Unconvinced, I do what she says and slide the hair tie out. I tuck it in my pocket rather than putting it on my wrist like usual. I take a sip of the drink and try not to fidget with the silverware. Why do people insist on taking me places I clearly don’t belong? I should have gone home and changed after our shift at the diner.
Handing me the laminated menu insert, she says, “Get either the chicken and waffles or the short rib hash.”
I don’t even get a chance to think about reading the menu before Estelle is out of her chair hugging and kissing a gorgeous woman.
“Stella! Thank god, you were joking about inviting our uncle. He is not a brunch dude!”
They settle across from me as they gush. Is that a beta thing or just a friend thing? Or a cousin thing?
“Babe, this is Ash. Omega, obviously. Just started at the diner. Ash, this is Tia. Practically my sister. Our fathers are in ‘business’ together.” Estelle does that air-quote thing and I’m not sure what that means. “She’s Nashville’s most fierce real estate agent.”
“Stella, don’t brag,” Tia says, pulling a glossy pink card from her designer bag and snapping it down next to my plate. “You never know when you need to find an apartment.”
“I thought real estate agents just sold houses,” I say, and then cringe. That’s a dumb thing to say.
“Oh, I do. But I have this sixth sense for finding just the right apartments for just the right clients.” She touches my wrist across the table and leans in. “Besides, you cannot imagine the gossip you pick up showing apartments.”
The waitress comes and Tia chats with her like they are practically sisters too. Maybe she has cousins everywhere. The waitress makes me go first, and I order the chicken and waffles out of sheer panic. Estelle hadn’t given me much of a choice after our shift ended; she dragged me here to meet Tia, and I really only said yes because she said it would be her treat.
“Tell her about that place you found downtown,” Estelle says, elbowing Tia.
“Oh my god, gorgeous little one-bedroom. The kitchen was tiny, but it had this alcove room, not quite a den, that was just perfect for her nest.”
“You rent apartments to omegas?” I ask. “Her pack and her father let her?”
Tia pauses and flashes a look at Estelle. “She’s not interested in a pack right now. Anyway, I sat down with the landlord, had them upgrade the HVAC in the building to the new scent-dampening codes and got $500 taken off her rent. Let me show you pictures of her nest. It is gorg.”
How she was able to use a phone with nails that long was beyond me, but she brought up all these pictures, flipping through them and pointing out different features. The seafoam green paint, the window seat, the canopy, the pile of pillows in every shade of green known to mankind. Sweat breaks out on my forehead at the thought that she might ask to see pictures of my nest.
“Here. Let me send you the pics in case you want some inspo.”
“There are so many untapped resources for omegas, especially single omegas,” Estelle says before rearranging the table to make it easier for our waitress to deliver our entrees.
My plate is enormous. Estelle and Tia chatter about family gossip, while I tackle the waffles. Maybe it’s a southern thing to make all savory stuff sweet.
“We’re line dancing Saturday. I know, I know.” Tia throws up her hands defensively. “It’s country music, but it’s a blast. You should come.” She points a French fry at me.
I cover my mouth and try to swallow down the sticky waffles dripping in honey butter.
“I don’t know if I’m allowed.” My face flames at Estelle’s raised eyebrows.
“Allowed?” Tia asks with more than curiosity in her voice.
“Oh, you know, my father. He worries.”
“Hm.” Tia pushes a cherry tomato around her plate. “Some families are still like that, I guess.”
Still like what?
The conversation moves on to a reality TV dating show. Estelle made me watch a few episodes at the diner so I can at least follow and agree that Brock and Colin are absolute shitheads and deserve to lose.
The check comes, and Tia doesn’t even look at it as she hands over her credit card. When we get up from the table, she kisses me on both cheeks like we’ve been friends for a million years too. Maybe not quite cousins, yet.
“This isn’t just for apartment hunting. I know people.” Tia leans over and picks up her card and tucks it into my bag. “And you’re coming line dancing. I’ll write you a permission slip.” She winks.
They offer to drive me home, but it’s bright and sunny and maybe only a little cold. The walk will be nice.
I’m swinging my bag as I round the corner to my house. That had been… fun. Well, it would have been fun, if I wasn’t so in my head about looking dumb. I don’t know why I can’t relax like when I’m at Beckett’s.
