“What makes you think that?” Cassie asked. “How have you determined the quality of the sex Taryn was capable of?” She didn’t want to acknowledge the disquieting feeling that Rachel was probably right, which was more disgruntling because Rachel might also be right about Taryn not being around beyond the weekend. Very few Americans came to Vegas for longer than a weekend unless they were there for a conference. Cassie began to root for Taryn being a delegate at the AVN Adult Entertainment Expo currently running at Caesar’s Palace.
“Can I take a name?”
Rachel gave her name and placed their order. Cassie paid with her phone, then they moved to the end of the other line to wait.
“It’s a standard mathematical equation, actually,” Rachel said.
Cassie pulled back her wandering concentration but still checked her phone messages. There were none. Should she expect a phone message or a text? Nobody really called anymore, but she would’ve liked to have heard Taryn’s low, husky voice again. “What is?”
“You asked how I could predict the planet-exploding sex Taryn was capable of. It’s applied science.”
Cassie smiled. “Do explain.”
“Hotness ratio plus intelligence quotient multiplied by sense of humor index. The larger the number, the more impressive the sexual performance.” Rachel held her hands up as if she’d just finished explaining the concept of gravity to the world for the first time. “See?”
Cassie fiddled with the cinnamon shaker on the prep table and nodded, affecting as sage an expression as she could offer. “I can’t honestly argue with that logic. I’m assuming you have case studies to back up your hypothesis?”
Rachel winked and grinned wickedly. “Many, many case studies—of people from all gender presentations, backgrounds, and cultures.”
“Then I definitely can’t argue withthat; I’ve seen you in action enough times to know your sample size is statistically significant.”
Rachel looked pleased with herself. “You know it.”
The barista called Rachel’s name, and they collected their drinks and walked back to Cassie’s car. Cassie contemplated what it was that had caught her attention in a more engaging way than any other woman she’d spoken to, and then bedded, over the past couple of years. Most likely, it was what she would forever call the turkey conundrum. After hearing such an original riposte to a come-on, Cassie hadn’t been able to stop her own response. And it wasn’t often she got to come to the rescue of any butch, let alone one as spectacularly handsome as Taryn. She checked her phone one last time before heading back to the hospital for the rest of her shift. Still nothing, but it had been less than twenty-four hours. Someone like Taryn probably had strict guidelines about the minimum time that would have to pass before she contacted a woman. Especially one that had madeherwait first. Cassie just had to hope it wouldn’t be too long or too late for her to accept the dinner date.
The next few hours passed with the usual admissions, none of which were particularly trying. She was taking a restroom break when her phone rang, and she answered it without checking the number.
“Hi, Cassandra. It’s Mom.”
Cassie closed her eyes and clenched her jaw then looked at herself in the mirror. Rookie error. She’d been far too quick to answer the call in the hope that it would be Taryn. “I’m at work, Mom. I can’t talk. What do you need?”
“Why do you automatically assume I need something?” her mom asked. “Can’t I just call my daughter without you thinking I want something?”
Because you always need something.Cassie couldn’t recall her mother ever calling simply to check up on her, or see how her job was going, or if she’d met anyone new. The usual Mom questions never passed her lips. Or at least they hadn’t since Cassie’s brother had died. “Of course you can. But I’m on shift, Mom.” She glanced at her watch. “I finish in four hours. Can I call you back then?”
The ensuing silence was a predictable precursor for the request Cassie knew would be the real reason for her mom’s call.
“I’m going to be out later. Hopefully. I’ve got a date, you see.”
Another date. Another man her mom hoped to snare and squeeze dry. But she’dneedsomething, of course. Would absolutelyhaveto have this thing or her life wouldn’t be worth living.
“Only my date is in Tucson, and I—”
“Tucson! For a date? Mom, that’s a five-hour drive.” Cassie pinched the bridge of her nose. She didn’t have time for a stress headache. Hadn’t she learned enough techniques that she shouldn’t be so easily triggered?
“I know how long it will take, Cassandra. I’m old, not stupid.”
And there was the “poor me” portion of their conversation. Her mom had a three-point plan every time she called, it seemed. Next up would be the guilt trip. “I know you’re not stupid, Mom.”
“I just realized that I don’t have enough money for gas. My social security doesn’t come in for a week, and I had to take the dog for vaccinations this week. Not all of us have six-figure salaries, Cassandra.”
A salary for a job she’d worked damned hard to achieve, with no support from her family—what was left of it. “Will a hundred cover you?”
“Gas prices have rocketed, Cassandra.”
So she wanted money for more than just gas. “How much do you need, Mom?”
“Three hundred would work for me. I’ll pay you back when my check comes through.”
