I turned back for the foyer and cleared my throat. “Thanks so much for all your help, Georgia, but there’s no need to stay.”
“Are you sure?” Georgia’s forehead wrinkled as Vero swung the door wide for her.
“Totally sure. Yep. We’re good here.”
“Okay. But you’d better grab that shower soon. Isn’t Nick picking you up at six?”
“What?” I felt the blood drain from my face.
“You know, for your date?”
Vero and I both turned toward the clock.Oh, no.I’d forgotten all about Nick. “It’s not a date,” I said between increasingly tight breaths.
“It’s totally a date.” Vero pushed my sister out the door. “You’d better be going so she can get ready.”
“I knew it!” my sister said as Vero shut it in her face.
“What do we do?” I asked, clutching my chest. Was I havinga heart attack? This must be a heart attack. I had less than thirty minutes to figure out what to do with Carl.
“You take a shower and get ready for Nick. I’ll drive back to Theresa’s and be back before you leave. Go,” she said, shoving me toward the stairs. “I’ll handle Carl.” Vero grabbed her keys and rushed out the kitchen door.
The kids were peacefully engrossed with their toys, but if I didn’t get dinner on the table soon, there was sure to be a mutiny. I preheated the oven, grabbed bags of chicken nuggets and tater tots from the freezer, and washed my hands no less than five times before pouring the frozen lumps into a metal baking tray. The sound of them hitting the pan made my stomach turn. I slid the pan into the oven, set the timer, and raced upstairs to the shower.
After scrubbing every inch of skin with scalding hot water, I came out of the bathroom to find one of Vero’s dresses hanging on my closet door. A pair of matching heels had been tossed to the floor under it.
I toweled off quickly and wiggled into the dress. It was far sexier than anything I owned—a deep sapphire blue with a plunging neckline and a clingy wrap waist, the soft material just forgiving enough to fit me—but as I frowned at the contents of my own closet, it was painfully clear I had no other options.
I adjusted it around my curves, ran some curling mousse through my hair, and spritzed on some floral body spray, hoping I didn’t smell like a corpse in a funeral home. After a few swipes of mascara and lip gloss, I slipped on Vero’s heels and searched for my phone.
Shit.Where was my phone?
I must have left it in my purse. Which was still in Vero’s car.
I slung a handbag over my arm as I scurried down the stairs.
My knees locked on the last step as I caught a whiff of Nick’scologne. It mingled with the aroma of tater tot grease. Delia’s high voice came from the kitchen, relaying the story of how she lost her teeth, followed by Nick’s deep, rumbling laugh.
I pressed my back against the wall. I could do this. I just needed to keep it together through dinner. I took a deep breath and smoothed the front of my dress, heels clicking with more confidence than I felt as I walked into the kitchen. Everyone turned to look at me. Everyone except Vero.
She stood in front of the oven, her shoulders stiff as she scooped tots onto melamine plates.
“Wow.” Nick leaned back in his chair, taking me in.
My laugh was high and a little panicked. “You told me to surprise you.”
Vero set the children’s plates down on the table. Her dark eyes pierced me over Nick’s head. “Did you get my message? I’ve been texting you.”
